The astronaut, stripped of all its ornamentation, is a man who has an opportunity to take in all of the world without any of human reality getting in his way. Something about drifting in outer space and watching a blue marble floating makes you want to put things in a cosmic perspective, even if the things themselves are too removed from cosmic speculation to make good on that connection. So it goes with the characters in this story. It's very easy to give in to sentimentalism with stuff like this, but DeLillo delivers, and how.
Monday, December 28, 2015
Buddha Nostril Bird, by John Kessel
I swear, I had to read this one several times over before realizing the author didn't want me to take it that seriously either. The characters had no background, and you only ever got by thanks to the barest possible clues as to what their agenda is. Granted, these grow as the story proceeds, but the stakes become even more weird (for lack of a better word) and before you know it, reading it for the sake of the characters has suddenly lost all meaning.
Instead, this story is best approached with the enduring faith of a twelve year old reading a pulp fiction SF short story in a magazine. He will be willing to accept the weirdest predicaments for the sake of the gosh-wow that ultimately drives it. What Kessel seems to have done is draw attention to that explicitly by making fun of everything else (covertly). This is the best kind of meta-fiction, in my opinion: one that really needs no prior knowledge to enjoy or no intellectual leaning to appreciate. All it does need is an open mind and complete faith. Both are really hard to come by nowadays: the first isn't really in vogue (you're encouraged to have stylized prejudices) and as for the second, it's too scary a proposition for people who would much rather be comforted by predictable fare over and over again.
Instead, this story is best approached with the enduring faith of a twelve year old reading a pulp fiction SF short story in a magazine. He will be willing to accept the weirdest predicaments for the sake of the gosh-wow that ultimately drives it. What Kessel seems to have done is draw attention to that explicitly by making fun of everything else (covertly). This is the best kind of meta-fiction, in my opinion: one that really needs no prior knowledge to enjoy or no intellectual leaning to appreciate. All it does need is an open mind and complete faith. Both are really hard to come by nowadays: the first isn't really in vogue (you're encouraged to have stylized prejudices) and as for the second, it's too scary a proposition for people who would much rather be comforted by predictable fare over and over again.
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