Going After Cacciato

Warning: This review contains mild to severe plot spoilers.

Paul Berlin is a member of the United States Army during the Vietnam War. While he is in Vietnam, a fellow member of his squad, Cacciato, goes AWOL. This is what happens after, or what could have happened, or maybe happened and maybe not. Because sometimes the hardest thing to see is the truth.

Let’s talk about internal conflict.

This book was rife with it: the conflict between freedom and obligation, between a sense of duty and a sense of self, between the glory of possibility and the harshness of reality. And that was just the beginning—by the end the book has explored so much more.

It's unfortunate that I can't say much more without getting into spoilers, however slight.

--SPOILER WARNING--

I will admit that there were hints of the exact nature of the internal conflict throughout the book. Strange people and actions, items that should have been accounted for and yet were not—all of it combined to create a hallucinogenic effect. The brief spots of confusion do resolve by the end, but the long irresolution of strange events serve to make the story much more effective.

The buildup of conflict within the book is partly due to the fact that the suspension of belief used by O’Brien is amazingly powerful. With the use of short, powerful phrases, and brief transitions from past tense to present, O’Brien creates an image of the Vietnam War that is both powerful and real. From the first sentence, he captures the reader’s attention and holds it until the end, exploring the deeper issues of war along the way: what is war? What is it to say that the war is over? And is it really over? What does it mean to go after Cacciato? Is it a dream, or is it something else?

---

Notes: Going After Cacciato is Tim O’Brien’s second novel, and was originally published in 1978 by Delacorte Press. The version I read was paperback, published in 1999 by Broadway Books, a division of Random House, by arrangement with Delacorte Press. The cover art was designed by Nicola Ferguson. For more information about Tim O’Brien and his works, please visit his website.

Realistic historical fiction, 336 pages, close third person point of view (bordering on omniscient third in places)

Topics: The definitions of war and peace, reality versus possibility, freedom and happiness versus duty and obligation, fear

Warnings: Profanity scattered throughout. Violence and death, though it is stated as a fact, and is not explicitly condoned (please note that this is a novel about the Vietnam War, and that violence and death are inherently a part of that). Some non-detailed references to sexual acts and fantasies, and a few non-detailed references to kissing.

Five out of Five.

Life, the Universe, and Everything

Arthur Dent is stuck in the past. Literally--he’s been marooned on a prehistoric Earth that isn’t due to be destroyed for another two million years. Then Ford Prefect shows up, and naturally, all hope of normalcy disappears. A floating sofa is explained by eddies in the space-time continuum (whoever he is), and in no time Arthur and Ford are two million years in the future, on the day a cricket game is interrupted by white robots from the planet Krikkit. These robots, it turns out, are out to destroy the world, and it is up to Arthur, Ford, and Slartibartfast to stop them.

This was by far my favorite of Adams’ Hitchhiker’s books. I’ve cited his brand of humor far too many times, so I suppose I’ll begin with what made this book so much different from the others.

No detail is wasted. While attention is brought to random details in other books for no other reason than to highlight the absurdity of the situation, the seemingly random details in Life, the Universe, and Everything are, well, not so random. Or rather, they are just as random—if more so—but they are also central to the plot. This in turn leads to some inadvertent foreshadowing to the end of the series.

I also noticed that by the beginning of this book, Arthur seems to have accepted the fact that nothing is ever going to be normal again. He seems to take everything in stride; this is helpful in reinforcing the absurdist nature of the piece. The matter-of-fact nature with which he takes everything that happens to him is certainly refreshing after his unending confusion in the first two books. The result is an increased sense of hilarity when he does become bewildered by little details. In a way, I guess it’s this trait that pulls the rest of the story out of proportion: Arthur’s struggle to find normalcy in the details seems absolutely ridiculous in the face of such huge issues as the impending end of the universe.

That’s pretty much it. It was sufficiently absurd to keep me turning pages. I’d recommend it to those who liked the first two books.

---

Notes: Life, the Universe, and Everything was Douglas Adams’ third novel, and is part three of the Hitchhiker’s Trilogy. It was first published in 1982 by Harmony Books, a division of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House. The version I read was softcover, published in 1995 by Del Ray Books.

Adult comedial science fiction, 240 pages, omniscient third person point of view

Topics: The meaning of life, reality (numerous parallels), absurdism, fate

Publisher’s age recommendation: N/A

Warnings: Brief innuendo. Some violence. Talk of alcohol and brief insinuation of alcohol abuse. Indirect descriptions of depression.

Five out of five.

The Restaurant at the End of the Universe

Zaphod Beeblebrox just wants something to eat. Unfortunately, the Universe just doesn’t seem to agree. Someone always seems to want his undivided attention, whether it’s Vogons intent on destroying the last of the Earthlings (and therefore everyone else on the Heart of Gold), or his great-grandfather/grandson, he just can’t ever seem to get where he wants to go. So when he finally finds himself at Milliways, the Restaurant at the End of the Universe, chaos naturally ensues.

What more is there to say that hasn’t already been said? I’ve already written an essay on Adams’ absurdist humor and its complexities. Once again, the sort of organized chaos that he puts into his work is very difficult to generalize upon (and that particular brand of chaos will be discussed in a later post). So I suppose I should get straight to the point.

I liked this book. Why? Because it’s got everything I love about Adams--the wit, the humor, the organized chaos. But I didn’t like it nearly as much as the first book in the trilogy. Don’t get me wrong--I found some of my favorite quotes while reading it. There was just something that slowed me down so much that it took me forever to finish. And by the time I did finish, I didn’t know what to do next.

So anyway, my suggestion: fans of the first book might like this second book. This particular series should probably be read in order for maximum comprehension--some of the jokes are built solely upon the first book, and won’t make much sense otherwise.

