I’m normally not a fan of Chuck Palahniuk. I liked Fight Club fine, but I despised Lullaby to such an extent that, even though it had been the only other Palahniuk novel I’d ever read, it colored my thinking about him absolutely. (I did start Choke and didn’t care for it; I’ve also listened to a bit of an interview he gave shortly after Haunted was released, which was smart enough to convince me that he had talent, talent that was wasted on Lullaby.) What bugs me about him, based on my limited reading, is his seemingly absolute aversion to specificity. Where do these stories take place? Somewhere. When is it? Sometime. What exactly is the sickness at the heart of society that drives characters to do what they do? Something. It’s all very Beckett, Sartre, or Camus, but without the elegance or the depth. We can, of course, come to conclusions about the who, what, where, and when of these novels, but for my own personal taste, politics, and aesthetics, Lullaby (and by reverse extension Fight Club) fall short of saying anything interesting.
I can’t say that Rant entirely deviates from the “pattern”–it begins in a nowheresville small town named Middleton and moves to a big (unnamed, natch) city about one-third of the way through. The historical moment of the novel is never made explicit. The small town scenes seemingly could be set at any moment of American history after WWII (or maybe even before). There is little identifying technology and no reference to any historical event that might give the reader a clue, except a few mentions of “Party Crashing,” the I-SEE-U Act,” and “out-cording”, neither of which make any sense upon a first reading until well-after this neo-nostalgic section of the novel concludes.
Once the setting moves to the city, the reader becomes aware that this is not the 1950s, 60s, 70s, or any other recognizable period in history. To compensate for the impossible traffic conditions of the future (yes future) the world of the city has been divided into day and night. Citizens are only allowed to emerge from their homes for twelve hour shifts. Klaxons warn of the approach of dawn or dusk and $500 or $1000 fines are levied for people who do not comply. Nighttimers (as they are called) form a kind of underclass. They are given subsidized housing and certain other perks in the hopes that more people while choose to be nocturnal, but mainly their ranks are drawn from the endless supply of teenagers who–like the hippies, punks, and goths before them–mainly leave the day behind to piss off their parents. The most significant form of community found at night is the somewhat mysterious activity of Party Crashing, a sort of game which involves flagging your car with a pre-arranged symbol (a Christmas tree, a “Just Married Sign,” etc.) and prowling the streets looking to “tag” (i.e. run into) other cars similarly marked. But it’s not just for giggles. There is a point, even if it takes a while to develop.
The plot element that finally clues the reader in to just how far in the future this novel is set (or simply the fact that it is absolutely not set in some version of our present with a minor tweak) is the existence of Matrix-like ports in the back of almost everyone’s head. The ports are used for “out-cording”–think of what Nero does in Strange Days–a form of entertainment that has, overnight, eliminated all other media. And that’s the set up.
Oh, except for one thing.
Rant Casey, the eponymous protagonist whose story is told through the recollections of several dozen characters of various acquaintance, is into rabies. As a child he would vaccinate himself against boredom or schoolwork by sticking his hands down animal holes. He had been bitten by black widows, hobo and recluse spiders, coyotes, bats, skunks, and innumerable other dangerous critters. Eventually he became an asymptomatic carrier of a highly contagious and highly drug-resistant form of rabies which, according to the government, threatens society on an existential level and is the justification for the more or less genocidal slaughter of Nighttimers. Okay, that’s the set up.
And from there the novel gets really weird. Continue Reading »
