Arthur Dent is in a pickle. His house is being knocked down to make way for a bypass. In fact, his entire planet is being destroyed to make way for a bypass. And unlike the Earth’s construction workers, the Vogons, who have been charged with the annihilation of Earth, don’t care if you lie in front of their destruction vehicles. Fortunately, Arthur has made a friend of Ford Prefect, a man who, unbeknownst to him, is not human, but a hitchhiker from another planet. And fortunately for the both of them, the Vogons have employed on their ships creatures that are not especially fond of them. All too soon, Arthur and Ford find themselves on the Heart of Gold with the ex-president of the galaxy Zaphod Beeblebrox and Earthling Trillian in what may be the strangest adventure of their lives.
It was upon reading this book for the nth time that I realized that I love British humor, especially when it comes to the absurd. I could say that the sheer complexities of what seems to be simple hilarity are the aspects which primarily draw me in and proceed to keep me reading.
Or I could say that I was laughing too much to care.
Both, in a way, are true. Adams’ brand of humor, while absurd, appears simple. His ability to suspend belief is great; more often than not, I missed the punchline in his logical narrative, only to get it much later. I’ve had people tell me that affecting such British humor is easy, simple even. I don’t see how; every joke, every parallel that Adams sets up is so absurdly logical it has to be purposeful. His humor is filled with nuances of every kind, ranging from the serious to the ridiculous.
The result is a novel that is very difficult to generalize upon. What are its themes? Life? The universe? Everything? What are its important concepts or motifs? The significance of the number forty-two? Certainly the parallels with reality are something to think about, but even those are far too numerous to choose one.
So instead of focusing on the usual, let us lend our minds to the logical processes of the first book in the Hitchhiker’s Trilogy. Because that’s exactly what it is: logical.
When reading The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, everything makes sense. It makes so much sense, in fact, that one is liable to miss the jokes that are right in front of them. That in itself is the genius of Douglas Adams’ work; everything is so perfectly logical and straightforward that the jokes are made so complex by their complete absurdity. This might be the one time when the “why” is put in the back of the mind; who cares about that when the “what” appears to justify itself?
I could go on, but to avoid spoilers and save everyone a few hours, I will simply say this: while I enjoyed this book, not everyone would. The complexities behind the humor may be a bit much for some people, and those who aren’t willing to just accept the bizarreness might find this book very strange, but utterly un-enjoyable because of it. That doesn’t mean I don’t recommend it. It just means that not all books are for everyone, and the dryness of British humor, especially in this case, can be disliked because of the never-ending feeling that someone is just pulling your leg.
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Notes:
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy was Douglas Adams’ debut novel, and is the first book in the Hitchhiker's Trilogy. It was first published in 1979 by Serious Productions. The version I read was paperback, published in 2005 by Del Ray Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House.
Adult comedial science fiction, 216 pages (309 pages including Afterword and Appendices), omniscient third person point of view
Topics: The meaning of life, reality (numerous parallels), absurdism
Publisher’s age recommendation: N/A
Warnings: Brief but strong innuendo. Some non-involved violence. Indirect descriptions of depression. Talk of alcohol and brief insinuation of alcohol abuse. Minor swearing.