Decadence
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- Pre-Order
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- Expected Jul 7, 2026
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- $9.99
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- Pre-Order
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- $9.99
Publisher Description
"The genre of memoir is b******t (as I humbly posit). No one actually lives like they are moving along some grand Freytag’s triangle. Rather, we live within isolated instances, specific struggles and victories, which, when compiled, form a narrative."—Richard Kelly Kemick
In Decadence, Richard Kelly Kemick’s “accidental memoir of a sort,” the author ranges widely through his myriad preoccupations and obsessions—volleyball, municipal landfills, dogs, high school plays, Christmas villages, love—out of which the shape of a unique sensibility is revealed. Reminiscent of the three Davids—Rakoff, Sedaris, and Wallace—these essays accrete into a portrait of a man trying to make sense of a world in which there are no goddamn rules; and yet one in which every action has sometimes profound consequences. A book of intelligence and care and kindness and humour and yearning and the occasional epiphany, Decadence gathers up from the odds and ends of living what makes a modern life—quiet and desperate as it may at times be—worth celebrating.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Journalist and poet Kemick (Hello, Horse) knits together his wide-ranging preoccupations—Christmas villages, dogs, marine life—for a funny and poignant memoir-in-essays on grief and longing. In "Playing God," Kemick reflects on his obsession with the Christmas village he's been assembling since he was a teenager. He compares hiding his compulsion to research new additions to his dog's skulking behind the bathtub when she needs to vomit, explaining "it's natural to want to be alone when you're doing what instinct demands." In "Sweeping It Under the Carpet," Kemick describes being unable to vacuum a patch of green shag carpet "phlegmatically faded" by the blond hair of his family's dog, Buddy, after they put him down. Elsewhere, a visit to the Vancouver Aquarium, home to the first Canadian beluga born in captivity, prompts Kemick to weigh his fascination with the awe-inspiring creatures against his belief that captive breeding is not only bad but "we are made worse by it," as it excuses "our slithering pollution" of the planet. Kemick's wit and curmudgeonly self-regard is offset by his palpable adoration of his partner, Litia, evoking the work of David Sedaris. It's a weird and rewarding ride.
