I have it in my hand, sitting, as the Earth clings to me with fear. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, I glean from the jacket. His name is Dave Eggers, it's about him. My first few movements, callow trepid steps, the peek under book's cover, the eyes which widen at the sight; and it's coming. Nighttime, darkness and I'm flicking through it. While fireflies, they'd skip across the surface of each turning page; illuminate lines for me. Then a mighty gale, it comes to sweep us away, me and my hardbound friend. I watch on helplessly as pages whoosh by, turning vigorously, and I have to hold onto my hat and scarf so that they won't fly away. My eyes, my dazzling dancing eyes, dashing madly, back and forward, left to right then miraculously back at left again, trying to keep up. Until, as sudden as it had started, the wind dies, and all but a single page remains. All but an inky half filled page – evaporating! Line by line, letter by letter, going, going, oh it's gone! ...(Confess confess, to nonsense.)
I am not an avid reader. Last year I read one book. The year prior to that: none. This year, I am handed a hardcover by someone dear - a hefty, four hundred page tome - and I set about reading it with fears of half-finishing. Within a week fears vanish...
Awash with humor, poignancy, gimmickry, motley bindings of adjective effortlessness and ever growing self-referentiality: Eggers' memoir, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, indeed, bears no misnomer. It is steeped in detail: the title could, alone, be kept afloat simply by weight of ideas. And for the most part, the experimentation is not only impressive, it is genius, genre-breaking prose.
Within the first few pages, Eggers has already modestly, or in some cases, honestly, outlined pages and chapters not worth reading, has told us that some of the events of the book have been fictionalized or chronologically rearranged (being his right as an American), and has shared disapproval over our abandonment of Pluto: "[the author] wishes, on the basis of his own casual research and faith, to reassert Pluto's planethood. Why did we do this to Pluto? We had it good with Pluto."
The story moves quickly. For all the tragic elements here: the sudden deaths of loved ones, the raising of a younger brother, and solipsistic struggle; the memoir is, more often than not, blithe, irreverent, and wonderfully truthful. What Eggers deems "The Painfully, Endlessly, Self-Conscious Book Aspect", that being, sections of the book in which he is all too aware it is being read, is all too conscious of what the reader is thinking, is not accustomed to any 'fourth wall', are simply sublime. Great artistic liberties are taken, characters, as it were, break character, igniting otherwise common exchanges. Eggers' device is gratuitous, often revelatory: at one instance, cheekily concluding that those who are not self-obsessed, that do not find themselves interesting enough to obsess over, mustn’t be very interesting people.
And as the book culminates through its final manic-depressive gasps, we see that for all Eggers' self-destructive magic, it is his relationship with younger brother Toph that provides grounding for his most compelling emotional clinches. It's an adventure through a majestic and surreal, sun-drenched, and utterly unadulterated youth. A place where time shrinks and stretches, where the Californian shoreline extends forever, where the worth of an apartment is dictated solely by its containing stretches of polished floorboard – area fit for sliding across whilst wearing woolen socks.
In shorts, there's a lot to like about this book. In pants (terrible!), I probably should have said that to begin with. That probably would have been a lot less painful for the both of us. In fact, you're probably very annoyed with me, especially if you had bothered to read this far. Will redemption be granted if I offer gifts? And what if said gifts aren't tangible?
I grant you (and this book) 4/5 ducks! Quack! (Don't eat them)... (Seriously, don't!!)
Oh nice, Patrick! Impressively verbose as per usual. I give your writing skills 5/5 sparkling vampires
Thanks Chau! Sorry I wrote so much... I give your writing skills 6/5 sparkly vampires (assuming sparkly vampires are good things).
LOL Pat! at your dazzling dancing eyes!
if you found it hard reading curious incident but easy with this... then this MUST be super good!
hrmm!!
It was good! Hooks you in right from the start :)
What are you, Shakespeare's descendant?? LOL!
I understood a couple of words and the rest was just Vietnamese to me...(I can't read Vietnamese by the way!). I'll just stick to reading cereal boxes!
Great review buddy poo, from what I could understand! Keep up the smarty pants!
lol, awesome review! but...dazzling dancing eyes? LOL!