---

Notes: The Restaurant at the End of the Galaxy was Douglas Adams’ second novel, and is part two of the Hitchhiker’s Trilogy. It was first published in 1980 by Serious Productions. The version I read was hardcover, published in 1982 by Pocket Books, a division of Simon & Shuster, by arrangement with Crown Publishers.

Adult comedial science fiction, 250 pages, omniscient third person point of view

Topics: The meaning of life, reality (numerous parallels), absurdism

Publisher’s age recommendation: N/A

Warnings: Brief innuendo. Some violence. Talk of alcohol and brief insinuation of alcohol abuse.

Three out of five.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

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.

---

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.

Ethan Frome

Ethan Frome lives on a failing farm in Starkfield, Massachusetts. Having once escaped the dreariness of small-town life, he has been pulled back to Starkfield on account of his mother’s illness and subsequent death. Now married to his mother’s nurse and cousin, Ethan Frome is trapped in a cold and dreary New England world. He doesn’t even have control over his house--the hypochondriac Zeena sees to that. When Zeena decides to hire a maid, Ethan balks at the money that will cost them; how are they supposed to afford the extra living expenses, let alone the girl’s pay? But instead of a hired girl, Zeena finds Mattie, her sickly, orphaned cousin, left without money by her late father. Ethan likes Mattie, and Mattie likes Ethan. There might be no problem with this, except for the fact that Ethan is already married, and divorce isn’t looked upon highly by his fellow peers. With a wife like Zeena and a love like Mattie, what’s a man to do?

I probably would not have read this book if I hadn’t been reading it for a class. The narrative was long and the pacing was slow, but that wasn’t what really drove me away. The plot just didn’t catch my attention. I had to force myself to finish.

Conceptually, however, the novel is very powerful. It’s a perfect example of the themes of power and control. All Ethan wants is to be able to live by his own rules, and every thought that goes through his head, every action he takes, revolves, however indirectly, around gaining his own freedom. I was especially taken by the irony of the book’s ending and this theme; while it could have been anticipated, the ending really grounds out the reality of Ethan’s situation.

Also apparent throughout this novel was the theme of societal values. Taking into account the setting of the story, certain items, such as Zeena’s pickle dish, make these values easy to see and understand. Marriage is important; divorce is not to be considered. The differences between what Ethan wants and what he gets are so great that even nature appears to work against him in some instances. In essence, the entire novel is thematic, centering on Ethan’s potential situation and the harshness of the reality with which he is faced.

Special attention, I think, was also given to the color red; Mattie is associated with the color in every single appearance. Coincidence? I think not.

---

Notes: Ethan Frome was Edith Wahrton’s seventh novel. It was first published in 1911 by Charles Scribner’s Sons. The version I read was hardcover, published in 2003 by Marco Book Company.

Adult tragic romantic fiction, 132 pages,, third person point of view

Topics: Freedom, power, control, potential versus reality, societal values

Publisher’s age recommendation: N/A

Warnings: A single instance of suicidal thoughts and actions, though these are not successful; implied incest.

How to Make Friends With Demons

William Heaney is a master forger, the face front of a rare-book business that puts all profits towards the homeless. He and his friends have it all worked out: Jazz finds a customer, William discusses the product and price, and Stinx, the artist, forges a perfect authentic copy. But that’s not all. William Heaney sees demons. They live on the fringes of human life, the shadowy, smoky figures that attach themselves to humans. And he can’t do anything about them. But why should he worry? He’s been clean of them for several years now, as he works on his forgeries. At least, that’s until Yasmin appears, with her questionable association with a prospective client. And her appearance is quickly followed by two seemingly unconnected men: one who fought in Desert Storm, and another that he’d rather forget. Now it appears that a simple book-dealing business has turned into a fight for William Heaney to stay on his feet.

It occurs to me that all the books I’ve read recently have been written in the first person. This one in particular was recommended by a friend. And the beginning, I admit, was fairly good. But I soon grew tired of the endless narration, and the book that should have taken one week to read took four.

That isn’t to say I didn’t like it at all. The beginning roused my curiosity with Heaney’s talk of demons, and Antonia was a good character. The ending, I thought, was very powerful, and the overall narration was carried over well. But when it came to the middle, I found that I just couldn’t get into it. Sure, there were a few good parts--I particularly enjoyed Heaney’s conversations with his daughter Sarah and her boyfriend, Mo--but other than that, I can’t say that I liked it much. I found the narration to be endless, the characters a bit flat. Everything seemed to be dragged out, with a few exceptions.

Still, I can’t say that I wouldn’t recommend it. The narration was much more lighthearted than that in the other books I’ve been reading, and it was a welcome break from such seriousness. Once again, the ending was very powerful, and I think the book was worth reading just for that. And the book carries a great message in the way of reality: what is reality, exactly, except for what a person experiences? Heaney is normal--there is nothing wrong with him, and this has been stated by a psychologist. But what is normal, really? Joyce really pushes the meaning of reality to the limit, and that’s just what I loved about this book.

---

Notes: How to Make Friends With Demons by Graham Joyce was first published in 2008 by Gollancz, an imprint of Orion Publishing Group under the title Memoirs of a Master Forger under the pseudonym William Heaney. The version I read was hardcover, published in 2009 by Night Shade Books.

Adult speculative dark fantasy, 298 pages, first person point of view

Topics: Existentialism, homelessness, acceptance, self-forgiveness, family

Publisher’s age recommendation: N/A

Warnings: Prevalent, blatant sexual references. Some violence (an explosion, an account of the Persian Gulf War). Liberal use of alcohol, prevalent use of drugs (mostly smoking, though there are some references to other, more hard-core substances), and strong implication of substance abuse. Liberal swearing, highly prevalent.