What a fun book! I’m sure it’s enjoyable for anyone that doesn’t have a stick up their ass, but it’s the kind of book that even non-readers will love, too, because it’s an easy read, and the chapters are short, and it’s entertaining the whole way through, and it’s funny as hell.
Our narrator, Pat Peoples, is pretty crazy by society’s standards. He’s been in “the bad place” for years, and once out, with the help of his sweet mother, he’s trying to get his life back on track so he can reunite with his wife, who everyone else knows won’t be coming back.
So Pat knows he has to be good, and he has to be careful not to hit himself in the head, or break things when he’s visited by his arch nemesis, Kenny G, or punch out Giants fans in the parking lot of Lincoln Financial Field. (Although, as a diehard Giants fan, I can still tell you that the fan in this specific scene really did deserve to get punched in the face.)
And Pat’s struggles are exacerbated, because it seems like nobody understands him. And when it comes down to it, aside from a “crazy” girl in his neighborhood, most people don’t. He gets frustrated with all those chemicals within him that make him different from others. And he even knows he’s different and that his head’s a little skewed, but all those chemicals are so impossible to control.
Yet Pat Peoples remains childlike in his optimism. He’s convinced that the movie of his life will work out. If he stays good, his wife will come back and “apart time” will end. They can even have a daughter, because he’s learned and he’s going to treat his wife like gold now, and he misses her so much that he kisses her picture every night before he goes to bed. And coping mechanisms like humming and counting to ten every time he sees Kenny G, help, but Pat also needs an actual outlet. He runs and works-out all day, because before he went to the bad place for apart time he let himself get to the point where he was “maybe ten to seventy pounds overweight.” And putting his full self into rooting for the Eagles helps create a way to bond with his brother and his former best friend, and -- sometimes fleetingly -- his father.
But of course this book isn’t about football. It’s about the slow, difficult growth that takes place from someone who’s been through a lot of pain, and has a lot against him, not only because of his lost loves and difficult past, but because of the sickness he can’t control. And it’s clear that Matthew Quick knows mental illness. He’s worked in the field, and is open enough to admit that he’s struggled with depression himself. This is refreshing: he knows what it’s like, and it shows. It’s a nearly impossible feat -- making a character with such a funny outlook on life, allowing us to laugh so hard at someone who is disturbed -- all while making this same character lovable and real, and not some kind of comical caricature, but a fellow human-being open to sympathy, in need of sympathy. But somehow Quick does it.
But what I really can’t understand is how this Matthew Quick guy can be from the Philadelphia area -- and even worse -- root for the Eagles. He seems so nice in the e-mails we exchanged. It makes me think that maybe he’s not really from the Philadelphia area at all, but maybe his publisher or someone made him change all the references he originally had in his manuscript that were about the Giants -- who must be the team he actually roots for -- to “Eagles” and all their corresponding players, and switched their stadiums and everything else for commercial reasons or something. Because everyone knows that people from Philadelphia don’t reply friendly to e-mails, especially when they’re big shot authors of books that are being turned into movies. And everyone knows that the only two things Philadelphia people do well is boo at kindergarten graduations and root for evil teams like the Eagles.
But I digress.
Because right now I’m thinking that maybe Pat Peoples isn’t so crazy. While he’s experienced a lot of pain, he’s actually more attuned to the moods and sensitivities of others than your average person on the street. I think that’s part of what makes Pat Peoples so freakin’ lovable: he knows he’s crazy and even calls himself mentally deranged, but he has such a soft spot for everyone. He knows how difficult life can be, and because of that awareness, he understands the struggles of others. Because of his illness he’s put up with a lot of shit that most of us will never have to. But the goddamn guy remains so positive. And with therapy and medication, and friends and family, he improves. Pat Peoples made it out of the bad place, but he’s not the only one who's better off because of it.
Those who are different from “normal”, with their outsider view of life, can wake us up from the day-to-day world we get lost in, even opening us up to bizarre humor in the most unlikely of circumstances. And I think they can teach us that “crazy” isn’t something to be afraid of at all; that “crazy” only means that someone doesn’t fit into our norms, and is mainly just straight-up misunderstood.
So I dug this book. It tickled my funny bone the whole way through, and it contained valuable messages.
So: 5-stars. Minus one star because I hate the Eagles, and when they came back and beat the Giants this year in the second “Miracle in the Meadowlands” it made me start to cry in front of my girlfriend’s brother and spun me into a minor depression that only got worse the following week when I flipped-out during my layover at Atlanta International Airport as the shared communal TV showed Brandon Jacobs fumbling just as the Giants were starting to come back against the Packers and their playoff hopes were diminished right in front of my eyes as I screamed the f-word in quick succession, and wailed and got up spilling my dinner all over my lap and onto the floor and shouted and stomped, and it scared some children and I think it made two of them cry, and I had airport security eying me up and walking towards me in case I needed to be taken away.
So four stars it is.