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Thinking
of God as an atheist is like thinking of a novelist who doesn't
believe in novels.
So perhaps
it's fitting that N. Nosirrah's highly amusing and deeply
thoughtful God is an Atheist is a novella. Specifically,
it's "a novella for those who have run out of time."
"This
is a story without plot, characters, structure, or obvious
purpose," Nosirrah writes. "If a thousand monkeys typing endlessly
would eventually produce all the great works of literature,
then this is their first draft."
Nosirrah
isn't kidding when he says there's no plot. At the start of
the book, Nosirrah nearly runs God over as He is crossing
the street. As way of apology, Nosirrah takes God to a coffeeshop
and they talk, although it's as much of a transcendental encounter
as a conversation. Nosirrah calls it "magical existentialism."
In the exchange, God admits He is an atheist.
The novella
is Nosirrah's account of the encounter, which is really just
a flimsy—but very cleverly executed—excuse for the
author to talk about big-picture concepts like belief and
being, and he does so with a court jester's demeanor. The
result is a text that reads like the caffeinated love-child
of flip stream-of-consciousness and thoughtful wit, raised
by a lonely mountaintop guru starved for human contact.
Nosirrah
babbles along merrily, with almost incessant, indomitable
charm. Hints of cynicism creep in, but Nosirrah always pulls
back from the brink with a good-natured shoulder shrug or,
better yet, a smart-ass remark.
For example,
he writes: "We decided that our job is to live in the material
world, but ultimately to transcend it and realize our connection
to God. Once we got that all set up and agreed that the world
was like that, then we got down to the real business of fighting
each other over our control of resources in the material world
and our beliefs about God."
The book
is not intended as a religious or an anti-religious diatribe.
There's plenty to offend believers and nonbelievers alike.
But there's also plenty of thoughtful fodder about the nature
of belief itself. There's also, running as an undercurrent,
a sincere appeal to readers to think about what God means
to them.
"God
speaks in the softest of tones and the harshest of manners.
As the all and everything of the universe, He speaks in every
form. That's the rub," Nosirrah says. "If He would just show
up Hollywood style, speak in a Charlton Heston voice, we would
find it easy to listen. But He shows up as the constant flow
of life itself, in every piece, every quality, in the whole
range from ecstasy to calamity. We generally only listen to
the part we like, and don't want to hear the part we don't
like."
The book
never gets heavier than that. It's too hipster, too manic,
and too self-aware to get too deep; but the book also gives
off enough vibes to suggest that this is, indeed, deep stuff
if the reader slows down long enough to really dive in for
him or herself.
In the
meantime, Nosirrah barrels along, pummeling the reader with
witty banter, pop culture references, and classical philosophy
gussied up as slapstick (picture an apoplectic Immanuel Kant
getting red-faced and bug-eyed). God never takes Himself too
seriously—and he's far from being all-knowing and all-powerful,
He can't even place Mother Theresa, although He says He'll
try and Google the name when He gets home.
God
is an Atheist is a quick yet provocative read—although
whether it provokes thought, anger, or mere annoyance will
depend. Nosirrah is either irresistibly engaging or in dire
need of Ritalin, but his whirling dervish style is distinctive
and smart. He offers much to think about and much to laugh
about.
(July
2008)
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