In Household Mechanics, Sarah Mangold's brilliant and eccentric first book, the story is never fully told but introduced and re-introduced. Line after dislocated line recalls our own attempt to reach the essence of the subject in the only way we know how-by continuously broaching it. Here, overheard conversation, family stories, literary theory, music, and even TV become part of history, the story one tells and retells. By turns playful and acerbic, Mangold reveals the futility of even trying to tell it right: there is no right, says Household Mechanics; there is no end to this, or any, tale.
