Cleanness

By: Garth Greenwell

Narrated by: Garth Greenwell

"Garth Greenwell’s superb narration makes a powerful case for authors reading their own work. This bleak, honest novel is about the impossibility of knowing all the complicated truths of a person. Though the novel includes dialogue, Greenwell doesn’t alter his voice as he shifts between characters, a choice that adds to the intensity and power of the first-person point of view." -- BookTrib

This program is read by the author.

In the highly anticipated follow-up to his beloved debut, What Belongs to You, Garth Greenwell deepens his exploration of foreignness, obligation, and desire. A New York Times Notable Books of 2020

Sofia, Bulgaria, a landlocked city in southern Europe, stirs with hope and impending upheaval. Soviet buildings crumble, wind scatters sand from the far south, and political protesters flood the streets with song.

In this atmosphere of disquiet, an American teacher navigates a life transformed by the discovery and loss of love. As he prepares to leave the place he’s come to call home, he grapples with the intimate encounters that have marked his years abroad, each bearing uncanny reminders of his past. A queer student’s confession recalls his own first love, a stranger’s seduction devolves into paternal sadism, and a romance with another foreigner opens, and heals, old wounds. Each echo reveals startling insights about what it means to seek connection: with those we love, with the places we inhabit, and with our own fugitive selves.

Cleanness revisits and expands the world of Garth Greenwell’s beloved debut, What Belongs to You, declared “an instant classic” by The New York Times Book Review. In exacting, elegant prose, he transcribes the strange dialects of desire, cementing his stature as one of our most vital living writers.

Beautiful writing

Ambiguities of experience are explored in a language that captures the struggle felt to understand oneself better if only to grasp onto something tangible. Beautiful writing, paced, deliberate in its choice of words.

Loved his debut novel, this feels like notes for a money grab

If you were entranced by Garth Greenwell’s riveting debut novel, ‘What Belongs To You’, I recommend rereading it rather than reaching for Cleanness.
I’m a fan. I wanted to love it. The blurbs and accolades seem to be based on the first two chapters, which is typically all they read. But this effort is clearly notes and diaries that didn’t make the first cut or worse: an FSG money grab for the obsessive fans to purchase the follow up to his stunning debut.

I don’t know why they do this to such promising writers, but the market seems to demand another masterpiece ASAP.
The first novel feels like prose poems that took a decade to assemble. Cleanness is morose and rambling.

There are moments here that feel like a soap opera dashed off during vacation or worse: awkward marriage porn after stories of an adolescent erosion of trust and molestation.

Well written, but...

This book was tough to get through. It is a very detailed view of the inner life of a high school English teacher teaching in Bulgaria. The author uses his encounters with various men (who are invariably unavailable to him in one way or another) as an avenue towards self knowledge. There are extremely lengthy and extremely graphic descriptions of sexual encounters with his various partners. In the beginning the narrator is something of a doormat, but towards the end he is the cruel dominatrix only to sob after the encounter in which he beats his partner with a belt. I found the narrator to be so self absorbed - dwelling on every tiny feeling he is experiencing - that it began to annoy me. And then it just became boring. Fine reading of this book even though I have probably missed the point of it.

Great narrator.

Last few sentences were quite good. Enjoyed some of the characters very much while some characters felt stereotypical. Narrator was very good.

I miss the days when gay meant happy...

...but we’ve achieved peak misery with everyone else. And Greenwell is lyrical in his invocation of yearning unhappiness. This book reminded me Dale Peck’s Martin and John.