Matthew Clayfield

Nov 6, 2023 | matthewclayfield.substack.com | Matthew Clayfield

If you read any contemporary fiction at all—at least any that has been written by men—you doubtless know the type already. David Foster Wallace’s hideous men, Keith Gessen’s sad young literary ones. In a classic New York Review of Books essay, ‘Great American Losers,’ Elaine Blair highlighted the work of Franzen, Shteyngart, and others, too. In the man who feels himself unloved and unlovable such writers had invented a new archetype, she suggested. His loserdom, she wrote, is total.

Nov 6, 2023 | matthewclayfield.substack.com | Matthew Clayfield

The case was closed, or in any case was closing. We had traced my keys to the night of the crime and on that night to the backbencher’s pocket. My run-in with the faceless men had convinced us that we knew too much. It was time to enlist the support of the professionals. All that remained was to present our findings. The police would have to do the rest.

Nov 5, 2023 | matthewclayfield.substack.com | Matthew Clayfield

He asked me whether I would have a glass of wine. Like the restaurateur, he had made an assumption. I told him I was happy with water. We sat on his balcony and had a cigarette. I hoped he was wearing something beneath his kimono. Thanks for reading Matthew’s Substack! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. There were pictures of his wife and children littered about the apartment. They were framed and given pride of place. He even appeared to be happy in a few of them.

Nov 5, 2023 | matthewclayfield.substack.com | Matthew Clayfield

I continued to loiter for an hour or two, chain-smoking cigarettes on the corner near the post office. If I hadn’t known what I was planning to do earlier, I certainly didn’t have any idea now. I suspect I was thinking I might be able to follow him. It would be difficult in an Ola, but I could try. The backbencher’s reaction had been telling. His anger had been wild, damning. It was true I had accused him of murder to his face. But most people would have proclaimed their innocence.

Nov 4, 2023 | matthewclayfield.substack.com | Matthew Clayfield

He snorted. You’re mad, you bastard, he said, and downed his own glass in a single mouthful. The bull had decided at the last minute not to charge. He pulled the other glass back towards him and sat down unsteadily on the nearest stool. What the fuck do you want, then? he asked. I wanted to ask you about Kevin McInerney. Thanks for reading Matthew’s Substack! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. He glanced at me queerly. What about him? he asked.