"The Visible Man" (Scribner), by Chuck Klosterman: Ralph Ellison wouldn't know what to make of Chuck Klosterman's latest bit of trippy fiction. Is it sci-fi? Is it satire? Or is it just a new way for Klosterman to deliver his reliably caustic social and pop culture commentary?
Mostly the latter.
The setup is easy: Man calls a therapist's office in Austin, Texas, and wants to talk about "problematic things." At first we get a series of therapist notes (each ends with that all-too-familiar modern signature, "Sent from my BlackBerry Wireless Handheld") summarizing phone calls and then finally the man (referred to only as Y— throughout the book) makes an office visit.
Turns out Y— has discovered a way to disappear. He watches people when they think they're alone. It's both a voyeur's fantasy and a paranoid person's nightmare.
The meat of the book is a series of stories about the people Y— observed. The therapist pops in occasionally to advance the narrative (with a name like Victoria Vick, are we supposed to take her seriously?), but most are related in the first person. And many are laugh-out-loud funny. Y_'s take on the TV habits of people who spend a lot of time alone: "Lonely people love Law and Order, for whatever reason. They prefer the straight narratives. ... I'm pretty sure I've seen every episode of The Wire, but never in the proper sequence. I have no (expletive) clue what's supposed to be going on there."
Through Y_'s eyes we meet a woman with both an eating disorder and a compulsive need to burn calories; an older half-Mexican man who talks to himself and can sense Y_'s presence; and a support group for people with "competitive disorder." Each is peppered with moments for Klosterman (via Y_) to comment on the modern world. On Facebook: "It's designed for people who want to publicize their children without our consent." On wealthy people: "You can see the happiness on their face when they open the door and smell the Lemon Pledge. That smell reminds them they're rich." And on the younger generation's fondness for instant messaging: "In a hundred years, no one will be able to talk in public. Talking will be like blacksmithing."
Why does Y— do it? He calls it "science," and when challenged on that description, he rants for pages on the fallacy of science being something people use. "All technological advances immediately feel banal to whatever generation inherits their benefits. ... To a seven-year-old, a computer doesn't even qualify as technology. It's like a crowbar."
It all makes for a fairly engaging read. It's easy to suspend disbelief and imagine a man lurking in the corner of someone's living room, watching. It's amusing to read about what people do when they think no one is watching. Klosterman spins an interesting tale for most of the book. Readers can decide whether the ending serves the story, but they shouldn't deprive themselves of the enjoyable journey.