Zero K - Don DeLillo

 

It might be that I've read way too many of DeLillo's books, or it might simply be that, having just had my second child, I am not quite ready for anything too deep, but Zero K didn't quite do it for me. 

I understand why plenty of critics found this to be a fine book, but I couldn't bring myself to love it. The scientific/futuristic dynamics are not particularly exciting for me (then again, he probably is miles ahead of everyone and foreseeing things like he did with Cosmopolis) and the bodies with severed cryogenically heads just remind me of Futurama...

Like all of DeLillo's books, I'm really glad I've read it. And, like most of his books since Underworld, it is a quick read (but not a light one by any means!).

Falling Man - Don DeLillo

I wonder whether all of Don DeLillo's books get remaindered within 24 hours. Seriously, there's always at least two of his novels at Fopp. Not that I'm complaining though, as ultimately I tend to like most (if not all) of them. 

Falling Man is a typical DeLillo book, with typical troubled characters victims of traumatic events (in this case, 9/11) and struggling to live their lives as the parameters around them are shifting. 

What was good was the idea of the artist (the Falling Man of the title), the fictionalized accounts of the moment in which the planes hit the towers as seen from the inside, and the children looking up at the sky in search of the mysterious "Bill Lawton". 

What was possibly not so good was the bizarre link (through a suitcase) between the two survivors. 

And what was ultimately a bad sign for the book is that, despite having finished it only a couple of weeks ago, I have already forgotten most of it. 

Cosmopolis – Don DeLillo

Yet another book from what is essentially an unending stock of novels that I either got for close to nothing from Fopp or actually for nothing at the good old Books for Free shop.

I loved DeLillo’s White Noise, had mixed feelings about Underworld, and saw Cosmopolis as a “DeLillo meets absurdist Paul Auster, meets Joyce, meets Minority Report” kind of pastiche. There is clearly nothing wrong with any of those four ingredients, but this mix just doesn’t work for me.

The novel, despite its shortness, ends up being crammed with ideas that are potentially interesting but surely overwhelming, and Eric’s frequent meetings with his wife are just too dreamlike for me (so much so that I was afraid they would turn into something like the bathroom scene in The Shining). There is also too much death around (including that of his bodyguard which is, honestly, absolutely gratuitous).

This is not to say that the novel is uninspiring – there are plenty of interesting points raised about our expectations from society and about human nature (why does Eric ultimately hope that the rap star he idolizes died in a gunfight and not of a common heart attack? Why does he confront Benno Levin when he tries to kill him instead of running away from him?) – but it’s just, well, a bit much (ado about nothing). 

White Noise – Don DeLillo

As many have probably guessed by now, my favourite literary theme in my late teens and early 20s was anti-Fascism, that on my late 20s (probably owing to a process of – relative – de-politicization) has been American suburban life, and White Noise might be the greatest book on the topic that I’ve read so far.

I don’t know why, but reading about the miseries of the American middle-class somehow makes me happy (hysterically happy at times – maybe it’s some kind of disorder...). In addition to that, Jack, the main character, is a fairly successful historian lacking the most basic skill needed in his trade: he can’t speak the language of the country his research is focused upon (I picked my Ph.D. topic also because it was the one time in my life in an English-speaking country in which I could have used my language skills, and I found Jack’s issue absolutely hilarious).

White Noise is just an excellent work from start to finish, constantly exploring new issues with a clinic and cynical eye: first we have a clear picture of the daily lives of the characters and their idiosyncrasies, then we move on to a wonderful discussion on life and its instability (turns out we all have to die, whether we have been exposed to an “airborne toxic event” or not – something really rather banal but that is expressed so wonderfully in the novel) to finish with great pages on our steadfast faith in medications of all kinds and the actual value of revenge. Just priceless.

Underworld – Don DeLillo

A beautiful short-story (the first chapter) followed by an excessively lengthy book about problems I struggle to relate to. I expected not to be able to appreciate the book because of my lack of understanding of baseball, but I was delighted to read about the “Shot Heard ‘Round the World”.

I wasn’t as delighted, however, to read about the troubles of Nick Shay. Probably that’s because my father never walked out on me and my mom. Probably that’s because I have a wonderful life. If those things mean not being able to appreciate this undeniably epic (but not necessarily great) novel, so be it.