The End of the Alphabet

Working in retail has introduced new challenges to my life that require creative thinking, sweet-talking and a very fake smile. This past Sunday leant itself to a new challenge for someone fairly new to the full-time retail experience. After somehow losing the book I was currently reading I suddenly found myself ill-prepared for an extremely slow day of work. My 5-hour shift was spent alone in the Amherst shop only welcoming the occasional browser, never buyer. Thankfully essentials offers several books that at least look interesting on the shelf, although the Amherst location is somewhat lacking in that area. One title we sell, The End of the Alphabet, has been on the shelf for the entire time I’ve been working at the store, never catching my (or any of the customer’s) interest. Perhaps it’s the hefty price tag for such a small book that makes everyone shrink away. I must admit, my main problem has been the cover. I can’t get past that front piece of paper. With ever only a glance while stocking, all I could ever see was an Egyptian camel and the word “alphabet” which automatically lead me to believe the book was nothing more than an acrostic for the ABC’s with “camel” undoubtedly standing for the letter C.
Fifteen minutes into my shift boredom got the best of me and I wandered over to the set up of books, looking for the one that I could easily read while not ruining the binding for the customer who will ultimately buy the book. The End of the Alphabet seemed like the best choice with its small frame, hard cover and lack of interest from our customer base. The book is the first from author CS Richardson, and it’s usually my belief that any first book is valiant but either lacking in style or grace. Although the odds were stacked against it (Acrostic? The first? Egypt?) I gave it a try.
The premise of Alphabet was probably the most gimmicky in existence. It’s been done several times before in every variation possible, and parts of Richardson’s writing style made my eyes roll. Yet there was something about this book that worked. The story follows an alphabet connoisseur 50-something named Ambrose Zephyr and his wife Zappora “Zipper” Ashkenazi. I know, I know; those names are enough to put the book down but I kept on going. The plot ensues and Ambrose gets word from the doctor soon after the book opens that he only has a month to live. During the night after getting this news, Ambrose decides to go to places that have meaning for him over his last month on earth—one place for each letter of the alphabet (yuck). It must be said that the plot and characters are the worst part about the book. Each element that Richardson adds after he puts forth his disgustingly bland and overdone plot device made me thankful that I continued to read.
Richardson knows how to use the right amount of whim to drive the reader to understand Ambrose and Zipper’s emotions and recognize themselves in these characters. The story rides a wave of romanticism throughout and thankfully does not painfully go through each letter of the alphabet only allowing the character to die after the site of “Z” has been conquered. The aesthetics of Alphabet work because it ends quickly without too much wordiness about the death or even the thirty days Ambrose was left to live. The novel is quick, painless, and just emotional enough for such a short read.
This is a case of an author knowing how to place a reader into a story—make a reader want to befriend the characters without the cheese so many sappy novels that deal with death. What Richardson has not quite grasped yet in his writing is a unique story to tell, one that isn’t trite or obvious. As I’ve said before, this is the premier novel and improvement will undoubtedly come with time. I’ll be happy to read a second novel by Richardson, but only if I am stuck again, without entertainment, working in a store with no customers on a boring Sunday afternoon.