Les Jeux sont faits

Absurdistan

Gary Shteyngart

Random House

I know, I know ... it's been awhile since I've posted anything. The only thing that I can say in my defense is that I haven't really been reading. And yes, before you loyal (and slightly odd) blog followers deluge me with emails and comments, I will admit that me not reading is a little bizarre. Don't panic -- it's not a sign of the Apocalypse or anything. I've just been busy. You know, working, vacationing, commuting to hell, er, I mean Ottawa. Takes a lot out of a girl.

So let's talk about Absurdistan. This novel was a sometimes biting, always over-the-top satire of twenty first century geo-politics. At the centre of the story is (anti) hero Misha Borisovich Vainberg, a grossly rich and obscenely overweight Russian hip-hop fop. Misha, who received a degree in multiculturalism from Accidental College in Middle America, has been exiled from his beloved United States (his father killed an Oklahoman) and he decides to travel to Absurdsvani to obtain a not-so-legitimate Belgian passport so he can become a citizen of the EU. While there, Absurdistan descends into an oil-fueled civil war (that only gets meager coverage by the international media) and our hero has to sort out the good guys from the bad guys.

While most reviewers have firmly positioned Shteyngart's work as a satiric exemplar worthy of Swift or Heller, I think it has more in common with French absurdist/existentialist plays. To my mind, the basic message of the text is that we live in a world where morality and truth do not (perhaps cannot) exist. Like Misha, however, we are responsible for our choices and must absurdly create morality even though we can never be sure of the implications of our actions. Three melancholic Sisyphus out of five.