|
In what
is either a stroke of genius or a feeble act of cynicism,
Boring Boring Boring Boring Boring Boring Boring wears
its bar code on the front cover. As with everything in Zach
Plague's debut novel, from the writing to the typefaces to
the page design and—who knows—maybe even the binding
glue, the bar code becomes a sly critique of the art world,
books, consumer culture, and the agony of youth. Or maybe
there just wasn't enough room on the back cover.
The plot,
which is almost superfluous to the book, centers on a tortured
young artist, Ollister, and his ex-girlfriend, Adelaide, who
rally an underground resistance to a local arts kingpin called
the Platypus. Characters in the novel are variously rich,
drugged out, lusty, depressed, brilliant, or jaded. All of
them are snide rebels who perpetrate awful works of experimental
art, and all of them are exactly 19 years old. But Boring
Boring Boring Boring Boring Boring Boring doesn't explore
what goes on in their hearts and minds. It just eviscerates
them.
The black
humor is so merciless and unblinking that it's hard to read
much of the novel at once. For example, when an art student
named Nick, with "a black faux-hawkish haircut and pencil
thin pubescent mustache," tries to explain his latest work
to the class, he goes on for almost a page of cringe-inducing
babble. Here is a mere fraction of the text:
"I thought that would be pretty funny, if it was called
'All I Want to Do Today is Fuck.' Basically, uh, OK, basically,
I'm, uh, trying to do a lot of different things on this
one. I think mainly, uh, OK, so you have the naked girl
here OK, right? And she's like a real traditional, like,
porn-style figure […] She's kind of, like, irresistible,
and at the same time, I'm really trying to evoke, you
know, like it's fuckin', uh, uh, I want to make it erotic,
like, uh, like this whole no head thing. OK, she's like
a sex object, like, you know? Do you get it?"
Cheap
attacks on fictional rich kids can't sustain a novel for 250
pages. And for Zach Plague, they don't have to. A graphic
designer, he fills his book with banner headings, handwriting
samples, decorative sparrows, black-and-white collages, and
other visual flourishes. Bold and italics are used to emphasize
particularly weighty phrases, just like in MAD magazine.
Characters' names appear in specific, unique typefaces, so
their entrances ring out like theme songs. With an arch tone
and a gothic sensibility to rival Lemony Snicket's, these
features elevate the book above its bitter premise.
Ultimately,
the message of the Boring Boring Boring Boring Boring Boring
Boring is that rich art students are evil and graphic
design is mildly entertaining. Plague overloads on smug characters,
grim irony, and outrageous deadpan. If his book were a drink,
it would taste like black licorice, feel like syrup, and need
to be chased with plenty of water. He's on to something—an
oozing dark comedy, perhaps, or a lopsided social commentary.
But all these tricks and provocations come at the expense
of a balanced narrative and a satisfying read.
(October,
2008)
|
