Reviews of three new books.   Creepy Susie and 13 Other Tragic Tales for Troubled Children by Angus Oblong (Ballantine, 166 pages, $16.95) GOOD ENOUGH FOR TELEVISION A crazy mother who shaves cats and applies découpage Elvises to their bodies. Weirdo boys who grow up to be normal guys thanks to electroshock therapy. A brother who takes revenge on his sister by telling her friends she's a hermaphrodite. These are the twisted characters that lurk throughout Aussie author/illustrator Angus Oblong's storybook for adults. The vaguely Edward Gorey-esque subjects represent some of our most ordinary fears and most hideous humiliations: Rosie grows up to be just like her wacko mom; fat, ugly Helga smells and is tormented by the pretty and popular Debbies. Imagine, for a second, that you're a pubescent girl. Imagine that you rise after a school assembly, wearing light-colored pants, only to discover that you just got your period for the first time ever--and the entire student body now knows it. That's the level of uneasiness invoked by these vignettes, whose punchlines would be simplistic if they weren't coda to such wicked context. There are no happy endings, just humorous middles. In the title story, for example, the reader is told that Creepy Susie, who keeps a collection of dead rats and chickens, has a perfectly normal family--except for her father, who is a midget albino cross-dresser. The ending? Well, she solves the problem of the boy with a crush on her in a way only a girl like Susie could. Can't get enough of the sick kids? No problem: Next fall, WB will premiere The Oblongs, a TV series about a family with mental and physical defects caused by the toxic valley they live in, based on the characters in this book. And you thought South Park was demented. Christina Melander   Pass the Polenta by Teresa Lust (Ballantine, 265 pages, $11.95) ALL THE FIXIN'S The author's awakening to the simplicity and the dimension of good ol' fashioned food is what you'll find in Teresa Lust's first book, Pass the Polenta. From her parents' Italian-German lineage to her tutelage under insightful, often quirky mentors, Lust weaves a beautiful tale that takes us on a kitchen tour of her culinary development. The essays center on the lessons she learned when she attempted to turn her back on her past and embrace haute cuisine. Realizing that she'd never see caviar as anything but trout bait, she decided that she preferred to celebrate the ordinary folks who gave her cooking the most meaning. Lust shares her delicious discoveries with the reader with wit and heart. Here she sings the praises of old-fashioned stuffing, scones and strawberry shortcake, raising the cookbook to new levels by adding culinary lore to each of the featured ingredients or recipes. We learn about the humble origins of the Italian peasant fare we know and love as polenta, and we take a trip to China where we discover that soured cabbage was first eaten by the builders of the Great Wall, not by folks in Germany as many people assume. Lust connects the modern table to the past, opening our eyes to the part food has played in the triumph of cultures and nations. She brings us all this, as well as step-by-step accounts in each chapter of how to produce each recipe. Engaging to the end, this book is highly recommended. Olivia Barker   Falling Dark by Tim Tharp (Milkweed, 271 pages, $21.95) HIGH TIMES IN OKLAHOMA The arcane world of pot growers is exposed in this convoluted love story set in rural Oklahoma. First-time novelist Tim Tharp displays all the skills of a seasoned author as he rolls up deeply drawn characters and loads of atmosphere in this engrossing tale. The story begins with the Bless family struggling after the father is killed in a random act of violence. Mother Donna battles--often unsuccessfully--her desire to drink away her pain. The boys, slight young Nelson and his responsible big brother, Wesley, turn to other people in search of a sense of family. These tragic figures muddle along until their paths cross with some aging outlaws who make a living growing marijuana. Roy Dale is a beer-guzzling opportunist who befriends Donna in one of her weakest moments. He is part of a ring of aging ex-hippies who once lived together on a commune. Sam Casey, the guy who made enough money in the construction business to actually buy the communal farm, is weary of the illegal doings. He decides this year's crop will be his last. As the Blesses get sucked into Roy Dale's delusional web, the story becomes heavy with a sense of dread. There are two possible outcomes; which road will the narrative take? This examination of how choices affect our lives is full of vivid glimpses into private moments. From Sam Casey's kitchen to his pot field, from Roy Dale's squalid trailer to the Git-N-Go, Falling Dark stacks scene upon excellent scene to illuminate the gray areas that lurk between good and evil. For the last 10 years, Milkweed Editions, a Minneapolis small press, has awarded an annual prize to its most exemplary work of fiction. Susan Straight's Aquaboogie won in 1990; Larry Watson's Montana 1948 won in 1993. Now Falling Dark joins this good company as the winner of Milkweed's 1999 National Fiction Prize. Susan Wickstrom   - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Willamette Week | originally published January 5, 1999