One of the most thrilling things about Salvatore Scibona’s second book, The Volunteer, is a refusal not just of this novelistic trend of smallness, but also of our own craven, personal brand-driven cultural moment ... What follows is a magnificent counterpoint of four generations of fathers and sons who roam geography and experience as Scibona braids the narrative strands of his various men in a way that is both disciplined and symphonic ... Scibona is a savage coiner of similes, one who’ll cut sublimity with bathos to snatch a reader’s breath away ... There are also roving, lyrical long shots of Queens streets that, in their grit and dazzle, recall the boyhood Bronx of Don DeLillo’s Underworld ... By paying grave attention to both worlds, both the self and everything beyond it, Scibona has built a masterpiece.
He conveys a world in a detail. Scibona can also take us into the broken heart of a child lost in a foreign airport, the shattering chaos of a night assault during the Vietnam War and the quiet intensity of a working-class New York neighborhood. Throughout, his ear-perfect dialogue percolates. Still, the moments of ecstasy are what most distinguish this book, one that trots the globe yet misses nothing ... The scope is far grander than in Scibona’s 2008 debut, The End (a National Book Award finalist), though the style remains jewel-like ... It’s teeming, brilliantly.
...outstanding, expansive ... Like King Lear that great exploration of 'unaccommodated man,' The Volunteer dramatizes the beauty and terror of self-undoing — and the role love might play in reconstituting a life ... The Volunteer is epic every way ... The prose in The Volunteer is less obviously brilliant than it was in The End; the style is quieter, almost restrained for stretches. But the lyrical heights of this second novel are, if anything, even higher ... The Volunteer will be described as a great historical novel, and it is.
... a war story unlike any other war story ... Sound dull? You're wrong. Tired and worn-out? Not even a little. Not here, in Scibona's hands, where the simplest things (nature, pride, a white t-shirt, the taste of water from one's home place) become mythic and strange, almost magical, imbued with meanings beyond the plain fact of their existence ... the way Scibona writes, there are few moments that don't feel enlivened with something ... more. Something extra. Some secret power of history, family or fate thrumming away unseen behind the curtains of the world, driving events. Some force that everyone who's paying attention can sense but not see, that drives a chain of bad decisions and selfish acts that echo down through generations of families ... Scibona is a remarkable writer and The Volunteer is a remarkable book.
The Volunteer is written with well-chosen words and descriptions beyond the imagination. Scibona’s mastery of word pictures places him in the running for the highest accolades and awards. Not only is the novel a literary diamond, the storytelling is first-rate ... Throughout the novel, readers enter the minds of each and every player and become engrossed in a positive outcome for their predicaments ... A lengthy read, The Volunteer crosses not only borders but also timelines to tell a far-reaching story. The book transcends art at its highest level, and is insightful, passionate and meaningful.
The structure of the book is like that of shattered glass ... The characters are joined not by chronology, by begats, but by their fate—abandonment—which Scibona announces in the opening pages, in a scene of great cruelty ... Rarely do we understand why these people can’t stay with those who care for them and whom they seem to care for. But actually, the book asks, why should they? What do we owe one another, after all?... if we aren’t somebody’s mother or son or whatever—do we have any identity, any 'self'? ... Having placed most of his characters in the same emotional landscape, how does Scibona manage to give them different lives? Sometimes he just insists, by the sheer force of the imagery he attaches to them ... Sometimes, however, Scibona pointedly does not insist on his characters’ distinctiveness. Indeed, he undermines it, most notably by the theme of abandonment and the unity that it makes among them. That, I think, is the book’s greatest quality: the spectral manner in which characters keep melting into and out of one another. Of course, this makes their story seem universal; we are all abandoned, the book is saying. ... The whole novel gradually acquires a kind of overhang, compact of heat and car exhaust, enigma and cruelty. It is the atmosphere, the air, of the book.
The Volunteer possesses an intensity of purpose and takes in a broad sweep of time; here, from the sixties and into the future ... Through Scibona’s masterful storytelling, modest, vulnerable characters—vividly imagined—are transformed into cherished and tragic souls able to seize benevolence and love as they try to make sense of an often senseless world. Scibona’s immersive, intense, and somber novel, its language eloquent and moving, deserves and requires a close reading ... The Volunteer is a stirring examination into the meaning of family, identity, belonging, and sacrifice, and the effects of institutional power at its most horrifying.
[Scibona’s] new work, The Volunteer, demands the patience to follow an enigmatic plot that gives little hint as to where it’s headed. But for those who stay the course, the rewards are enormous. This is a spectacular work of fiction ... the prose moves with a lighter step [than Scibona’s previous work] but is just as pungent ... Scibona’s story is as big as his ambition ... Scibona’s writing, always strong, is especially evocative while summoning working-class street life in Queens or the GI’s fears in Vietnam ... To be sure, some of Scibona’s scenes stretch out too long. But The Volunteer lingers in the memory, a thrilling work bursting with a love of the English language and compassion for poor, broken humanity.
This intricate book spans decades and continents and incorporates multiple, looping stories ... A searing record of war and the lies people live by, The Volunteer is also a map of an alternative America, populated by men sleeping on the beds of trucks and women scrounging cigarettes and beer. Along the way Mr Scibona explores the process of forgetting, the longing to be singled out for love and the price of saying 'no' when you want to say 'yes.' He is as adept at conjuring memorable images and sensations as in conveying his themes ... Despite all the destruction and despair, in this novel hope emerges as the wildest high.
Scibona’s lyrical yet muscular prose anchors this majestic work as he probes deep philosophical questions about family, identity, belonging, and sacrifice ... Scibona’s greatest strength is his ability to inhabit each character with profound psychological depth to explore their guilt, doubt, and humanity. This novel rewards close reading and deserves wide readership.
Scibona’s story takes in a broad sweep of time, looking into the future to foresee an end that may not be so terrible but that is just as certain. The plot sometimes threatens to come off the rails, but throughout, the narrative is marked by distinctive lyricism and striking images ... A touch overlong and sometimes perplexing but original and memorable.
...[a] spirited second novel ... Like the late Robert Stone, Scibona exhibits a command of language and demonstrates a knack for dramatizing the tidal pull of history on individual destiny. The novel accrues real power as its vividly imagined characters try to make sense of an often senseless world. This is a bold, rewarding novel.