Well, what to say about
this book. The nameless narrator is a sick man and we get to see him slowly
descend into madness. He transforms from a hapless OCD person into a
narcissistic lunatic who will kill to keep the “game” going (234). It’s not
surprising he doesn’t care about the cats – by this time we see that he’s a
madman who needs these reenactments like a drug, an opioid to help him feel
that tingle so he knows he’s alive, authentic. But what’s worse is that Naz
continues to supply cats even though he questions the morality. Yet he still
does it because money buys everything – even loads of cats destined to become
cat pizza. From there it’s not a huge leap to buying people destined to become
people pizza.
The narrator’s existential
search is painfully detailed in minimalist language. There are many references
to the narrator’s desire to feel that tingle, which starts when he asks for
spare change. He loves that rush from doing something he isn’t supposed to do
and from there he wants to reenact reality which was actually never reality
because much of the initial “experiences” were from inside his head. So he’s
making inauthentic experiences into authentic so he can feel authentic.
From the start everything
smells like cordite, a slow-burning modern substitute for gun powder. That was
certainly a clue that we were headed, inexorably and slowly, for a major
explosion. In the end everything does explode – bodies, planes, and the mind.
Of the many questions left lingering, one that sticks in my mind is: Who bought
the bullets and loaded the guns? It must be Naz because the crazy dude can’t do
anything. It speaks volumes about Naz and the seductive power of money.
The insanity heats up in
chapter 8:
Page 160: He spends hours
and hours analyzing the properties of the oil spot.
Page 161: He practices the
shirt maneuver for an entire day and then with the building in the “on” mode.
Page 162: The poor liver
lady gets no rest.
Page 164: He has the
motorbike dude kneel on the swing. Now he’s pushing the model swing at the same
time. Very creepy. Norman Bates-type creepy.
Page 176: I suppose the
kids need employment but this is really nuts. Naz hesitates but he does it.
Again. And another hockey mask in the scene. It’s a horror story. A scene from
the Twilight Zone, a passel of tyre zombies, a Sisyphean task, hell.
Page 178: Hilarious but
sick. Crazy person says the gushing of the liquid onto the driver and the
amount of stain on the boy’s clothes weren’t quite right but notes that it was okay
because it was “minor.”
Page 186: He’s studying
forensics. He can’t wait for the reenactment: “I think I’d have gone mad
otherwise…” Hmmmm…
Page 188: He’s mentioning
a blimp. Would he…?
Page 189: Uh oh. Guns.
Page 199: He thinks he’s
an enlightened being.
Page 207: He would have
tried out the Uzi but “didn’t want to get all self-indulgent.”
Page 224: He wants the
concierge to do nothing but do it slower, to think slower, and he believes he
will be able to know that.
Page 220: We learn that lab
animals will seek trauma to get a fix from the body’s opioids. Interesting.
Page 225: Crazy and funny
at the same time: He’s too bored to do it slowly.
Page 228: We’re going
military now with a “deserted camp” and “massing troops of darkness”; now the
sun is not cooperating.
Page 232: Now he wants to
reenact a reenacted moment.
Page 233-308. We learn
that he feels an orgasmic tingle during the real reenactment in the bank with
the real deaths (293). It’s all downhill from here. Literally. That figure 8 is
also the symbol for infinity. He wants to see everything from above, the models
and the reenactments, as if he were a god. His money gives him that power to create life experiences and to end lives as well. And with the palms facing up, well that's a Jesus reference, it seems to me.
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