... and anyone who thinks that’s bad should get decked.

Even avid readers are unfamiliar with Steven Millhauser.  

For the uninitiated (virtually everyone), Millhauser began his career in 1972 with the brilliant novel “Edwin Mullhouse.” Since then, he has written four novels (including 1997’s “Martin Dressler,” which won the Pulitzer Prize) and five collections of short stories. One story, “Eisenheim the Illusionist,” became the 2006 film “The Illusionist.”

Despite the Pulitzer and the recent Hollywood treatment of his work, Millhauser still seems to fly under the radar of the fiction establishment and public attention.

Pity, that.  

Truth be told, Millhauser is one of the few contemporary writers who regularly flirts with genius. Although his novels are bit more hit-and-miss, it’s the short-story genre where he achieves feats about which other writers can only aspire.  

Furthermore, trying to explain exactly what makes Millhauser so special seems to risk diminishing his abilities. Like a joke, mystery or dream, elaborating on his ideas somewhat seems to undermine them. Therein may lie the elusive appeal of Millhauser.  

That appeal has once again been validated with his latest collection: “Dangerous Laughter: 13 Stories.” 

His new collection is kicked off with Cat ‘n’ Mouse, a WTF-inspiring yarn in which Millhauser portrays with simply the written word something we’re only familiar with only through visuals – the reality-bending rivalry of Tom and Jerry (or Itchy and Scratchy, depending on your birth date). The two unnamed mammals go about their never-ending chase complete with explosives and booby traps. However, Millhauser seems to taunt the genre by doing something – through words – that the cartoon companions were unable to achieve: getting inside the two’s heads. It’s a great idea, and Millhauser renders it superbly. It’s fair to say that even short-story aficionados have never read anything quite like it.  

Another trump card is “The Disappearance of Elaine Coleman.” As the title suggests, the story follows the narrator’s report on the abrupt vanishing of a young woman from her locked apartment, with no signs of forced entry or exit. Even for a “Twilight Zone” enthusiast such as myself, I found the final explanation for her disappearance unexpected and wholly satisfying, but also bizarre in a way that stuck with me for days. There are long novels that could never hope to capture the level of revelation Millhauser achieves in 10 pages, with this one.  

Millhauser has long been compared to the Argentinean writer Jorge Luis Borges, a writer who spun short stories that transcended not only the medium, but at-times virtually any form of storytelling, with his mind-blowing subjects. Millhauser once again shows that he may be the American successor of Borges through “The Tower” and “The Dome,” two tales that stretch the limits of imagination with concepts too massive even to describe, here.  

Some critics have complained that “Dangerous Laughter” drags toward the end. This isn’t an unmerited observation. Also, the arrangement of the stories by themes seems like a clever idea, but things would have been much better for the reader if the stories were interspersed.  

These minor flaws can be forgiven, though, when the rewards are as rich and plentiful as those from Millhauser’s fiction. Readers looking for something different would be wise to investigate this overlooked American talent.