Raised in a town that prizes poets above doctors and astronauts, the narrator of THE THIRTEENTH MONTH is a constant reader, and it is through books--real and imagined--that he experiences the world, from the libraries of Dar es Salaam to the dead-end streets of Cleveland. While he believes he is being prepared to write himself, he is ultimately called to a different, less romantic task--helping his increasingly demented mother die.
Bruno Schulz described a thirteenth month as an unnatural time when "one may be touched by the divine finger of poetry." Hamilton shows that touch to be both divine and troubling. Elegantly structured, THE THIRTEENTH MONTH follows the elusive thread between the books we read, the actions we take and the people we become.