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I understand that saying “It really starts to pick up around the 450-page mark” isn’t exactly a can’t-miss recommendation of a 700-page book, and I also understand that I’ve written something similar about almost every 400+ page book I’ve read. I also understand that might be a reflection of my conflating the runner’s high of cresting a literary marathon’s halfway mark with the thrill of reading great writing. And yet! Maybe it’s the Charlie Kaufman fan in me, but I do sort of believe that those thrills don’t have to be mutually exclusive? That maybe it’s possible for a book that feels like an inane chore for 200-odd pages to unexpectedly open up and start paying off some of that legwork - the whole “that mountain looks insurmountable, I don’t want to climb it, I can’t, wait, look, I’m doing it!, it’s actually kind of beautiful up here, etc.” thing - and for the quirks of voice and syntax that seem laborious upfront to become familiar and possibly ingenious by the back nine? But who’s to say - I also want to feel important for reading long, “smart” books, so there’s always going to be a self-serving need to intellectualize away any less-then-effusive thoughts about a book I’m “supposed” to like. So here are those grains of salt you’ll be needing, I suppose. And I understand.
But I DO like it! Have you seen that Lupe Fiasco tweet where he reviewed his own album and gave it a 7/10? Well this is like the baby of that and Gravity’s Rainbow. All of Kaufman’s greatest movies are in here, name-checked explicitly as our protagonist derides them for their infinite (in his eyes) flaws. But we don’t really believe him (or Kaufman via him), because there are thoughts and themes from all of them scattered throughout this absurdist waterslide into insanity. There’s memory stuff from Eternal Sunshine, identity stuff from Being John Malkovich, meta-creative stuff from Adaptation, slippery reality stuff from I’m Thinking of Ending Things, and so on. But he doesn’t just borrow from himself; there’s also inversion stuff from Tenet, satirical stuff from Vonnegut/Heller, cartoonish slapstick stuff from Looney Tunes, and ~so~ on. It’s a smorgasbord affair, really, but its ten million distinct influences still aren’t enough to override the inimitable voice of Kaufman - one of our greatest imagineers, still imagining things the rest of us couldn’t think up with the aid of the strongest substances in existence. If having to occasionally slog through interminable ramblings and indecipherable dreamscapes to get to that pure, unrefined imagination isn’t a trade you’re willing to make, I’ll understand. I’ll disagree, but I’ll understand.
But I DO like it! Have you seen that Lupe Fiasco tweet where he reviewed his own album and gave it a 7/10? Well this is like the baby of that and Gravity’s Rainbow. All of Kaufman’s greatest movies are in here, name-checked explicitly as our protagonist derides them for their infinite (in his eyes) flaws. But we don’t really believe him (or Kaufman via him), because there are thoughts and themes from all of them scattered throughout this absurdist waterslide into insanity. There’s memory stuff from Eternal Sunshine, identity stuff from Being John Malkovich, meta-creative stuff from Adaptation, slippery reality stuff from I’m Thinking of Ending Things, and so on. But he doesn’t just borrow from himself; there’s also inversion stuff from Tenet, satirical stuff from Vonnegut/Heller, cartoonish slapstick stuff from Looney Tunes, and ~so~ on. It’s a smorgasbord affair, really, but its ten million distinct influences still aren’t enough to override the inimitable voice of Kaufman - one of our greatest imagineers, still imagining things the rest of us couldn’t think up with the aid of the strongest substances in existence. If having to occasionally slog through interminable ramblings and indecipherable dreamscapes to get to that pure, unrefined imagination isn’t a trade you’re willing to make, I’ll understand. I’ll disagree, but I’ll understand.