Summer/Autumn
2005
Billie’s Ghost
Chad Hautmann
Penguin/Plume
New York
164 pp. $12.00
Chad
Hautmann’s premiere novel, Billie’s Ghost, serves up an
interesting premise. A young widower, suffering from depression,
drunkenness, and loneliness, finds his home invaded by a woman who may
or may not be the ghost of Billie Holiday. She comes and goes without
warning, he begins to doubt his sanity ... you know—the usual dead
jazz singer’s ghost love story bit.
Hautmann
makes a proficient delivery of said premise. The narrator seems fairly
substantial, and the few other characters seem consistent and
believable—though the suspect decision to name the widower’s cat “Mashed Potatoes” caused me to make a mad lunge for my
insulin. The “ghost” channels a bit of Sam Spade in her lingo, but
that’s to be expected more or less from someone/something affecting or
issuing from the pertinent historical period. Some of the pop culture
references come across as a bit ’70s (Papillon, for god’s
sake?), and the occasional paragraph shows the I-I-I symptom of
First Novel-itis, but these are few and far between. Hautmann also
makes a slight misstep at times when he seems to purposely keep his
narrator ignorant of certain no-brainer issues in an attempt to keep
the mysterious premise aloft.
For
the most part, the author’s spare prose comes across as competent
though perhaps not as turgid or lush as we would have preferred given
the jazz environs and ambiance. Summoning jazz or blues figures into
literature is a dicey proposition given the canonical status of jazz
writers like Kerouac and the Beat fellowship. We get Billie Holiday,
yes, yet we get little of her rhythms, her darkness, or her stark
moving sadness in the prose style. It is, of course, not incumbent
upon Mr. Hautmann to satisfy that particular historical thirst in the
more jazz-savvy of his readers, yet it is precisely that stylistic
choice that could have made this a vibrant and special work, instead
of a competently executed novel. Competence is a prerequisite for but
not analogous with greatness. Art needs heart, and this one pumps a
bit obviously. And don’t be fooled: despite the trappings of
depression, blues, and death, Billie’s Ghost comes across as a
fairly light read. We can give it a mild recommendation, but it’s only
a slight lean over the fence. Still, as this is only a first novel and
shows a reasonable degree of accomplishment, we can almost certainly
expect better, stronger, faster fare from a future Mr. Hautmann.
