Thursday, August 2, 2012

A Heartbreak(ing Work Of Staggering Genius)

There's that.

I finished A Heartbreaking Work Of Staggering Genius on Monday; you're reading this now, a few days later, because I have a Social Life that I like to maintain -- a life of fun, a life of carefree adventures, adventures into the wilderness where I hunt (wild) boars.[1] I grab life by the proverbial balls, but not in a sexual way -- this is but a saying, you see, where I explain my zest for life (my joie de vivre, if you will -- s'il vous plait)[2] though if pressured I'd be completely unable to explain the connection between testicle grasping[3] and a carpe-diem attitude.[4]

What was I talking about? Right. A Heartbreaking Work Of Staggering Genius.

Fucking awesome book. My favorite one of the summer -- stayed great right through the end, and it even got darker! I can't really write a synopsis, though, since the book didn't have much of a plot, or at least it didn't have one in the traditional sense. Things happen to characters, but it's not necessarily chronological[5] and any narrative flow is broken up by Eggers's constant (in the second half) shattering of the fourth wall.

The best quality of the book, I think, is that Dave is self-aware and his characters -- initially Toph, then later this John guy[6] -- can completely change temperament and act as methods of his self-critique. Dialogue between Dave and Toph, for example, will become Dave talking to himself about his motives for including a particular part of his life in the book. John's parts in particular are especially depressing and aggressive.

Everyone loves lists.[7]

Ian's Arbitrary Decisions For The Best Parts Of AHWOSG

  1. That first frisbee scene. I can't adequately explain how wonderful it is. You know how a little kid will sometimes explain something that happened to him, but he's excited about it, and he keeps on talking in a way that's really exasperated and he keeps jumping between subjects -- mentioning things that are only tangentially connected to the story at hand, like maybe some inane anecdote about a Thing some minor character in his tale did a While Ago, because, see, to understand this part of the story, you have to remember that Steve has that standing issue with tangerines -- but he doesn't care about the narrative thread (hence all the recursion and backstory) because he's just got to get it all out into space for you -- anyone -- to hear, and, well, Jimmy said he didn't like my pet lizard even though he knows he's my favorite and one day he'll turn into a dragon and Jimmy's cat is a shithead anyway? It's a lot like that, but with beach frisbee; it's perfect.
  2. Heidi Eggers's nosebleed. Mrs. Eggers gets a nosebleed during her battle with cancer. She's got a low white blood cell count, so this is a Huge Deal. It will not stop bleeding; she might die, but if she does, it will be because they (Dave and his sister, Beth) did not bring her to the hospital -- but they're not bringing her to the hospital because they promised her she wouldn't have to go back there ever again. Dave panics (duh!) and manically writes every thought he has, every detail  -- is this it? is she dying now? who should I call? ugh, gotta buy a new cordless phone; is K-Mart open? I'm going to have to tell them what kind of phone I have; may as well just bring it to the store, but then I won't be able to call -- and it's the most accurate representation of panic I've read. In general, it makes for some dynamite literature whenever Dave delves into a seemingly-endless string of clauses.
  3. The interview for The Real World. Dave[8] is working on starting a magazine, Might, at same the time The Real World comes to San Francisco. In true hipster style, he despises The Real World and never misses an episode.[9] He provides a "transcription" of the interview that starts off normal (and hilarious) and changes over into one of those Dave's-Talking-To-Himself things, but what makes it unique is that he isn't yelling at himself as much as he is explaining exactly why he's writing the memoir. All that talk about being the Tragic One, about "being owed," is crucially important as to why the book exists in the first place. It's sort of like the ending monologue of Childish Gambino's "That Power"[10] in that it's about the dissemination of pain; maybe spreading it out and telling everybody makes it more bearable.[11]

Also I just read that Beth killed herself in November 2001, about a year after A Heartbreaking Work Of Staggering Genius was released. That is sad. Here is an adorable puppy gif:




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[1] This is untrue.
[2] CAN YOU SMELL THE CULTURE? I AM A MAN OF MULTIPLE FACETS.
[3] Options rejected for your comfort: "ball squeezing," "nut wringing."
[4] More like a carpe-ballem, am I right? Guys?
[5] To a point; the "My parents are dead!" thing is a crucial catalyst.
[6] I don't even think this is a real person. He only shows up in two(ish) parts of the memoir and both times his dialogue devolves into Eggers haranguing himself. This is not at all a bad thing -- I really, really liked its darkness -- and it's the best way we can know how fucked up Dave is about this whole scenario.
[7] Especially KG.
[8] Mr. Eggers?
[9] Chuck Klosterman wrote about The Real World's place in the American zeitgeist, too: something about cultural archetypes.
[10] Starts at 3:15, but listen to the song, too, 'cause it's fly.
[11] The Acknowledgement Of Themes in the book's Preface makes this part especially clear. Good guy Dave tells you exactly what all the themes and metaphors are up front!

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