(See "Post 414," Thumb Drives and Oven Clocks)

Because I sometimes feel the need to listen to the hype, I'm reading Special Topics in Calamity Physics by Marisha Pessl right now, because that's what all the kids on the street are talking about these days, and I'm about two-fifths of the way through it, and it's pretty good, and occasionally is really funny, and has boldly colored characters in what feels like an interesting, if somewhat slow-moving, situation; I want to know what happens next, which is good. The book's narrated in a voice that is all about being a voice, whether or not that voice sees itself as being as present as it is. There's a certain undercurrent of absurdity to the narrative voice and the narrator herself which is oddly appealing, once you get attuned to it. In short, it's a fun enough read so far.

But I've got two problems with the book, both of which deal with narratorial tics, if you can call repeatedly and spontaneously slapping oneself in the face with a ripening clump of kelp while talking to the guy behind the counter at the post office a "tic." First, there's the constant reference to other texts. (Movies, books, whatever.) If I met this narrator in real life, and she talked that way to me in real life (which she wouldn't, she being a shy sort)? I'd cry a little on the inside. Because it makes me feel sort of dumb. It's terribly distracting and annoying. As is, my eyes are slowly learning to skim anything that appears after the word "see" between parentheses. I sort of wouldn't mind a bootleg Phantom Edit copy in which all the intertextual-references have already been Yossarianed for me.

And, second, and here I'm talking to you, Blue van Meer, narrator of the book, as if you were real, because sometimes you do feel real to me, which is yet another compliment inconveniently dropped into the middle of a complaint because oh I so do hate to complain when things are otherwise going well, because it makes me feel guilty as hell: Blue? Hon? Love? Oh precocious and vaguely Daria-esque maiden of my heart? Shut up about your father. Shut up. Shut. Up. Shut. Shut. Shut. Shut. Shut up. He's a great guy. I get it. We all get it. We got it a long time ago. You're an interesting creature, and you give me great hope when you see your own outline outside the shadow of that great, great man. But the thing about progress is it doesn't involve going backwards all the time. Break the hold he has on you. I'm pulling for you. There's a lot of pages left. Use them wisely.