In Floating Staircase, Islands In the Stream by Hemingway, who is saluted overtly, Bradbury’s Dandelion Wine, and Thomas Harris’s Silence of the Lambs, echo like footsteps in an empty house. Flannery O’Connor’s shade flits by. There is a whiff of Stephen King’s The Body. Malfi overtly mentions Elmore Leonard, whose work is present by what is absent. There are touches of Dean Koontz in his use of coincidence and to an extent in his touch with motif and tone, with hints of John D. MacDonald in his scenes and settings. We must not forget M. R. James, Henry James, or Shirley Jackson, among so many others.
Having cited all those influences, which amount more to a pedigree, it is Ronald Malfi’s voice that compels. He is a writer all his own and a damned good one.
He writes blunt prose grained with metaphor and simile. Sometimes these grains knot. Mostly they bring out layers. His adherence to realism enlivens the story and makes it vivid and true.
Pacing is impeccable yet deliberate. He is unhurried to deliver his goods, knowing they are the real thing and won’t spoil. Talking about this book, as you will once you read it, does nothing to diminish the impact of experiencing it. It is personal and it is unsparing. It shares this with life.
Dialogue sometimes strays into narrative, hinting at scenes fleshed out by an insufficient rewrite, perhaps to editor’s suggestion. Embedded short stories can be found by astute readers. These are minor cavils that neither impede the reading nor impugn the writing. Malfi is a storyteller and craftsman who will smooth out these minor imperfections as he matures into the world-class writer visible throughout this book.
After the story steps momentarily into small town melodrama the story itself comments on the nature of storytelling. That it does this without lecture makes it the more remarkable. He comes within a gnat’s silk stocking of the dreaded “It was all a dream,” cop-out. I’m well aware of this. His avoidance of it without resorting to discursive digression or discussion is what elevates it to bravura. This is one of those rare books strongest at the end, another sign of a major ability matched to careful craftsmanship.
He writes about people. Real people you know and are. That is his strength, as with all good fiction. Call it horror or a ghost story but market labels matter only to marketers. Readers wanting a good story told well about people they can relate to will be delighted by Floating Staircase. Ronald Malfi is a writer to put on your Buy On Sight list.
All good books are honest books. This one’s better.
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