Special Topics in Calamity Physics is one of those breathtakingly original debuts, written by an unbridled author feeling her oats for the first time, and by the time you're done reading it, it's hard to tell if it was really all that good or if you were just enjoying the ride; vicariously feeding off that youthful elan. Quick judgment: a fun ride that diminishes upon reflection (and yet, I can't deny the fun ride in the moment).
How are you planning to dispense your findings? Will we coauthor a book, entitled, say, Mixed Nuts: Conspiracies and Anti-American Dissidents in Our Midst or Special Topics in Calamity Physics, something with a bit of rumba to it. Or will you write a bestseller with all the names changed, the proverbial, 'Based on a true story', written on the first page to sell more copies?
After the death of her mother when she was five, Blue van Meer and her brilliant Poli-Sci Prof of a father Gareth spent her growing years on the road, moving from university town to university town, usually two and sometimes three per year. Along the way, they read everything from Greek tragedies to Hollywood biographies, and as a result, Blue (and her apparently eidetic memory) compiled a mental library of quotes and sources for any event – Driving with Dad wasn't cathartic, mind-freeing driving (see On the Road, Kerouac, 1957) – and as the prologue explains that Blue is driven to write of a seminal year in her life, as the daughter of an exacting Professor, the resulting book is crammed full of these citations (which at first feel clever, but unsurprisingly, eventually feel a little precious).
The year Blue wants to write about is her senior year of high school in Stockton, NC; the first time that her father had promised to stay in one place for her entire school year; ostensibly to help prepare Blue for Harvard. After Blue meets the mesmerising Hannah Schneider while out shopping, she is surprised to discover that the woman is actually a teacher at her school; even more surprised when the beautiful kids – known as the Bluebloods – who attend a salon at Hannah's every Sunday insist that she come along, too. For the first time in Blue's life, she's in with the in-crowd, and although these kids are out-of-control boozers and sex maniacs – and not always particularly kind to Blue – she's grateful for their friendship. About two-thirds of the way through the book, a tragedy occurs on a camping trip, and Special Topics in Calamity Physics takes a turn into mystery territory, with Blue acting as chief detective. Although in hindsight this is where the book was going all along, when Blue stopped remembering citations from books and started researching in “real time”, it felt to me that the energy left the story. And Gareth's response to the mystery so bothered me that my disappointment in the ending simply left a bad taste in my mouth.
And yet, I can't deny that author Marisha Pessl has a way with words, often using multiple metaphors to make a single point as in:
His face – rather his entire being – was a buttonhole: small, narrow, uneventful.Or:
Her tongue – bloated, the cherry pink of a kitchen sponge – slumped from her mouth. Her eyes looked like acorns, or dull pennies, or two black buttons off an overcoat kids might stick into the face of a snowman.And while that sometime felt like a bit too much, I was often completely charmed by Pessl's imagination:
He was staring at me with his eyes the color of a kiddie pool (blue, green, suspicious hints of yellow).So, the long version is pretty much the same as the short version: I enjoyed reading this but think that it could have been a great book with someone leaning over Pessl's shoulder saying, “Maybe cut out a little here and hold back a little there.” I remember enjoying Night Film very much and am looking forward to whatever Pessl dreams up next.
For two totally different takes on Special Topics in Calamity Physics, here's a glowing review from The New York Times and a dissenting opinion from Slate.
