Category: General News

Note: This review originally appeared in the now defunct DepravedPress.com

Jason M. Heim. Remember to Blink. Lulu.com, 2003-04. $15.99, paper, ISBN: 1-4116-1121-7.

The narrator of Jason M. Heim’s debut novel, Remember to Blink, suffers from what might best be described as a chronic case of boredom. Taking a cue from his mundane job in computer software maintenance at one of the world’s largest computer manufacturers, the unnamed narrator creates for himself an autopilot personality which he uses to handle tedious tasks while a separate, conscious part of his brain can ponder deeper ideas: “[…] whatever high concept my mind thinks is the flavor of the month. Things like evolution” (19). And evolution is one of the many trains this mind rides throughout the novel’s stream-of-consciousness styled rant, presented successfully, as a well crafted novel about a struggle for control and the resulting infinite burden this struggle carries.

What might initially seem like a cheap gimmick, the narrator claims early on in a faux forward that he is not an author, and later (but still very early in the novel) that he has done no research, outlining, or preparation, ultimately proves to be a necessary admission. The narrator claims at the top of page 2:

Given my mind’s tendency to wander, I can’t promise chronological continuity. And it may seem like it doesn’t make sense. For you, the beloved reader, these disjointed accounts of my life may seem to be rather random. But if you’re going to understand, you need to experience it. For me, this lack of continuity is a way of life.

This clever device—a therapeutic memoir—allows any inconsistencies and character flaws to be glossed over and forgotten. Fortunately, however, flaws and inconsistencies are few and the story holds together well, presenting itself in such a way that only this straightforward narrative style could justify.

Obvious comparisons to the contemporary trend of first-person, nihilistic, stream-of-conscious novels will be made. Unfortunately, the popularity of Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk and its more popular movie adaptation have made it hard to claim the schizophrenic narrator as an original device (RTB’s minimalist style and use of jargon-laden rants doesn’t help to broaden the distinction). But RTB handles the burden well. By subtly—and more importantly, consciously—creating the autopilot personality Heim’s narrator is able to introduce and develop the ulterior personality as an part of himself, rather than attempting to fool the reader into thinking it is a completely separate person.

Furthering the success of this distinction Heim transitions seamlessly early in the novel from the autopilot as a concept to the autopilot as a believable and effective character trait. Step back and hear of this novel from a friend and you would understandably doubt this sort of effective execution, but read the damn thing and you’ll see that it works.

RTB is a theme-driven novel, using the characters’ mind-space to explore these themes. Think the way most contemporary literature commentaries tend to do. Any of Palahniuk’s earlier works are arguably platforms to express the author’s social discontent. Bret Easton Ellis’s American Psycho is similar in this regard; sacrificing deep character development for social observation. Heim goes this route, exploring the motif of control as a way to steer evolution. But the novel tends to suffer from its own exploration of tedium as the ultimate destructor. Page after page of cleverly twisted phrases designed to appear deep can wear at a reader’s mind. The rants can be very insightful—especially toward the end of the novel when the narrator’s newly discovered philosophy of Christianity is skillfully incorporated into his already robust set of beliefs—but before the reader really has time to absorb the moments of insight he is shoved into another rant filled with more clever phrases—sometimes logically related; sometimes not. But this is all, as the narrator states early on, a way to “[…] figure out how I got here” (2). And the patient reader willing to accept this will be greatly rewarded by the satisfying climax and unconventional denouement (hint: when you think you’ve found a plot hole in chronology, you haven’t).

Despite a few jarring choices in narrative style, Remember to Blink succeeds as a probing literary novel with a lot to say and the right mouth to say it. One would hope that Jason M. Heim has more to say and won’t make us wait long to hear it.

Midnight finds us rolling through the waves of the old Double Drive In, the gravel crunching under our tires, the Monte Carlo’s trunk bottoming out like it used to, and all the broken glass, beer caps, and bullet casings now sparkle like stars.

From “Trauma Plate” as included in Emporium

Emporium taught me more about short story craft than most textbooks dedicated entirely to the topic. Adam Johnson has what some may call a natural story-telling ability, and I’d agree for the most part, but nature, I suspect, takes a person only so far, and Emporium exists as such a perfect specimen of contemporary fiction that I would hesitate to believe we as human beings have this innate level of ability.

Yes, he has a flair for language. Yes, he can craft a compelling storyline. But what truly makes Adam Johnson endearing is his obvious knowledge of the craft. He has – and I would say this about very few people – a Richard Russo-ian ability for story.

I read somewhere that Adam Johnson actually enrolled in his first university level fiction class by accident (he incorrectly transcribed a class number when enrolling, trying to fish for an easy A by taking a poetry class). Proof that accidents are God’s little way of being a hilarious son of a bitch.

Were you ever drinking one night and thought, “I would like to kill myself, but I just don’t have a good reason. I wish my daughter would get hit by a car or I was a ground troop in The Iraqi War so people would say after I did it, ‘He had his reasons.”

From “Civilization” as included in The Condemned

Keep Going. When you land in a passage about a pregnant woman snorting cocaine and eating pussy, keep going. When you get halfway through a scene involving load blowing and load swallowing, keep going. Beauty exists at the end. And it is the rare beauty that informs everything prior.

Noah Cicero has a way of bringing the most seemingly asinine and gratuitous scenes in to sharp focus with just a single paragraph or sentence. Take for instance the story “Gratuitous Kink The Immaculate Cherry Popping,” in which a long list of the protagonist’s sexual exploits is capped with the passage: “In most meaningless sex acts only one of the people has the motivation for a good time. Most of the time one person needs a psychological need fulfilled.” In one direct punch Cicero justifies the assumed gratuity, informs the protagonist, and opens theme all while keeping the momentum strong. In most hands Cicero’s subject matter would be perverse (Bizarro anyone?). In Cicero’s hands the perverse is simply a method for developing great characters.

He came close enough to her to see the webbed stresses on the surface of her eye spreading out from the minute white pocks of crushed glass. He wondered how it felt for her to have the roughness of the glass scratching against the insides of her eyelid, damaging it.

From “Eye” as included in Altmann’s Tongue

If you haven’t read anything by Brian Evenson then you haven’t seen the true capabilities of modern literature. Every line in Altmann’s Tongue simultaneously provokes, disgusts, and intrigues. And though much of the story collection might seem hard to comprehend at first a reader feels assured that Evenson leads a worthy journey. Do I know what the words “atumescence” or “transubstantiation” mean? I could venture a guess, but complete understanding is not what one seeks when reading Evenson. It’s about the journey, the path, and also about sucking a false eyeball out of a girl’s head (read “Eye”).

After reading this collection one might understand why the Mormon church excommunicated Evenson based primarily, if not entirely, on the content of Altmann’s Tongue. Or you might be like me and not quite understand the church’s action. But ultimately I thank the church for their decision. I wonder if Evenson would have been able to continue writing what he writes if supported by the Mormon religion. Evenson reads like pen without religion, going where it pleases no matter the hand steering it.