Transit, J.D. Smith’s debut fiction collection, ranges from Central Mexico to the Asian side of Istanbul, with stops in Houston, Chicago and Washington, DC. Working in flash fiction, the traditional short story and a series of linked stories, Smith takes on race, ethnic identity, class and disability, along with the power dynamics of how they play out in everyday life. He also skewers the pretensions of those who think they are—somehow—above the fray.
Heartbreak leads to a drunken foray into vigilante justice, and the stresses that underlie achievement in high school come to light. A brick from a nineteenth-century city hall in Illinois finds a new place in twenty-first century Texas. Commerce shapes character, but not without resistance. Smith's fictional world has more than a little in common with other parts of the world—what some continue to call the “real world,” with all its sham and venality. Decisions made in a moment, with incomplete information and uncertain judgment, have permanent consequences. The sins of the fathers are indeed visited upon both sons and daughters.
With intelligence and compassion, as well as illuminating flashes of wit, Smith shows us how character, faith and sheer guesswork collide with circumstance. If Flannery O'Connor and Mickey Spillane had spawned a love child—whose godparents included Franz Kafka and Jorge Luis Borges—it would look a lot like Transit.
