Top positive review
One person found this helpful
on 9 January 2016
20 years since I first read this. 20 years that have vanished before I even thought about them starting....so many lifetimes..lovers, children, divorce, careers, loss, fortune, the town and the city and all the spaces in between, my babies become teenagers and I move to grey and a nagging/boring obsession with my waist size..I have memories of this book: beautiful and simple and elegant and moving and spiritual with a small 's'..and I've recommended and bought this for so many that I wanted to see if it still means what it did.
It does. Coupland still makes me smile in ways I only recognise when I read him; ("he was so curious to know what being shot would be like. To facilitate shooting he would always wear his shirts wide open at the chest, like a 1976 person"), ("there were no clean spoons around the house so I ate cottage cheese with a plastic tortoiseshell shoehorn that was lying next to the couch - so I guess I've hit a new personal low"), and now gives me that added ache of nostalgia..the saddest of the loss emotions. This has the strange comfort of a Hold Steady song - reminding me somehow of a time long since passed, or the smell of my favourite Chivas Regal 25, and could make me cry on a deeper, more pale afternoon. Tempting to be cynical of course..Coupland with his oh so meaningful 20 something generation little baby nothing small life lessons, and too cool for school ain't I tortured and interesting characters, but that would mean reading this with head not heart and there are plenty of other reading experiences for that. These are snatches of meaningless conversations, (like most words exchanged), sketches of moods ("..summer was over. The cold air sparkled and the maples leaves were rotting, putting forth their lovely reek, like dead pancakes."), the nuclear dead speaking after their everyday mundane flashpoint deaths in shopping malls, offices and hair salons, and clever little metaphors ("counting the Rothkos of skid marks of long-dead car collisions on Interstate 15's white cement lanes").
Some days we need to disappear into a foggy world of dreams, and not return to this, our real world. Life After God allowed me that opportunity today. I slipped through, just for a couple of hours..slipped my own chains. In the words of another great Canadian: "only love can break your heart".
"Time is how the trees grow. I will fall asleep for a thousand years, and when I wake, a mighty spruce tree will have raised me up high, high into the sky"