b) book reveiws

Negative Review

Life After God – by robert zverina


God is not the answer.

And neither is this book. Instead of offering answers, Life After God contents itself with voicing fears most of us are happy to ignore in a prose that is as economical yet evocative as the simple line drawings which head each very short chapter. The text and pictures exist in separate but equal worlds, like people, but, like people, they benefit from the presence of one another.

In a series of more or less related first-person narratives, we witness harrowing remembrances of victims' final moments after the Bomb hits, bittersweet recollections of love that faded like paint, and disturbing descriptions of consciousness blunted by prescription medicine --all part of a litany of worries and tribulations with which Coupland's too-hip-for-their-own-health characters struggle to cope without the benefit of faith. (The "God" of the title signifies the missing palliative for human sorrow and might be replaced by "Meaning," "Community," or "College," depending on the experience and needs of the reader.)

It's strange that a book about spiritual destitution at the end of the millenium should be such a pleasure to read. It's the same pleasure one derives from picking scabs, touching what shouldn't be touched. It hurts a bit but also feels pretty good. Oddly, despite their morbid acuity, the tales do not unsettle so much as they reassure, giving shape to the nebulous fears we keep submerged--the scabs we do our best to ignore.

As in Tales from Generation X, it is the telling which redeems, which offers hope: "These hands--the hands that care, the hands that mold; the hands that touch the lips, the lips that speak the words--the words that tell us we are whole." These too are the hands which pick scabs, the hands that tug at old wounds to, in Nathanael West's words, hurt the pain. But once peeled away the scabs reveal smooth new skin underneath and the promise of regeneration.

Despite nuclear paranoia, despite the dissolution of families, despite the disruption of communities, despite the death of God (with a capital G, no less!), despite the absence of meaningful work, it is our human ability to share experience in words which bridges the abysses between us and fills the voids within, which is why this book offers temporary solace to anyone who thinks they're alone in fearing the world is on its last legs.


Good Review

Every time I pick up this book, I get something more out of it. Sometimes I read it from beginning to end, and then at other times I just pick it up and read at random. This book deals with many of the big questions all of us will have to deal with in our lives. Questions like: How do we deal with Loneliness? Anxiety? Failed relationships? How can we find quiet in our lives? It also deals with the question of being raised without a religion or belief system and how, as we age, we end up struggling with spiritual questions.

If you can track down the first edition hardcover it is worth it. It is in a different format and shape. With the dust jacket off, it looks like a prayer book or bible. If you read it without the jacket in public places people will often ask you what you are reading. This was intentional and the shape and design of this book are part of the art of the book, and part of the complexity Coupland has woven into it. The front cover of the hardback also has an outline of a hand, like a tracing of a childs hand. As we are all reaching out beyond ourselves in search of some greater meaning in life, we are reaching out like a child in search of a parent.

My hat is off to Coupland and this amazing work of art - on all the levels that it is art of the deepest level. Coupland has created a masterpiece that will become a classic, which will survive through the ages.