Pinkwater wrote this novella with Luqman Keele and--let's cut to the chase--it's as whackadoodle as they come. Just the first few chapters bring a possible parental killing by headhunters and/or mysterious operatives, paragraphs of Indonesian vocabulary and lore, unlicensed aircraft piloting, forced assimilation into a revolutionary army, a mission to bomb tribal villagers (unwillingly), and a nearly-fatal strike by lightning. Pirates, a sultan, ancient magic, batik-making techniques, stabbings, volcanoes, and transcendental doorways also play a part in this brisk adventure tale.
The book world can probably be divided into those who enjoy Pinkwater and those who don't. I get it if you don't, but for me, he's so weird and funny and unlike anyone else. He's got this way of cramming interesting actions and ideas into his books, while nonchalantly resolving conflicts almost as soon as he raises them. The narrator in JAVA JACK is just like all of his other savvy, yet endearingly oddball, teenage narrators. Though vintage Pinkwater, this is YA outside of today's acceptable formulas for YA. But it's the grownups I'd really like to encourage--reading Pinkwater is an exercise in forgetting everything you think you know about how a book's supposed to unfold. If you're in the mood for something fun and strange, JAVA JACK is probably a good way to go.
Indonesian animation pioneer Luqman Keele co-wrote this deeply peculiar young adult novel with cult YA novelist Daniel Pinkwater. Pinkwater has disowned the book as incomprehensible trash, and has distanced himself from it, claiming to be "only a super-involved editor" and not a creative force.
I don't buy it.
Pinkwater's idiosyncratic touch is ALL over "Java Jack," only with Keele's background in Indonesian and Native American folklore and culture interwoven with the surrealist sci-fi silliness in place of Pinkwater's big-city Jewish sensibility. There's something oddly captivating about this book- Keele's far-flung plot of international terrorism and pantheistic mysticism blends with Pinkwater's blunt Salinger-on-acid prose and off-kilter sense of humor. Pinkwater may hate it, but to me this one is a forgotten gem.
I feel like I've uncovered a forgotten Pinkwater treasure that never saw much light of day. It's a wild ride, as always with Pinkwater. At some points I was scratching my head over the mention of the narrator getting high and guerilla rebels killing natives in the jungle (is this meant to be a middle reader book like most of his other books?), but these mostly just added to the zany appeal. I don't think the man could write a bad book if he tried to.
Awesome. Has more profanity, more fear, more sadness, and more spirituality than Pinkwater's usual existential adventures, while staying connected to a message of great hope and joy.