Malfi, Ronald Damien. Via Dolorosa. Hyattsville: Raw Dog Screaming Press, 2006. 268 pp. ISBN 1933293217.

Ronald Damien Malfi’s Via Dolorosa tells the story of Nick, an artist and veteran of the war in Iraq. Nick stays at the Paradis d’Hotel with his new wife Emma to paint a mural that has been commissioned by the hotel. As the novel progresses, both the mural and the events of newlyweds’ stay on the island begin to reveal Nick’s internal landscape, which has been forever changed by his experiences at war.

Malfi masterfully uses the scenery of the hotel as a metaphor for the characters’ situation. A motif that recurs throughout the book is the use of signs around the hotel, e.g. “Limbo! How low can you go? Every night this week in the Riviera Room.” These signs appear when Nick’s situation is particularly uncertain. He sees one, for instance, when the hotel is evacuated and he finds that Emma is gone. The sign describes his indeterminate state in a subtle, clever way.

Another example of this subtle use of metaphor is the mural that Nick has been hired to paint, which turns out more violent than he initially intended. Malfi writes, “He had taken a beautiful island landscape, lush and green and idyllic, and had marred it, ruined it — had transformed it into a desolate desert panorama ... The distinction between tropical paradise and desert holocaust was suddenly nonexistent.” The aggression of the mural conveys Nick’s own internal violence. He tries to suppress it, but instead that violence manifests itself in his artwork. These motifs are gracefully integrated into the story, and this projection of plot elements onto the scenery of the book works well with the somber but poetic tone of the narrative.

The narrative voice of Via Dolorosa often describes the island scenery, noting the “steel-gray sky” and “dirty windowpanes,” and while the things Malfi describes are not particularly cheery or beautiful, the author’s metaphors invoke beauty in these dreary, everyday objects, as in this passage: “Shadows of potted plans and a dusty Coke machine at the end of the hall crossed each other like latticework.” Malfi achieves a serious yet lyrical tone that compliments the action of his novel in interesting and unexpected ways.

Via Dolorosa is a book of weird aesthetics and beautiful horrors. It's a keeper.

— Kristina Marie Darling