—Hush

hush

Written as part of my master’s thesis (and originally called De’ath Sound), Hush was published by Insomniac Press in the spring of 1999.

This short poetic novel is shaped by the fluidity of time. Not driven by a linear plot, the story unfolds in verticils, suggesting caprices of memory. It is writing that exists at the intersection of the body, language and self.

In 2005, Julie Boulanger (Université de Montréal), wrote her master’s thesis on Hush and Djuna Barnes’ Nightwood. She kept a journal of her experience in a blog called the never ending thesis. The thesis, “What Language is This? A Study of Abjection in Djuna Barnes’ Nightwood and Anne Stone’s Hush“, did come to an end in August of 2005. (If you get a chance, check it out.)

You can pick Hush up through the publisher or Amazon, or order it into your local bookstore.

Reviews:

“Hush is the holy mother, ripped on boilermakers and pointing to heaven.”
Lollipop magazine (Fall 1999)

“Some writers capture places that we have all seen in memories or dreams. Walking through Anne Stone’s works is a little like falling unconscious and coming to in a world where everything is dreamy and time has lost meaning.”
Canadian Content (June 2000)

“… provocative, oftentimes poetic and totally heart-wrenching… [Stone’s Hush & Dupre’s Memoria] should be applauded for stretching our definition of the novel beyond conventional limits, and reminding us that memory is not simply the ability to store and retrieve information.
Gazette (Montréal, August ’99)

“Hush presents crystalline shards of richly distilled language, steeped in memory, personal history and evocation of the world gone awry.”
Globe and Mail (Toronto, July ’99)

“Stone writes of a world where violence is creeping, like a parasitic vine. The narrator never seems to be quite conscious, frequently dreaming, and her sleepiness pervades the story, which unfolds more like a night of dreams than in any linear, chronological order… Stone’s writing seems to come from a dark and desperate place; it is the sort of thing written because there is no choice but to write… Stone has created her own world — drawn in fuzzy, bleeding brush strokes.”
the Peak (Vancouver, 31 May 1999)