Ryan is a shy university student who can turn into a fly.
Cassandra is a waitress at a greasy spoon who can make things disappear.
In a world of political revolutionaries, indie rockers, zinesters, hardcore feminists, rave kids and slackwater poets, they are the Superheroes for Social Justice �battling cigarette barrons, redneck tabloids, the patriarcky, and other forces of evil!
Anarchist (Though as far as I can tell the non-violent type), Vegan, Dad. Jim Munroe is also a talented young author particularly notable for his novel "Flyboy Action Figure comes with Gasmask" and his indie DIY-leanings. See his website for more information, especially regarding those 'indie DIY-leanings' which he is particularly passionate about.
I knew I had a problem when I was delving into my novel/short story idea last night at 4am and thought "what a great name Cassandra would be for my main character!" Then I remembered, whoops, I'm totally glorifying Cassandra from Munroe's book.
I think this one should really be 3.5 stars. I had a hard time getting into it and put it down for several months. Once things got deeper into Ryan and Cassandra's relationship, I was hooked. I realized this wasn't going to be one of those "boy sees girl - boy crushes on girl - boy can't get girl - boy finds another girl he can get and they live happily ever after". For some reason, I just couldn't see this book as one of those.
At the same time, I have difficulty with the fact that Cassandra seemed so willing to be with Ryan. I understand that they shared secrets and that the realization that they had things in common drew her to him. But Ryan remained really boring until the very end of the story. In fact, I couldn't remember his name. All the other characters stood out to me, in some way shape or form, but it was Cassandra who really stole my heart. A lot.
So while I'm pleased to say that Munroe wrote a character I liked, I'm a little disappointed to realize it was the girl who's everything I wish I could be and would have made a way better main character. The punk rock princess with the magical ability to stay strong, her mysterious child that came about in ways you would never expect, the absurdity of magical realism...
I need to get going but here are some tips for things I'd like to do in the future:
Rewrite the summary to make it more accurate Things I liked and disliked about the book via quotes Reaction images (because these are fun)
I still find myself wishing there were more of this book to read when I sit down to lunch and that makes me sad.
I turned up Flyboy in the public library in Akron, Ohio, around the turn of the century. I was in grad school, doing a little fiction writing on the side, and was wondering whether I should continue with the latter as I'd been mainly exploring the idea of producing a kind of quotidian young-white-dude-in-crisis litfic (“write what you know” then interpreted as a holy stricture instead of a loose guideline) and—then as now—it seemed fundamentally unsatisfying to myself, let alone the idea of a general reader. Reading Flyboy was one of a number of indications that things didn't have to be this way; before the millennium fully turned, I'd turned as well to the kind of goofy, nascent weird fiction that truly held my heart. Munroe's example was further strengthened by his generous advice and DIY energy; his website used to host a written tutorial on how he'd made Flyboy, and among other things, I took to his “weekly word count” method instantly and it guided me for the next decade and a half (and probably had an effect on how I approach artistic production even now). So many even semi-successful writers tend, in my experience, to act—consciously or no—as gatekeepers; Munroe felt anyone had at least one novel in them and ought to go for it (he's since gone on to several more novels, a few OGNs, and even a couple of webseries, all made with and filtered through the same ideals). Though there've been times when I regarded my writing “career,” if you can call it that, as a waste of time I could have spent continuing and improving my drawing (and I do often wonder what would have happened if I'd kept my ad hoc therapy sketching going after settling into Michigan), rereading Flyboy reminds me of how much I used to love both process and result (maybe not a coincidence I went through some of my old stories yesterday morning and was pleasantly surprised to see how many of the less usual memories held up).
