According to Dictionary.com, the word "singular" means the following:
1.extraordinary; remarkable; exceptional: a singular success.
2.unusual or strange; odd; different: singular behavior.
3.being the only one of its kind; distinctive; unique: a singular example.
4.separate; individual.
God, I hate it when students start their papers off like that. Yet here we are. I cannot think of another word that so perfectly captures my feelings about this book. Perhaps because I am not a very creative person--alas, I'll never be the author that Horvath is--I tend to remark on "other books this reminded of" in many of my reviews. Of course, that could also be my Type A Personality's need to rigidly define and categorize everything: it is this, but not that. In that regard, this book threw me for a loop in a few ways. I don't even know whether to call it a book (as in "novel"...sort of) or a collection of short stories. The first chapter/story(?!) narrates readers' entrance into the lobby. "Okay," I think. "I'm entering Horvath's fictive world and everything herein [the book] will be part of that world." And I suppose in one sense it is, but, on the other hand, it might just be glimpses at a whole bunch of different worlds. But there is the unifying thread of the "Urban Planning: Case Stud[ies]." But those don't even have anything--at least anything obvious--at least anything obvious to me--connecting them. But then there's the fact that, as I read and think--and over-think--how to analyze what I'm reading, I also happen upon lines that suddenly seem planted just to make me think I'm on the right track. Lines like this: "There is always a sense of connectedness, of going somewhere, even if Schoner [or Horvath or the reader or just me?!] is lost mostly in the sounds of words" (61). BUT am I giving importance to that line only because it speaks to what I'm looking for? For example, take a random number, say 72. Now look for that number and you'll be amazed at how often it turns up.
So back to my feeble mind trying to categorize this book. Here's the first thing I came up with: Barth's Lost in the Funhouse. The damndest thing is that I don't think I've ever even read Lost in the Funhouse! Or if I did (is that the one where the first chapter is about sperm?) I don't remember the slightest thing (except for maybe the sperm) about it. Thus, it MUST be the title! Lost in the Funhouse is exactly how I felt while reading this. At times I was lost, but it was always fun. And guess what. After I've already got that all worked out in my own head (I swear!), I come upon this line: "It was a fun house, only a fun house asked of you a single mind state, that peculiar to fun houses, whereas Palamoa [this book?!] demanded a continuous pivot, a peering into the pockets of life as they turned themselves inside out one by one" (204-5).
So after all that, what do I know about the book? First, I know you should read it. Second, I know that all of the stories, as absurd/fantastical as many are, are human. Here I am again at a loss for just the right word, and this time Dictionary.com can't bail me out he says before he actually decides to type "human" into Dictionary.com.
According to Dictionary.com, the word "human" means the following:
1.of, pertaining to, characteristic of, or having the nature of people: human frailty.
2.consisting of people: the human race.
3.of or pertaining to the social aspect of people: human affairs.
4.sympathetic; humane: a warmly human understanding.
Perfect! In these various fictions, Horvath seamlessly weaves real humanity with surreal settings/situations. It's like he knows "exactly where the cogs of illusion meshed and where the seams flickered by undetected, how life could be adjusted with the efficiency a tailor takes to a suit: a few seconds trimmed here, an inversion or two, a telling juxtaposition, voila" (202). To further enhance the illusion and make me lose sight of the surreality of the whole thing is the language. There are some many beautiful sentences in here. At times--to return to my need to categorize, to compare--I definitely got faint whiffs of Wallace (DF). No, there aren't copious foot/end notes, but some sentences manage to be so long and still seem so natural because they just flow so well AND they plant erudite, scholarly language smack dab next to crass, colloquialisms that it's hard not to think of DFW. In fact, my one complaint about this book is that it is (sort of?) a collection of short stories. I loved the characters, the premises, the ideas so I was constantly disappointed by the endings. However, it probably wasn't even the quality of the endings but rather the fact that there were endings so quickly. Basically, I'm saying that I want to read Horvath's 1,100 page masterpiece, his Infinite Jest.
And now, as I draw to a close, I realize that I've written all that and really haven't told you much about the actual stories. Don't get me wrong, they certainly don't totally defy description, I just rambled in a different vein. If you pick up this book--pick up this book--you will get some of, but not limited to, the following: a dying father obsessed with the journeys of things and his son's touching, comforting stories which, themselves, speak to the power of fiction; an eccentric professor and his displacement in/from Nazi Germany; a soul's passage to death; the realistically comical and comically realistic depiction of a college's faculty interactions, but in the department of Umbrology, and one professor's lone passion for his subject; a family vacation that leads to the all too-familiar thoughts of "What if...What could have been?" and the often jarring, even upsetting realization that there is no one "right" path to lead through life (this was a favorite of mine); some pseudo baseball players on a roof; a scrupulously accurate description of bringing your child to a public place to interact with other children and all of the interactions that entails (another favorite!); a world of people who only come to truly value conversation and the power/importance of expressing oneself after it was explosively taken away from them; and a whole lot more. Even as I was writing this list of ever-so-brief synopses, I thought about deleting this whole paragraph because none of those are good descriptions of what the stories are about.
I guess I'll simply have to stick to this: the stories are singular and the stories are human.