Pym

Mat Johnson's Pym is nothing less than an absolute masterpiece. It is easily among the top 5 books I have ever read in my life. Johnson continually shows a razor sharp wit in crafting his protagonist's consciousness -- at different moments, his observations had me heartily laughing out loud at his incisive or absurd insights, giggling at the silliness of the fantastical realm he finds himself in, and chuckling bittersweetly at the comically framed horrors that are sometimes described. A lot of the genius of this work inheres in Johnson's deep understanding of how absurdity can resonate profoundly with reality and his sensitivity to the poignancy of its actual presence in real life.

If you like literary heavyweights who write compelling plots in sophisticated and original ways, try this book. If some of your favorite comedy (in any medium) is dramedy, try this book. If you are sensitive to the presence of race in American life, try this book. If you appreciate the absurd, try this book. ( )

I debated adding a shelf labelled "Racism" because that is one of the recurring themes of this fascinating novel, one of three "sequels" to Poe's problematic "The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym." Johnson uses the frame of Poe's novel to structure his consideration of whiteness, racism and slavery. I found it thoughtful, relevant and insightful. ( )

Uh...okay? After a rapturous review from the AV Club, who can't always be trusted in their take on books, I'm willing to let this hang out on my TBR list for six months before realizing I've forgotten why I thought it sounded good and killing it.

Beginning of Chapter XVI:
"I have always loved quitting jobs. Whether because the job itself was repugnant or the people working at it with me, I have always held my right to quit my job as one of my most sacred privileges. An entire ritual surrounds this shedding of employment. First, there is the glorious moment when, after the unpleasantness of my position and my general unhappiness become overwhelmingly apparent to me, I say to myself (and I quote), 'Fuck this. I don't have to take this shit anymore. They think they can make me do what they want, but I'm out of here.' Ah, there it is, the almost orgasmic release I feel when I first make the profane declaration to myself, the feeling of reclaimed power coursing invisibly through me. But not just that: this singular moment, this coveted private knowledge is formed into a golden kernel and popped into existence again in my mind as a reaction to every unfortunate work-related moment I'm forced to endure before I make my destined departure. It's such a glorious thing, the harboring of this secret knowledge, that in itself it has kept me at many a job even longer than I had originally intended, because just knowing that I would soon be free was the most effective of panaceas. So much so that there were times when even though it was impossible for to quit I would say the same words to myself and mercifully delude my conscious mind that I could get the hell out of there if I wanted to.
"As I marched through the snow with nothing but more snow in front and behind for hours, I began to wonder if all of my quitting dramatics might have some larger meaning. That they might in fact be evidence of some form of race memory from my genetic past. How many of my slave ancestors used such gimmicks to preserve their own sanity? Spending years obsessing over the intended escape that only they knew of. The intricate planning that they shared with no one. I have thought of their escapes before, and was usually impressed by the bravery and fear that must have accompanied those breakouts. But I forgot to think about the glory of all the acts of flight that never happened. And how powerful their inaction probably was to the slaves who did not perform them.
"But me, I quit. I have quit very good jobs, and horrible ones. I have co-workers that I still miss, and co-workers that I regret never assaulting on the way out the door. And overall, I have enjoyed my resignations, enjoyed that last moment of walking away from each of the places that housed my misery, knowing that I would never have to return. I have walked down the street each time and bounced away, literally bounced in a skipping motion, knowing once more the effervescence of freedom.
"And always, immediately after my departure, then comes the next feeling, the next sentence, which is just as inevitable as the first. It goes, 'What the hell are you going to do now?' And thus begins my terror."
Kindle location 2987-3010

Edgar Allan Poe's only novel, THE NARRATIVE OF ARTHUR GORDON PYM, published in 1838, is an Antarctic adventure with a startling and puzzling ending. The book inspired at least 3 writers to create their own versions of Pym's quest for the South Pole. Each book is a fun read in its own very different way.
THE SPHINX OF THE ICE REALM by Jules Verne, 1897
AT THE MOUNTAINS OF MADNESS by H.P. Lovecraft, 1936
PYM: A NOVEL by Mat Johnson, 2011