The Woodchipper

Nothing comes easy for the denizens of Hamilton, Ontario, in these wry, bruising, and mordantly funny stories from Ollmann (Fictional Father). In “Nestled All Snug,” a toppled pile of boxes traps a bookstore employee in a dingy staff bathroom. In “Meat,” a security guard at a meat-packing facility falls in with a band of animal rights activists. Elsewhere, a hapless landlord’s short-term rental catches the attention of a murder podcast in “The Late Checkout,” and a husband gets caught in an anxious interior monologue while washing dishes as his partner’s faculty party drags on past midnight in “The Thought That Counts.” The title story finds a city maintenance worker paralyzed by PTSD after a close brush with a woodchipper. In these close-call episodes, catastrophe is averted but exposes the precariousness of everyday life. Captured in blunt, agitated lines that nod to Lynda Barry, Ollmann’s mostly blue-collar figures wear their strain openly—all sweaty brows, exhausted eyes, and frayed nerves. Ollmann doesn’t trade in schadenfreude, however. His characters narrate their ordeals with self-deprecating frankness, steering out of occasional skids into misanthropy to marvel at the absurdity of predicaments that should, by rights, flatten them. These unsentimental stories withhold tidy resolution, leaving their protagonists upright if not unscathed as the world carries on unfazed. Fans of Peter Bagge or Ed Brubaker’s A Complete Lowlife will get it—as will anyone who’s ever felt the floor drop out from under them. (Feb.)