Apex Hides the Hurt

ONE


HE CAME UP WITH the names. They were good times. He came up with the names and like any good parent he knocked them around to teach them life lessons. He bent them to see if they'd break, he dragged them behind cars by heavy metal chains, he exposed them to high temperatures for extended periods of time. Sometimes consonants broke off and left angry vowels on the laboratory tables. How else was he to know if they were ready for what the world had in store for them?

Those were good times. In the office they greeted each other with Hey and Hey, man and slapped each other on the back a lot. In the coffee room they threw the names around like weekenders tossing softballs. Clunker names fell with a thud on the ground. Hey, what do you think of this one? They brainstormed, bullshitted, performed assorted chicanery, and then sometimes they hit one out of the park. Sometimes they broke through to the other side and came up with something so spectacular and unexpected, so appropriate to the particular thing waiting that the others could only stand in awe. You joined the hall of legends.

It was the kind of business where there were a lot of Eureka stories. Much of the work went on in the subconscious level. He was making connections between things without thinking and then, bam on the subway scratching a nose, or bam bam while stubbing a toe on the curb. Floating in neon before him was the name. When the products flopped, he told himself it was because of the marketing people. It was the stupid public. The crap-ass thing itself. Never the name because what he did was perfect.

Sometimes he had to say the name even though he knew it was fucked up, just to hear how fucked up it was. Everyone had their off days. Sometimes it was contagious. The weather turned bad and they had to suffer through a month of suffixes. Rummaging through the stores down below, they hung the staple kickers on a word: they -ex'ed it, they -it'ed it, they stuck good ole -ol on it. They

COLSON WHITEHEAD is the Pulitzer-Prize winning author of The Underground Railroad. His other works include The Noble Hustle, Zone One, Sag Harbor, The Intuitionist, John Henry Days, Apex Hides the Hurt, and one collection of essays, The Colossus of New York. A National Book Award winner and a recipient of MacArthur and Guggenheim fellowships, he lives in New York City.

WINNER OF THE PEN OAKLAND/JOSEPHINE MILES LITERARY AWARD

Wickedly funny.... Whitehead is making a strong case for a new name of his own: that of the best of the new generation of American novelists. The Boston Globe

"Breathtaking.... It's pure joy to read writing like this.... On almost every page there is a sentence to dazzle and delight."  San Francisco Chronicle

A brilliant, witty, and subtle novel, written in a most engaging style, with tremendous aptness of language and command of plot.   The New York Review of Books

Terrific.... Inspired.... Engaging, exuding energy.... Will have you nodding in wonder. The Miami Herald

Dazzling.... Gorgeous, expertly crafted sentences.... An eloquent novel about racial identity in America. Newsweek

Brilliant.... Exhilarating.... What keeps you reading this critique of language is its language, and our perverse delight in the ingenious abuse of words. The New York Times