In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

SUMMONING THE LOST I don’t like writing about the dead, conjuring them in language that some of them never would have used— pushing them onstage, saying, “Go. It doesn’t have to be the truth.” Something’s varnished about it, all klieg lights and rouge, all glistery shadows. Yet what else is there to do? Shouldn’t you, Reader, be led to see these glossy, passionate, stumping souls who once plowed a field in the teeth of a tornado, waltzed with a wooden leg, sashayed an armadillo on a leash? Perhaps not. Perhaps you’ve already left the page, dealing with your own ghosts, throwing them over your shoulder like salt: a grandmother, a child, a brother missing in action who smoked every day a pack of Camels and had a way with mules. ...

Share