Review of “Self Storage: A Novel” by Gayle Brandeis

A novel about self storage? Really? Genuinely set against the background of the self storage industry? Yes indeed, and Gayle Brandeis’s novel is written with considerable charm, verve, invention and skill.

The philosophy of self

In Italy, self-service petrol stations are flagged by roadside signs bearing the single word “Self”. To any English-speaking traveller, this unorthodox abbreviation can pose a moment of wry reflection as you pull in to fill up. What kind of “self” is this appealing to? Self-indulgence perhaps, a reference to carbon footprint? Self-analysis? (Probably not self-esteem, anyhow.)

The same goes for “self storage”, an expression that is unavoidable in the modern suburban world, emblazoned in huge letters on hundreds of self storage facilities up and down the country. It turns the narrator of Self Storage: A Novel towards some philosophical musings: “When you see the term ‘Self Storage’ all the time, you can’t help but start to think about it. You wonder things like where, exactly, is the self stored? Is it in the heart? The head? The pelvis? Is it something that billows through us like a ghost?”

The world of self storage auctions

The narrator is Flan Parker, mother of two young children, and wife of Shae, an academic struggling to find the motivation to complete his obscure dissertation on “virtual selfhood” in the age of computers and video games. They live on a Californian university campus dedicated to students and academics with families.

To make ends meet, Flan goes to self storage auctions, or “lien sales”, where the possessions of clients who have defaulted on their rental payments are auctioned off. Such auctions are carried out rapidly — so rapidly that would-be bidders are given just a minute to view the contents of a unit (still boxed and wrapped) before the auction. Effectively, they have to make an instinctive punt on the possible value of the contents. “You develop a sixth sense from the smell of  jewelry, the smell of electronics. TVs emit a hot, charged smell, even if they haven’t been turned on for years, while diamonds smell blue, like sweet cold water.”

Flan takes the spoils of her successful bids home, sorts them out, and then sells the individual items off at regular yard sales, mainly to her neighbours on the university campus. It makes her a small profit to supplement the family income.

Happy families

Gayle Brandeis, through her narrator Flan, paints an alluring image of relaxed and easy-going campus life. There is an air of hippie communal living in the shared bring-a-dish meals with neighbours, the ready offers of support, the engaged multi-ethnicity, and the ethos of self-help, second-hand chic and recycling. The residents despise materialistic “shiny people”. Set against this are competing stresses of family life with toddlers, and its sexual frustrations (aired with refreshing frankness). Husband Shae’s indolence is the cause of marital tension, depicted with a mixture of amused disgust and the kind of slow-burn domestic despair that is moulded by affection: “Shae was sacked out on the couch when we got home, his hand buried in a bag of cheese puffs”.

So far, so good. Even the fact that Flan’s family all have food-inspired nicknames (son Noodle; Flan herself) seems forgivable in the warmth and believability of the setting. However, as the plot thickens, and pulls in the racial and security tensions in the immediate aftermath of 9/11, Flan and her family become swept up in a series of events beyond their control. Well, that happens in real life, of course; but the increased strain of circumstances also seems to infect the psychological coherence of the book itself. As Flan starts to take some ill-advised initiatives, especially to aid her unsympathetic, burqa-clad Afghan neighbour, the reader is left thinking: “Why would she do that?” Flan somehow shifts from being agreeably self-reflective to being self-indulgent, and self-obsessed. And, frankly, a bit odd.

Self storage: “Song of Myself”

All the while, Flan’s narrative is hooked into her favourite piece of literature, the classic American poetic work Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman, and especially the section called “Song of Myself”, dating from 1855 (sections of which are helpfully reproduced as an appendix). The intertwining of quotations from this source, many of them rather opaque, sometimes seems a bit forced. (Has this conceit even driven the narrative in places?)

To judge from the reviews, some readers don’t hold such reservations, and admire Gayle Brandeis’s skill in depicting the changed world post-9/11, and her ability to fuse together such a large cast of very disparate characters. She is undoubtedly an author of great skill, who can pull her readers into the world that she creates, and reward them with moments of acute observation, and delightful turns of phrase. Self Storage: A Novel is full of memorable moments, vibrant characters and strong visual images.

Perhaps it was too much to ask to attach a story of great moment and profundity to the idea of self storage, at once an industry and a philosophical concept. If  Brandeis doesn’t quite manage to pull a rabbit out of this particular hat (or a gem from a storage box), one has at least to admire her ambition.

And if there is anyone out there with connections to the storage industry who is thinking “Self Storage: A Novel, is that for me?” the  answer is yes: give it a go. Staff within the storage industry will get something from seeing their world from a different perspective, and clients too will gain some useful insights — particularly clients at risk of defaulting on their rent.

Gayle Brandeis, Self Storage: A Novel, first published by Ballantine Books, New York, 2007, 251pp. Paperback version, 2008: ISBN-10: 0345492617;  ISBN-13: 978-0345492616; RPR £9.49; Kindle Edition £8.29.

One Response to “Review of “Self Storage: A Novel” by Gayle Brandeis”

1. Paul D Reynolds says:

   August 17, 2010 at 7:32 pm

   A novel about self storage? Really? With hundreds of thousands of storage facilities all across North America it was inevitable. Yes indeed, and Gayle Brandeis’s novel is written with “considerable charm, verve, invention and skill.” according to the Review by Anthony. [Well written and interesting review ! ]
   Live other self storage owners I am anxiously awaiting the casting call for the movie. Should I get my hair cut? Loose a few pounds? O better how about the Storage – the Action Game?