Postcards From A Dead Girl

The ambiguity of death will forever fascinate novelists. It’s a tempting storyline that offers depth and exploration, but it can also be a difficult reach. Colorado novelist Kirk Farber’s debut, Postcards From A Dead Girl, sharply combines an unhealthy fascination with death and the anxiety that arises from love and relationships.

Farber writes from the perspective of his protagonist Sid, whose life is reeling after the death of his girlfriend Zoe. Sid is not entirely a reliable narrator, however, as he’s likely losing his mind. He starts to receive exotic postcards from Zoe a year after her supposed death, forcing him to face a blurred reality that he may or may not have created for himself.

Farber, through a compelling first-person narrative, details the wide scope of Sid’s neurosis: He is perpetually consumed by the fear of nonexistent disease. He makes a list of the most exciting ways to die. The scent of lilac randomly bombards his nostrils. And though he can be overly dramatic, immature even, Sid’s thoughts come in short and clear bursts that are convincingly sincere. It’s not that he revels in his melodrama, he just doesn’t know how to shed it.

Sid attempts to piece together his life and to discover the origin of the postcards, but his zombie-like depression has left him nearly incapable of normal human interaction. His journey for answers leads him to several of the postcards’ international locations, including an auto shop in New Jersey where he is scolded for riding the kids' coin-operated dolphin. Sid’s neurotic behavior becomes a recurring question throughout the novel: Did Zoe really die? Or has Sid created a twisted reality that keeps him from having to accept their failed relationship?

Farber delivers dark insights into Sid’s damaged soul with a quick, torrid prose that creates a strong empathy for Sid. The great energy of Postcards comes from its simple portrayal of love’s manic grip, life’s absurdity, and death’s paralyzing gaze.