Matt Pine's City Water Light & Power follows the entwined stories of Jake and Michelle as they negotiate a changing external and internal landscape in the city of Chicago. Jake unwillingly emerges from a lost state, while Michelle must become lost before finding a sense of self. Themes of identity and renewal build in subtle crescendos of tension that rise again and again until the culminating image that transfixes these themes into a remarkable unity.
While I wasn’t enchanted with the plot of City Water Light and Power, I thought the writing was extraordinary. I was captivated by the writer’s lyrical phrasing and vivid descriptions. His style is literary: cerebral and articulate. Matt Pine, to me, is a verbal artist. It was the quality of writing that held my attention rather than either the storyline or the characters.
Matt Pine speaks in metaphors. I found everything to be a metaphor for change. The sections, divided by seasons equaled the life changes experienced by the characters. The city (Chicago) and the demolition of its historic buildings to make way for sleazily financed, cheaply built high rises was almost a metaphor for the shift in societal values. Even the character Trisha seemed to be a metaphor for an unencumbered mind and freedom from conformity.
When Pine introduces the first two characters, Jake and Michelle, the reader immediately knows who these people are one pragmatic and one poetic—and knows they share an intimate, slightly complicated, but not romantic relationship. The introduction of a magical, mystical apparition who only Jake could see, is more of a foreshadowing of a character than a character, and is an anchor point (a marker) for Jake’s state of mind. Their ‘relationship’ parallels Jake’s evolution from imaginative to delusional and from interesting to pitiable. This is a very unique storytelling device. As the book progresses, the sprite evolves from a nameless vision to Trisha, a phantom but ‘real’ companion, not just a metaphorical illusion to Jake. By page 153, Jake talks about going back to his apartment to collect her. Through Trisha, Jakes loses touch with reality.
After the intro, Pine leapt the story two years into the future, thereby giving the reader a frame of reference for change before Chapter One even unfolds. It’s a definitely character-driven story.
The meetings Jake attends about the bar which is to be demolished, the council meeting, and then the introduction of Adrian, set the tone for the times. The futility of the grass-roots protest group, their half-hearted stand against the developers and politicians, and the persona of Adrian, all typify the new creed in Chicago’s business community, where greed and avarice were virtues rather than vices. An ongoing theme seems to be decline: the city, the ethics, and the characters.
The angst and self-absorption of the main characters become tiresome. Jake, a classic intellectual underachiever, is too wrapped up in his own head and too busy over-analyzing everything to contribute much to the world. His mind is a revolving door: spitting one idea out to make room for another. His fleeting, fragmented thoughts, he decides, are only fragmented because working for a living has broken their continuity. As his world continues to crumble and more demolished building crumble around him, Trisha becomes more and more real. His alcohol-induced quest to find meaning in his very trivial life leads him to a discovery among the ruins of buildings—engravings of letters—that, once collected, molded in plaster, and analyzed, will make sense of life, society, and put human history into perspective. The great purpose of this endeavor will justify his existence and allow his thoughts to flow, uninterrupted. The irony is that Trisha leads him into an accidental fall, he becomes disabled and his brain no longer conjures up Trisha. Michelle, no longer with Adrian, is with Jake, helping him walk with a cane, when in the wreckage of a demolished building he finds a plaster sign (CWL&P), which throws in his face the plan for greatness that he knows he’ll never achieve. Maybe… it was hard book to analyze.
An absolutely intriguing first novel. Although it's an easy read--I got most of the way through it in one evening--it's packed with such layers that it left me thinking about it for days afterwards. Chicagoans will appreciate it for its loving depiction of alleys, former horse barns, dive bars, tamale venders, walk-up apartments with ill-fitting windows, somnolent city council meetings,converted loop office buildings, and rattling "L" cars. But the Chicago themes are secondary to the generational ones. What happened, is happening, to the young adults who graduated from college and came into the world just on the cusp of the last recession? We see one character about to go to law school and another selling condos in the South Loop and we want to yell at them to reconsider before it's too late. Interspersed through all of this are some magical elements that left me thinking of Peter Pan. We've got the kids who aren't sure whether, or how, to grow up; a sprinkling of fairy dust; and even some flying. Full of magic and wonder. Highly recommended.
I found this book devastating. It captured the anomie of life in the corporate grind a little too well for my taste. Well written with a lot of thought given to the language, it made me ponder whether passive characters can be a political statement. I'll look forward to Pine's next book.
A great first book. The language is stunning at it's best, although it's a little self-indulgent at times. It's witty and insightful, and it captures the city of Chicago with a child's awe. The characters are beautifully developed, and lifelike to the point of being disconcerting at times. I enjoyed every page.
I received this as a first read. I enjoyed this book. I really liked that the stories entwined. This fact made this story very readable. A great first novel. Will definitely read more from this author.