Decadence

Journalist and poet Kemick (Hello, Horse) knits together his wide-ranging preoccupations—Christmas villages, dogs, marine life—for a funny and poignant memoir-in-essays on grief and longing. In “Playing God,” Kemick reflects on his obsession with the Christmas village he’s been assembling since he was a teenager. He compares hiding his compulsion to research new additions to his dog’s skulking behind the bathtub when she needs to vomit, explaining “it’s natural to want to be alone when you’re doing what instinct demands.” In “Sweeping It Under the Carpet,” Kemick describes being unable to vacuum a patch of green shag carpet “phlegmatically faded” by the blond hair of his family’s dog, Buddy, after they put him down. Elsewhere, a visit to the Vancouver Aquarium, home to the first Canadian beluga born in captivity, prompts Kemick to weigh his fascination with the awe-inspiring creatures against his belief that captive breeding is not only bad but “we are made worse by it,” as it excuses “our slithering pollution” of the planet. Kemick’s wit and curmudgeonly self-regard is offset by his palpable adoration of his partner, Litia, evoking the work of David Sedaris. It’s a weird and rewarding ride. (July)