Ryan, a student at the University of Toronto in the nineties (the book was published in 1998 but it feels made of cultural strands from throughout the decade) falls for Cassandra, a server at a diner he frequents. So far it sounds like the kind of stuff on which I'd spend hundreds if not thousands of my own listless words, but Ryan can transform into a housefly, and learns that Cassandra can make objects—and perhaps people—disappear. That was a turn out of the ordinary, and their “superpowers” thrust them into a welter of emotional turbulence and local radical politics (both studenty and otherwise). Ryan's troubled family life and a deceptive series of threats lead to a climax that didn't exactly convince on first reading (and I've still got issues with it today, not just because of certain other factors; CW: ), but overall its place in my personal memories was reinforced by returning to it two decades later (I can't remember fully rereading it since the first time). Part of the appeal was how much it reminded me of me, not just the alienated young protagonist, but the writing style; I'd never run across prose that was so similar to mine before and it feels just as eerie several years after I stopped writing as it was in my early “heyday” (judging from the period author photo, Munroe even looked like me if you squinted hard). The ragtag sense of bohemia was certainly a lot stronger in Toronto than it was in, say, Baton Rouge or Akron (Ann Arbor comes--or came--closer), but I'd had enough experience on its margins to feel a warm sympathy with so many of the characters.
The impression's even more powerful when it comes to the political dimensions; the characters' ACAB ethos has only grown more relevant and pressing over the past several years, and especially given the Canadian context, the cops' general oppressiveness, hostility, and uselessness against (if not alliance with) injustice writ large (menacing Take Back The Night marches, harassing jailed pot smokers, etc.) feels like it, uh, just happened yesterday (one of the more ironic subplots involves our Canadian heroes spiriting away a friend to Detroit to avoid a draconian prison sentence). Some of it creaks, to be sure, maybe as a right-on result: the self-aware wisecracks feel a little too certain to be the mask for twentysomething insecurities, the female characters occasionally (rhetorically) flirt with a hazy mix of Cool Girl and Mary Sue (though I don't think they ever quite fully get there?), and there's an overemphasis at times on the ethnic identities of supporting characters that feels condescending (though sometimes, as with Ryan's laconic roommate Phil, their own personalities manage to counteract). YMMV, but I do think it's worth noting that all of the latter seem to come from an excess of care rather than a lack of it; I've read few novels that tried so laudably and endearingly hard (when Ryan and Cassandra go “public”—or as public as they can, they call themselves “Superheroes for Social Justice”). Well worth checking out not just as a nineties time capsule or as the debut of a deceptively unique Great Lakes writer (I can recommend Angry Young Spaceman and probably Everyone In Silico as well, if not An Opening Act of Unspeakable Evil) but also a salutary lesson in how little things have changed over the years and how hard people still try to fight them.
excellent book about anarchist superheroes, a woman who can make things disappear and a guy who can turn into a fly (there is a special place in my heart for stories where people turn into insects), also a half-alien baby; written in the 90s but I didn't notice until they started talking about Bush without specifying which one and I had to check the year, could've been written today if social media and smart phones had been added; where was this 3 years ago when I really needed it?, but I've found it now TW for pedophilia, there's also some furry sex scenes but those are pretty easy to skip if they're not your thing
Really loved this off-beat superhero tale. Gritty or hard or grounded does not really describe it's unusual tone. But there is something so real-world about it. I'm forever struck by the image of them going out, driving along and disappearing newspaper boxes, only to accidentally disappear a mailbox and thinking thought the implications of that. A fantastic fun little read that I recommend to everyone.
A pair of characters with inexplicable superpowers ('Flyboy,' who can turn into a fly, and 'Ms Place' who can make things disappear) decide to costume up and fight crime ... in their case, this amounts to corporate and government overreach and malfeasance. A worthy goal, even if many of their strategies seem misjudged or at worse incredibly unlikely. Still, the novel is entertaining and readers who are looking for a different approach to superhero action will likely enjoy it.
There's a lot to like about this book, especially in the first half or so, but the second half felt really slapdash with no real buildup or climax, just big revelations happening in the space of a couple of pages and dissipating just as quickly.
