I
hope everyone has been enjoying their summers so far. 32 Days Left!
I’ve
just finished reading A Heartbreaking
Work of Staggering Genius, Dave Eggers’ memoir. A very brief synopsis: it
documents the life of the author (twenties?) after and as both his parents pass
away, and he cares for his younger brother (eleven) and deals with the tragedy.
While the content of the book is “staggering” by itself, what really stood out to
me was the author’s prose. It greatly impacted my view of writing, and my understanding of what constitutes
telling a story. This blog post will attempt to outline what it was that made
this not a book, but an experience.
The
first thing that set it apart from others was its structure, or rather the lack
thereof. It was very ‘anything goes’, where one sentence could be half a page
long, and where two different and unrelated narratives could be told at the
same time. It also paid little attention to grammatical structure, with
instances where words were just stuck together instead of forming ‘proper’
sentences. All this flowed together like thought processes, which the reader
can identify with – especially as the abstract phrases conjure up feelings that
are more universal than the specific events that triggered them.
Working
together with the very personal structure of the novel is how self-conscious it
is. There are times when characters lapse into monologues that are obviously
false – questioning the purpose of the memoir and insisting on the selfish
motives of the author for focusing on the tragedies around him to ‘add drama to
his own life’. As the reader, the times when the book questioned itself brought
me back to the reality of what I was reading and engaged me to question it.
While this is a very useful device, it can become annoying if used too often
and without skill.
In
A.H.W.O.S.G., however, the self-consciousness never became problematic as it
was balanced with a level of honesty that was almost painful to watch. The book
was not pretentious at all, and attempts at being ‘cool’ or being anything were
shot down by the self-conscious side of it. This absence of any self-labeling
within the story makes the novel even more personal and vulnerable, as it
laughs at itself first to defend against any potential criticisms or other
people lampooning it. All hatred, jealousy, and ulterior motives of the writer
are undisguised.
Earlier
this year, we discussed ‘standard English’ and the fact that it does not really
exist. This book fits this sentiment perfectly – not only is proper grammar
abandoned at times, Eggers also uses lists, charts, and drawings to communicate
his message. What is interesting is that his message is always delivered, and
that oftentimes it is in the least organized parts that the message is the
clearest. This is perhaps aided by
repeated swear words, which also contribute to the novel seeming like someone’s
inner dialogue.
In
conclusion, all these factors work together to create a book that makes you
feel like you are sitting in Dave Eggers’ head, sifting through his past
experiences and watching as he processes and deals with what life has given and
is giving him. Watching another human’s thoughts (the part where we usually
feel most alone) is at once comforting in its familiarity, but at the same time
scary in the realization that we are not as special as we think we are. I’d
definitely recommend this book, although beware – there may be some themes that
people may be uncomfortable with. As mentioned before, it is very honest, and
nothing is hidden from the reader’s view.
Have
a great summer! J
