The first thing you need to know about me is that I am a writer. . . . I quit writing for one reason, then stayed for another. The first reason was I killed myself, which obviously makes it hard to go on writing.
Saturday, May 04, 2013
Flimsy Little Plastic Miracles by Ron Currie Jr.
Ron Currie Jr. came on my reader radar when colleagues at the high school started shoving copies of his Everything Matters in my face a few years back. Currie is a rising talent, having won a Young Lions Fiction Award from the New York Public library in 2007 for his first books, God is Dead. I was excited when I recently spotted this new novel on the Recent Releases display at one of the coolest independent bookstores I have visited in a long time - Malaprop's Books in Asheville, NC. I broke my moratorium on book buying and started reading it in the car, read more in the hotel, finished it as soon as I got home, so I could give it to that Currie-loving colleague - my rationalization for buying a new book in the first place. Flimsy Little Plastic Miracles is an experiment in metafiction. Ron Currie is both author and main character ( a la Tim O'Brien). One of the first things a reader notices is that some of the pages are only about one third covered with text. Some half full. Not many full consecutive pages in the book at all. This is because Currie jumps subjects like a jack rabbit. Some pages are about Ron's unquenchable love for the elusive Emma. Some are about his father's death. Some are about being banished to a Caribbean island where he is frequently violently knocked around by locals. Some are, most obscurely, about Ray Kurzweil's
Singularity, predicted to occur in 2045. I kept turning pages because the book began with a hefty promise for excitement.
Ron Currie's suicide propels the narrative but details and motives are murky and I didn't end up believing any part of the story that the authoritative narrative voice promises is completely capital T - true. I wanted to love it - but in the end the ploy was as flimsy as the title.