In the City of Shy Hunters

This has got to be one of the most beautiful book titles I've ever come across. It's by Tom Spanbauer. I've already read two of his others - Now is the Hour and The Man Who Fell in Love With the Moon. Both are gorgeous and magical stories about the soul waking its ass up.

My little sister suggested this new one to me, but warned me that maybe I shouldn't read it. I thought at first she meant because it's about NYC in the '80s and AIDS. (Although like any Spanbauer book, that barely scratches the surface - it's like saying All About Eve is about the world of theater, which may be the gayest analogy I've ever made.). She later told me it was because there's some incest stuff in there, but I'm pretty sure I can deal.

I'm only about one-third of the way in but I already need to share a couple of passages. (I'm editing them down for clarity's sake since they're out of context.)

The first:
The Jews have their mezuzahs, the Catholics their crucifixes, Native Americans their eagle feathers. It's a totem, something outside you to remind you that you have what it takes. Law of the jungle. You have to have an object so you can treat your struggle as if it were outside.

The second:
Most people construe shyness for standoffishness. But it is not. It is social terror. The Shy Hunter is terrified that others will destroy the truth within his heart. And so the Shy Hunter armors himself. No one surprises a Shy Hunter. Not even death, because the Shy Hunter has covered his ass, and thus armored, he watches and waits and studies meticulously hunting the world for prey. Prey not in the sense of of devouring or murder, but prey in the sense of hunting for the sore truths within another human heart. Prey for truth. The sore truth which is in your heart, so that I may uncover mine.

My totem used to be Clover. Now it's a heavy, silver wolf head I wear around my neck. And as for the Shy Hunter, I've never heard my methods described so succinctly. It's painful to examine. The third quote from this book is maybe the one that hits the hardest, and it's one Spanbauer keeps repeating throughout - Language is my second language.

This is how I've led my entire life. I have no idea how to communicate with the world except on an instinctual level. Every major decision I've ever made, be it for work or a relationship, is based purely on emotion, not rational thought or actual communication. It's pretty much a joke that I make my living by writing. Aside from the magazine stuff, it's my one attempt at trying to express how I really feel, and it always seems like an absolute failure. So thank god for people like Spanbauer who can reach inside me, mold my guts into words, and then offer them up to me as a gift. I think I'm going to have a tiny plaque made that says Language is my second language and wear it on a chain. It will be my new totem.