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697-Page Book Publishes a Poet's 2,000 Amazon Reviews Posthumously

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3 months ago
The Cleveland Review of Books ponders a new 697-page hardcover collection of American poet/author Kevin Killian's.... reviews from Amazon. (Over 2,000 of 'em — written over the course of 16 years.) In 2012, he wrote three substantial paragraphs about the culinary perfection that can be found in a German Potato Salad Can (15 oz., Pack of 12). Often, he'd open with something like "as an American boy growing up in rural France." Killian grew up on Long Island, New York. He didn't take himself (or much else) too seriously.... [Killian] was also a member of the New Narrative Movement... Writers acknowledge the subjectivity of, and the author's active presence in, the text... Amazon reviews are a near-perfect vehicle for New Narrative's tenets... Killian camouflaged his reviews in the cadence of the Amazon everyman. He embraced all the stylistic quirks, choppy sentence fragments and run-ons, either darting from point to point like a distracted squirrel or leaning heavily into declarative statements.... About the biographer of Elia Kazan, he tells us, "Schickel is in love with the sound of his voice, and somewhere in the shredded coleslaw of his prose, a decent book lies unavailable to us, about the real Elia Kazan...." [T]he writing can move from very funny to strangely poignant. One of my favorites, his review of MacKenzie Smelling Salts, begins with a tragically tongue-in-cheek anecdote about his Irish grandfather: "My Irish grandfather used to keep a bottle of MacKenzie's smelling salts next to his desk. He was the principal at Bushwick High School (in Brooklyn, NY) in the 1930s and 1940s, before it became a dangerous place to live in, and way before Bushwick regained its current state of desirable area for new gentrification. And he kept one at home as well, in case of a sudden shock. At school, he would press the saturated cotton under the nostrils of poor girls who realized they were pregnant in health class, before he expelled them." He ends with his own reasons for using smelling salts, citing wildly diverging examples: his grief upon learning of the death of Paul Walker from the Fast & Furious film franchise abuts Killian's disappointment at not being selected for the 2014 Whitney Biennial. Apparently, both were deeply traumatic experiences for Kevin... ["it took my wife a minute or two to locate the MacKenzie's, but passing it under my nose, as though she were my grandfather ministering to the pregnant girls of yore..."] No one wants to be forgotten. I do not think it's a coincidence Killian started writing the reviews after his heart attack. Why did he keep going? Most likely, it was because he enjoyed the writing and got something out of it — pleasure, practice, and a bit of notoriety. But mainly, I think the project grew out of habit and compulsion. In a similar way, the graffiti art of Keith Haring, Jean-Paul Basquiat, and Banksy began in subway tunnels, one tag and mural at a time, until it grew into bodies of work collected and coveted by museums worldwide. In Killian's case, the global commerce platform was his ugly brick wall, his subway platform, and his train car. Coming away, I like to imagine him gleefully typing, manipulating the Amazon review forums into something that had little to do with the consumerism they had been created to support: Killian tagging a digital wall to remind everyone KEVIN WAS HERE. The book reviewer points out that the collection's final review, for the memoir Never Mind the Moon: My Time at the Royal Opera House, is dated a month before Killian died. "Unfortunately, the editors of this volume did not preserve the Helpful/Not Helpful ratings, only the stars." Putting it all in perspective, the book critic notes that "In 2023, Amazon reported that one hundred million customers submitted one or more product reviews to the site. The content of most is dross, median." Though the critic then also acknowledges that "I haven't read any of Killian's other work."

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