Ben Miller's book proves challenging

There is a denseness to Ben Miller's prose that, at times, impedes the reader's progress through his memoir. One gets a foretaste of what is to come from the book's title and subtitle: “River Bend Chronicle: The Junkification of a Boyhood Idyll Amid the Curious Glory of Urban Iowa” (Lookout Books, 458 pages, $17.95).

Miller, who grew up in Davenport, explores the dysfunction of his family life, including his fraught relationship with his mother. Here's Miller describing the nature of their relationship in the somewhat opaque style that fills the book: “I remained a glutton for humiliation. If eager to be clear of her currents of pain, I was equally horrified of any final rejection and detachment, which promised, at least at the start, to fling me into another state of unprecedented incoherence, the confusion wrought by bitter yellow light hitting darkest spaces never before lit.”

An odd book design decision asks much of the reader, as well. The text is not broken into paragraphs. Rather, large swathes of text, left justified but unjustified on the right, confront the reader who might easily lose his or her way through them. This affectation - whether originally intended by the author or imposed by the publisher - is distracting at best and wearying at worst.

To be sure, “River Bend Chronicle” offers the reader rewards as well as challenges. Miller's voice is unique and his account of an Iowa life is a far cry from many other memoirs penned by Iowans - many of them featuring rural life and a nostalgic tone. But one should not embark upon a journey with Miller lightly. His sad-unto-tragic tale demands one's full attention, and occasionally one's patience.