Flyboy Action Figure Comes with Gasmask is a slice of the lives of Flyboy, a shy college student, and his partner and romantic interest, Ms. Place, the waitress at the local diner. They bond over having bizarre superpowers and decide to use them to create a better world not by fighting crime, but by taking ethical stands on the issues they care about and creating publicity campaign to draw attention to that. I loved the idea of real life superheroes doing something that's not unrealistic and violent like beating up drug dealers and muggers every night, but rather something else that can change the world: political art and protest.
I enjoyed this book but liked it less than Angry Young Spaceman (the last book I read by Munroe) despite its superhero theme. I was more frustrated after finishing this book than I was after reading Angry Young Spaceman with Jim Munroe's tendency to just meander along in the lives of some people and then suddenly, something vaguely climactic but mostly out of nowhere happens about 20-30 pages from the end of the book, without any buildup, and without much explanation, and without any denouement afterward. It always feels really forced. In Angry Young Spaceman I didn't mind *too* much, and since I had otherwise enjoyed the book I didn't write the whole thing off for lacking any real conflict, but I guess I can't accept it with the same charity twice.
I can see how one could say, maybe, that Jim Munroe's books are designed to break the traditional cathartic plot structure of exposition, rising action, conflict, climax, denouement... and that this is done intentionally to more accurately simulate real life, where somethings things happen but they're usually unexpected, and nothing comes with a handy pyramid design to lead us through. I can see too how one may say that since through the entire book Munroe's characters are discussing and dealing with difficult social and ethical concepts, there is most definitely conflict. But still... something about seeing the *same* "alternate structure" twice feels less like deliberation and more like some kind of Rob Liefeld foot syndrome*. It also makes me feel like, I already know exactly what I'll be getting when/if I read the next book of his I was considering checking out.
This may not bother other readers - to be honest it only a *little* bothers me and I still think Jim Munroe's books are fantastically entertaining reads - but I thought it was worth a mention.
(For those not up w/ comic references: Rob Liefeld cannot draw feet, so he constantly hides the feet of his subjects in smoke, behind rocks, in standing water....)
I must have read FLYBOY a couple of years after it came out, happening on it by chance in the Akron Public Library. At the time, I'd pretty much given up on modern fiction, and as a result found it deeply disturbing how much I related to the characters in FLYBOY--Jim, Cassandra, the whole lot. The dialogue also felt real--in both subject and pacing--in a way that much "literary" dialogue (then and since) doesn't. Jim and his friends may be self-absorbed Toronto hipsters, but I can easily picture their conversations in buses and bars. I probably think much more highly of this novel than it deserves, mainly because I admire Munroe for not being afraid to wear his politics on his sleeve, accusations of "political correctness" be damned, and for the DIY sensibility he brings to his literary endeavors and persona (FLYBOY, as well as some of his other novels, were self-published at various points in their lives, and he still sells them largely online, I believe). While reading it, I was shaken and delighted to find that his writing style actually resembled mine (at the time, anyway), even if he can do things I probably can't (pull a plot together, finish and publish a novel, etc.). FLYBOY's characters end up being hugely endearing despite their pretensions. The novel's central conceit is unexpectedly plausible (I think the economy of Munroe's descriptions in this regard helps a lot) even if the plot veers dangerously toward melodrama (the bittersweet ending helps, too). One of my favorite "first novels," FLYBOY manages to be fun, thought-provoking, and even escapist in places (a good thing, considering the seriousness of much of its subject matter) while maintaining a constant serious undercurrent.
Didn't care for it. The so-called super heroes in this book destroy public and private property, humiliate and taunt police officers, free an admitted drug dealer from custody and make plans to free a convicted cop-killer. The faceless media calls them terrorists, and rightly so. And the one character who agrees with this sentiment? Turns out he's a pedophile. Yeah.
The book isn't all bad. The writing is crisp, the dialogue sharp and in places clever. But characterization is weak. It's difficult to tell the characters apart. You could easily out Ken for Jack for Phil without noticing a difference. And after setting the book aside for less than a day, I forgot who some of the characters were.
