|
VACATION
By JEREMY C. SHIPP (Raw Dog Screaming Press; 2007)
On the surface the story this deceptively
short novel tells is simple: in a heavily regulated future America,
Bernard Johnson, an educator fed up with his humdrum existence, embarks on
a government-sponsored vacation around the world.
He only makes it as far as India, though, before he’s kidnapped
by a band of terrorists in service of an outfit called the Garden, who
induct Bernard into their crusade against the Tics (Those in charge). The above may be a more-or-less adequate
summation of VACATION’S narrative, but woefully fails to convey the
book’s mind-rattling complexity. It’s
told in the form of a long letter by Bernard to his parents, filling them
in on why he never returned from his vacation.
From the start it’s clear this guy is a not-entirely-reliable
narrator in the way he glosses over the details of the vacation (he
renders his outdoor exploits in New Zealand in the form of a straight
list) yet devotes a fair amount of verbiage to imaginary convos with his
twin sister Aubrey, who died before Bernard was born.
Thus from the start a reality-hallucination
dichotomy is established that grows increasingly pronounced. Aubrey’s specter is a constant presence in Bernard’s
adventures, as is Blackbeard, a pirate, and Krow, a former student of
Bernard’s who’s undergone a sex change and is now a high-ranking
Garden operative. Highlights include a nightmarish walk through
a spectral forest of horrors, a “dead” character who proves otherwise,
and an involved subplot that’s later revealed to have been completely
imaginary. The latter fact
may be a signifier of the story’s true nature, but don’t expect any
shocking last minute twists; this is a labyrinthine entertainment through
which every reader will have to make his or her own way.
But one thing is certain: as a sophisticated exercise in reality
displacement, VACATION is about as solid as they come.
|