2010 Reading List #6: JPod by Douglas Coupland
I am only up to 6 books because I started dipping into other books briefly--revisiting some works I enjoyed in the past, but not working all the way through them (a book about China, Ronald Wright's A Short History of Progress, etc. etc.
While I was sick I picked up JPod, Darrin's plane book for our visit to my in-laws at Christmas. I read some of it leaning on his shoulder on the plane, feeling him chuckle from time to time. It IS a clever book; we all know Coupland doesn't have to worry about literary convention. His story is full-on geek narrative: six employees of a game design company in Vancouver have various adventures and find interesting ways to maintain their sanity on the outer edges of corporate haze. The book is peppered with pages that might be filled, for example, with short snippets of what might be conversations, punchlines of jokes, messages we see on ATM screens, customer satisfaction surveys, safety signs, etc. They are a cheeky acknowledgment of the myriad ways the world is talking to you, ALL THE FREAKING TIME.
Another page consists of a list of successive versions of a file, iin large font. Why? Who knows? It's Douglas Coupland, he's playing with words and communication. You can't expect these funny pages sprinkled throughout the book to make perfect sense, but they contribute to the sense of being bombarded with commands, requests, suggestions, comments, etc. And of course his characters make all kinds of satisfying observations about life at the intersection of modern technology, personality, and morality.
One page says nothing but
"ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles," ... for an entire page.
For some reason, I love this.
The members of the section of the gaming company known as JPod are each their own special kind of obsessive-compulsive or mildly autistic. They spontaneously do things like write marriage proposals to Ronald McDonald, look for the appearance of their phone numbers in the digits of pi (without using a search program).
In the middle of this trashy sea of high-speed communication, pop culture, and varying levels of job dissatisfaction, they're coping with an assortment of bizarre family members and something like the Chinese mob. I'm not even sure I should try to explain how this works. The fact that one page says nothing but "ramen noodles" should tell you whether you would like this book or not.
There are wonderful quotations all through the book. A few samples:
"Everyone looked awkward, as if Angela Lansbury's aging collie dog had noiselessly passed wind." p. 222
"Years ago I read in a psychology book about this experiment in which people were asked to spit into a saucer and then drink back the spit--still warm from their mouths. Most people couldn't do it, because the moment spit leaves your body, it's not you any more. That's what it's like seeing yourself on TV--it's like drinking your own spit. It's not nice." p. 222
Someone says of a violent video game, "It's the best. It allows me to park my evil in one place so I can be a better person in the real world." p. 292
Considering the content of this book, maybe I should not be surprised that Coupland is also the author of a book called All Families Are Psychotic (and maybe I should check it out).
While I was sick I picked up JPod, Darrin's plane book for our visit to my in-laws at Christmas. I read some of it leaning on his shoulder on the plane, feeling him chuckle from time to time. It IS a clever book; we all know Coupland doesn't have to worry about literary convention. His story is full-on geek narrative: six employees of a game design company in Vancouver have various adventures and find interesting ways to maintain their sanity on the outer edges of corporate haze. The book is peppered with pages that might be filled, for example, with short snippets of what might be conversations, punchlines of jokes, messages we see on ATM screens, customer satisfaction surveys, safety signs, etc. They are a cheeky acknowledgment of the myriad ways the world is talking to you, ALL THE FREAKING TIME.
Another page consists of a list of successive versions of a file, iin large font. Why? Who knows? It's Douglas Coupland, he's playing with words and communication. You can't expect these funny pages sprinkled throughout the book to make perfect sense, but they contribute to the sense of being bombarded with commands, requests, suggestions, comments, etc. And of course his characters make all kinds of satisfying observations about life at the intersection of modern technology, personality, and morality.
One page says nothing but
"ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles, ramen noodles," ... for an entire page.
For some reason, I love this.
The members of the section of the gaming company known as JPod are each their own special kind of obsessive-compulsive or mildly autistic. They spontaneously do things like write marriage proposals to Ronald McDonald, look for the appearance of their phone numbers in the digits of pi (without using a search program).
In the middle of this trashy sea of high-speed communication, pop culture, and varying levels of job dissatisfaction, they're coping with an assortment of bizarre family members and something like the Chinese mob. I'm not even sure I should try to explain how this works. The fact that one page says nothing but "ramen noodles" should tell you whether you would like this book or not.
There are wonderful quotations all through the book. A few samples:
"Everyone looked awkward, as if Angela Lansbury's aging collie dog had noiselessly passed wind." p. 222
"Years ago I read in a psychology book about this experiment in which people were asked to spit into a saucer and then drink back the spit--still warm from their mouths. Most people couldn't do it, because the moment spit leaves your body, it's not you any more. That's what it's like seeing yourself on TV--it's like drinking your own spit. It's not nice." p. 222
Someone says of a violent video game, "It's the best. It allows me to park my evil in one place so I can be a better person in the real world." p. 292
Considering the content of this book, maybe I should not be surprised that Coupland is also the author of a book called All Families Are Psychotic (and maybe I should check it out).