Tuesday, December 26, 2017

What the Hell Did I Just Read by David Wong

Continuing on the cosmic horror kick is What the Hell Did I Just Read, which doubles as both an effective title as well as a pithy summary of most people's reactions, including my own.  This, the third entry in the John Dies at the End series, is sublime and infuriating in about equal measure.  I think that's intentional.

The second entry in this series, This Book is Full of Spiders: Seriously, Dude, Don't Touch It, was one of my favorite books of 2012.  I was worried that this one wouldn't live up to that, and frankly I'm still thinking about it.  I can say that I didn't enjoy this one nearly as much as Spiders but on an objective level I don't know if I can say it isn't as good.  We revisit our "heroes" John and David as they return older and . . . older.  This one also focuses a lot more on Amy, still dating David.

If you're not familiar with Wong's work on this series, it's a dizzying combination.  Quite a bit of all of these novels focuses on really lowbrow toilet humor, mostly on the part of David and John.  While you're looking at that, Wong manages to sneak in some fairly trenchant social analysis and commentary.  And then when you think you know where things are going, he blindsides you with all sorts of legitimately scary and incredibly fucked-up shit.  I first noted these abrupt shifts in tone in the original John Dies novel, and Wong's continued to hone them as a signature style.  I was almost aghast at how totally vile and awful some of the situations get in this novel, almost thinking that the narrative hadn't earned the right to invoke those sorts of images.  But upon reflection, I began to consider this may be the whole point.

After all, this is billed as a cosmic horror novel.  The nature of cosmic horror is that it's not malevolent by any human understanding, it's just that it's completely indifferent to humanity.  People often make fun of Lovecraft's protagonists going mad at the drop of the hat, but forget that what they'd realized is that there was no malice but also no pity on the part of the vast forces beyond Earth.

So anyway, let's look at Dave and John.  They're high school graduates, and they're pretty smart.  But they didn't pursue any formal education and they have only spotty employment.  David in particular hasn't been able to find any work since the video store he used to manage shut down, and the only reason he has food and a place to stay is because Amy works at a call center for $9 an hour.  David drinks too much, and John does everything too much.  They hunt monsters, but the only reason they can see through the veil of reality is because they do a bunch of drugs.  This gig also doesn't pay very well.  Even Amy, who is more sensible and grounded, takes a lot of pain medication, subsists on a diet mostly composed of sugar and caffeine, and doesn't sleep so she can play her MMORPGs.

I don't know if Wong read The Magicians trilogy by Lev Grossman or not but I was thinking that these series are considering the same sorts of issues from wildly different perspectives.  Quentin Coldwater is also a depressive malcontent, but when his life doesn't meet up to his expectations he manages to fall upwards into a sinecure so he can wallow in his misery in comfort.  This is the difference a college education and social status makes, I guess.  There's not really that much between their mental states, but society has written David off entirely and as of this one he's basically writing himself off, as well.  Sure, there are dimension-hopping alien monsters to contend with, but the slow grind into oblivion that's claiming this whole Midwestern town is just as bad if not worse.

As for the main action, what's to say?  There's some missing children involved.  But remember that some of the antagonists in these books can mess with you past all understanding.  Case in point: Amy's missing a hand from an accident she was in as a child.  Except that she had two hands in the second book until she was touched by one of these extradimensional horrors, at which point not only did she lose the hand but she had always been missing a hand.  So things can not only change, but change to the point that you can't remember it being any different, and if you have any expectations that you know what's going on, prepare to set them aside.  Wong doesn't play fair, John exaggerates, David omits some important facts, and all three narrators occasionally outright lie.

Again, it's not for the squeamish.  Aside from depictions of horrible atrocities to every sort of sympathetic persona imaginable, there's body horror, relationship horror, poverty horror and a simulacrum of a Korean porn star made of insects.  And yet despite all that it manages to end up on a note of hope.  Ish.  Hope-ish.  Happy 2018.

No comments:

Post a Comment