by Ara 13
ages: adult
First sentence: “While in the cavalier guardianship of the forest of Marlay, I first saw the lowland tapir.”
Review copy sent to me by a publicist.

I’ll be honest: I married a guy who thinks a lot. In fact, his whole PhD and first five years of teaching was mostly teaching about thinking. And philosophizing. And thinking about philosophizing. Me, on the other hand: I’m a tactile person. I think, sure (even critically sometimes), and I like discussing ideas as much as the next person (well, maybe not every next person). But, honestly, when I’m reading, I like to lose myself in the work, to enjoy the ride, to escape.

Which means: I. Didn’t. Get. This. Book. Metafiction, which I am told this book is an example of, eludes me.

I did get bits and snatches of the plot — and while there was a plot that I was getting bits and snatches of, I enjoyed it — which basically went like this: Daniel is a priest, who decides to go into the jungle to convert the “savages” to the Gospel. However, when he gets there, he discovers that the “savages” are actually very sophisticated, and already have a religion. One that’s based on a picture book — Alice in Wonderland, of all books — that has been handed down for generations. This sends Daniel into a tailspin of doubt, especially when a couple of the natives take his example and decide to become missionaries himself.

The problem with the story is not the plot, it’s the narrative. It was odd. Very odd. (And not funny odd.) Sometimes it was funny. But mostly, it was rambling, shifting, and very confusing (at least to me). The narrative voice would shift from one person to the next, and the narrative would simply stop and switch to one of a number of sub-plots, which were confusing and led nowhere.

That said, I think the end is the key:

I’ve decided to set aside my fear of sounding trite and to leave you with a kernel of wisdom, one simple verb: Read… And look beyond the culturally ascribed worth of the artifact. Often, the value may be a lesson contrary to what is apparent or universally believed…. Scoff not at fictions merely on account of their fabrications. Nonfiction too is manufactured, therefore subject to the same human imperfections upon production, relieving no reader of the onus of deciding that which is sound judgment. So, digest not only fact; read fiction. Certainly there is much to gain from the made-up as well as the real. The lessons learned and the consequential defenses taken to avoid life’s miseries do not diminish in value because of their source.

There you have it. Metafiction. I just wish it made more sense.