Literary book publishing is a rarefied club to be sure. It is not every day that you come across a writer that takes such incredible risks in a debut. I bet Merritt Tierce has had a long, long time to write this story, and it is not a tale that is too far from what she knows. Merritt Tierce is a member of the 5 under 35 group of writers selected by the National Book Foundation, and that attention is deserved. Like Catherine Lacey, another writer on the rise, I am sure we will hear more from Merritt Tierce in the years to come, and while we wait for more, we have this blistering novel to enjoy. I am saying her name as many times as I can because this is a writer you should know.
Love Me Back is the kind of story you only tell yourself. You rationalize out loud in the night while tossing and turning, staring at the reflections of light from passing cars on the ceiling. This is the inside voice gone wild.
Marie is a besmirched waitress; days smearing into each other like a path of dog vomit. Marie is a mother, and not proud of her abilities on that score, but unless you kill the kid, you have an endless spectrum of chances to get it right, or at least do it again. Marie is a waitress; because that is the only thing she really knows how to do. But she doesn’t, it is the only thing she can do, because she does not know how to do anything else.
This story takes place mostly at night, double shifts are the norm, and Marie likes to play hard, even with the kid in the next room. Some nights the crumb-snatcher is off with Marie’s ex, and that’s fine, because if anyone caught wind of Marie’s less than ladylike behaviors, well, lets just leave it at that.
You like Marie instantly, and when she almost gets fired for giving a meal to a co-worker for free, her world is brought into focus by your empathy, which feels like sand on the bed sheets. Then Marie goes home with the girl, clothes come off, and emotionally bankrupt sex follows. At this point in the book, loose sexual acts are the norm. Marie sleeps with men because it is the one thing that she knows will give her feeling. I suspect Marie is numbed by these moments, and that too is a feeling.
The book moves at a wicked pace, leaving you breathless by the act of reading. There is a hustler named Cal that appears, and he is a lot like Monty in the brilliant London mob satire, Layer Cake. He helps Marie navigate the ropes, and teaches her how be upscale when wearing the apron. I liked Cal, and missed him when his time in this story came to an end.
There is Danny, the owner, chef, drug addict, master of the universe, the man who guides Marie in the second half of the book. Not so much a spirit guide, but an owner who never sleeps, and runs the restaurant like a five-star Michelin guide nominee. I was super impressed with Danny, he was no more rich and textured than anyone else in the book, but I wished he had more time in these pages.
If that’s a complaint, I don’t mean it to be. Merritt Tierce pours these people out on the table in front of you. The dialogue is sweet, crisp, terse and without punctuation. Which means you need to pay attention. When you come to the end of this story, and The Private Room chapter meets you head on, I beg you, please read it twice. It is a slam the door ending to a great story about a woman struggling to come in off the ledge.