One moment that particularly annoyed me occurs when main character Ryan confesses to his bi-sexual girlfriend that he'd be jealous if she spent time with a male ex but not if she spent time with a female ex. Cassandra calls him a homophobe and a sexist...and he agrees. And this occurs while she's apologizing for springing the female ex on him. Apology to accusation, just like that. And weak-willed Ryan accepts this chastisement as just. Pathetic.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Do you get annoyed by reviews that say something like a mix or Nicholas Hornby male confession with Christopher moore's humor and Harukai Murakami's quirkiness. So do I. It doesn't really tell you anything. Except in this case it would apply. Especially the Nick hornby and Christopher moore mixed together part. The humor is fun but not outrageous. the character interactions are fun and fit the college setting they are placed in. Reminds me of my younger days. Friends joking with each other, sometimes relentlessly. The main two characters are quirky, and unsure of themselves just like college kids can be. It's not just the dialogue that makes this book a good read. The way the main two characters decide to fight social injustice instead of facing supervillians or major criminals. They take on challenges that college kids would take on. For example they attend a take back the night protest. If the books seems slow in the beginning please stick it out till the last third. It puts alot into the end of the book. Everyone's lives are changed.
I thought I just liked the book, but then I read the last third--its fantastic. The ending is a little weak, but I get it...the novel stops but the story goes on. I think the "fly on the wall" metaphor for the narrator both as superpower and as narrative device is beyond brilliant. I like that the male character is the sidekick, too. What I really enjoyed was that, unlike many other novelizations of superhero fiction, there is a world, here. I like that the heroes here didn't try to tackle supervillainy, but things that were important to them...the issues of twenty-somethings in the late 90s. In fact, this novel felt a lot more like it took place in Seattle of the early 90s...very "Reality Bites" with superpowers. I could have done with a little less hipster dialect, but in the end it works. Just a really great read; HIGHLY recommended.
Ehh. With such an excellent title, I expected much more out of Flyboy Action Figure Comes with Gasmask. There are plenty of other places to get story synopsis here, so I won't go into that. I thought the characters were interesting and there were a lot of interesting "things" going on in the background, however, the book lacked a real cohesive plot. I found myself way too many times while reading asking myself "what the heck is the story here." If you'll notice in reading the other reviews on Goodreads...well, there ISN'T really a story here. There could be--there were so many things the author set up as interesting, but just never follows through with any of them. There were often very interesting scenes, and the author has created interesting characters, but they don't really advance any sort of story.
This is another one of my favorites: Ryan, a shy guy in college studying insects, has the world's most useless power: he can turn into a fly.
He meets a lovely waitress who can make things vanish, and they begin a rather 20-something dynamic duet of righting of wrongs and fighting the big evils: like, say, patriarchy.
Flyboy and Miss Place, the hero and heroine's noms des plumes, set the tone to wit and sarcasm that I found really appealing, not to mention their "villains" (big banner ads, and/or the Sun newspaper). But then things take a very dark twist, the story grounds itself in reality not once, but twice, with grim all-too-true events in Ryan's life that leave you suddenly moved and treating the book less like fun and more like literature.
I think I picked this book by its title, and I had read a few superhero genre books before ("The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay" and "The Fortress of Solitude") so I was expecting much. I got less than much. Much less. So our superhero can turn into a fly and our superhero's friend can turn invisible and then our hero can turn into a bee instead of a fly and the book ends with a whimper instead of a bang. For a while there I would think, if I kill a fly I might be killing a person who can turn into a fly. Then, when the book started boring me I was quite glad to take that chance.
This tale is about a couple of Toronto hipsters who have superpowers. They form Superheroes for Social Justice, and fight against cigarette smoking, sexism, and draconian anti-drug laws. It's better than it sounds, but it's not great, unless, maybe, you live in Toronto and hang out with hipster types. I didn't hate it, but by the end I felt that the story violated an important rule of filmmaking: Show it, don't say it. The first person narrator spends too much time being introspective and telling us his feelings instead of letting us find out what he is feeling by the things he does. Maybe that's not a big deal, but it just didn't work out for me.
