Don Marquis pairs two radically different novellas in this 1921 collection, and the effect is quietly devastating. 'The Old Soak' follows Archibald Mulliner, a man who has made peace with his drinking and his flaws, stumbling through Prohibition-era America with a philosopher's eye and a poet's ear for nonsense. He's funny, he's flawed, he's surprisingly wise in his cups. Then comes 'Hail and Farewell,' a complete tonal pivot: John Barton is dying of tuberculosis, and he writes letters to everyone he ever loved, trying to explain himself before it's too late. The humor doesn't vanish entirely, but it tightens, becomes something sadder and more true. What unites both stories is Marquis's insistence that people are worth watching, worth listening to, even at their most broken. The Old Soak isn't just a barfly he's a last voice for a certain kind of American warmth, the camaraderie of the saloon, the warmth that went cold when the law made drinking a crime. This is a book about what we lose when we lose our pleasures, and what we lose when we lose our time. It will make you laugh, then ache.
