Minivan Consumes Fourteen Krispy Kremes, While in the Shadow of Death, the Marquis de Sade Can Only Wring His hands and Wonder
A couple of news flashes for you before we get to the next chapter of Rick Moody’s novel, The Diviners. Lit bloggers are astir at the latest LBC Read This! selection. The winner is Steve Stern for The Angel of Forgetfulness. The LBC also announced a series of runnerup discussions. I like the sound of that. Tingle Alley and Rake’s Progress have been kicking around People of Paper for the past week or so. Speaking of the Rake, Trevor wrote an excellent review of The Diviners, giving me cover to write a far less conventional or even appropriate review wherein chapters of the novel are discussed.
Let’s take the Minivan chapter. Minivan is a person, Vanessa Meandro, head of Means of Production, a film company based in Manhattan. Vanessa suffers from an eating disorder, attends classes to address her inner child, then launches herself on a mad tour of Krispy Kreme outlets from the concourse beneath the Twin Towers all the way uptown to 125 th Street. She’s pursued by a car service driver, a Sikh, who sees Vanessa as the embodiment of immigrant aspirations, dazzled by her presence, inflamed by her proximity to the world of movies, a world that governs all other worlds, a celluloid vision of perfection. Vanessa, frightened by his attentions, enlists the aid of a Hispanic cab driver who racks up over fifty bucks on the meter, including wait time. He isn’t very impressed with the ministrations of the Sikh, but fifty bucks is fifty bucks.
This is Minivan’s morning: Mom, Rosa, trapped in the crapper in a rising tide of excrement, refuses to come out, unlock her door, obey Minivan’s terse instructions. Car service from Brooklyn, detailed instructions to the Sikh, exit FDR at 42nd only to double back to 14th for class. Pays off Sikh, listens to former super model on the subject of obesity, flees class, hops a cab for the Twin Towers to begin the frantic search for the perfect glazed donut.
Here’s what I love about this chapter: I’ve never had a morning like this. I’ve never eaten fourteen donuts in preparation for lunch, never abandoned a Sikh on University Avenue and was struck by Moody’s observation that the Twin Towers huddled together like lonely people at the tip of the island. So far, three chapters in, this book is a blast. Oh yeah, I almost forgot to mention The Marquis de Sade. He’s the inspiration for a screenplay, penned in secret by Minivan’s svelte assistant. She gets involved with an actor, the rise of Attila, the collapse of Western Civilization and children who gather at the gates of CBGB.