A novel about two young college students who discover they have super-powers -- well, he can turn into a fly, and she can make things disappear -- so they decide to adopt super-hero guises and fight crime. What's not to like? Unfortunately, a few things. The book has many fun moments, and the author turns a clever phrase now and then. Sadly, the crime fighting section of the book really disappointed me. Our heroes decide to take on the "evils" of modern society and fight against social injustice. (By taking down cigarette billboards, for example.) It gets pretty preachy at that point, and I felt like I was being talked down to. I really wanted to like this novel, but ultimately couldn't.
I really didn't expect to like this book as much as I did. I picked it up for practically free at a library fundraising sale, stuffed into my huge $5 bag sale bag.
Having had a slightly punk politically minded if not active stage in my late teens, I really related to and liked the characters. Their smart mouthed cynicism reflects people I know and love. And the scifi aspect is more fun than technical, never really explained because the characters themselves don't understand how they came to be the way they are.
Flyboy is a really fun, quick read. I will look for other books by this author.
I picked this book up several years ago because the title grabbed me. I read the inside flap and thought to myself that it sounded like the worst piece of crap I had come across. I started reading it to see just how terrible it was...and I finished it late that night because, to my surprise, it was pretty decent. This is a love story about two college age kids outside of society who join forces to combat evil. It is quite entertaining, pretty well-written, and makes you think about the society of today and what you would like that society to be like. Original and creative.
Two youngsters (Flyboy and Ms.Place) use their super powers to fight cigarette ads, unfair laws, and evil. The plot is sweet and simple; the characters are the main attraction of this book. Each character has their own interests and style of talking--even the protagonist's friend's rival gets character development. The dialog sounds like conversations I'd have myself, and the people talking sound like people I'd like to know. It's all in all a fabulous, energetic take on modern life.
The main character, a Gen-X/slacker Canadian college student, can turn into a fly. He falls in love with a waitress who also has an interesting talent - and they decide to start using their powers for good. It's definitely got a late 90's, college vibe to it, but the characters were well drawn and it was an interesting read. I think I downloaded it from manybooks.net, and I definitely got my money's worth from it.
I had just read a bunch of serious books, and it was looking for some light fiction. I found it. This was an off-beat story of two super heroes; one who can turn into a fly, and one who can make things disappear. They try to fight the forces of cigarette companies, anti-feminists, and pornographers while struggling to figure out their own personal issues at the same time. I enjoyed the Sailor Moon references.
I liked it, but I kept thinking that the main Character is someone who I just wouldn't like in real life. He's the kind of guy you might know from around and maybe have friends in common with, you wouldn't really have strong feelings about him but you'd find him slightly boring or annoying. Not the kind of character I could connect with.
I loaded this one onto my Palm and was reading it here and there on public transit. Easier to pull out than a book and lighter too. When real e-books happen, I will be on that bandwagon... Anyway, Flyboy was light and entertaining, with endearing characters, goofy and sweet. It was bizarre enough to keep me happy. Cute! (August 10, 2004)
This is one of those books that everyone I know as borrowed at on point or another, and they all love it. It's the story of a young man with the uncanny power to turn himself into a fly who falls in love with waitress who can make herself invisible and has a half alien child. It's witty and touching but never heavy handed or sappy.
I read this book YEARS ago and LOVED it. I decided Mike needed to read it, but totally could NOT rememeber the name of the book. after about an hour scouring the internets, I found it, and I just ordered another copy of it so Mike can read it (And probably Hann too!).
FYI: For Jawbreaker fans (the band!), there's totally reference to them in this book! WOOT!
here's a superhero book set in late 90's radical Toronto. it's satisfying to see my musings (what super power would you have?) play out in a world i love (direct actions, community spaces, punk rock, train hopping). what could we do if we had superhero help? thanks to the Berkeley public library staff picks shelf.
Couldn't put it down. I think this book bridges the genre gap from mainstream fiction to fantasy pretty well. The main character is totally believable, but he turns into a fly. Reading this, I learned something about the lives of flies and also about the Vancouver scene :)