Not So Brief, and Far From Wondrous

There was the hope that literary fiction, post-colonial literature, and science fiction could come together in a brilliant – perhaps wondrous – way. Junot Díaz tempts us with such a possibility – a gorgeous portrayal of a life that is both real and yet, by it's very nature, fantastical. In a way, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao manages this task.

But there is the part of me that feels let down. The picture the catalog-copy paints is one of a single hero, struggling to live up to the ideals that he reads about as the consummate fan-boy. I acknowledge this struggle may be subtle – that he might possibly lose -- but there's nothing disappointing about that. Heck, I concede that Díaz was not specifically writing science fiction – he's using it as an allusion, an analogy. As he writes: “What's more sci-fi than the Dominican Republic?”

Apparently everything.

In its Otherness, I can see what he's trying to point out. An evil, monstrous dictator who is both omniscient and terrible – yes, I can see a Trujillo/Sauron comparison. But, the fact is, Sauron is an idea born from reality, Trujillo is the reality (not that Sauron is based on Trujillo specifically, but on the many dictators throughout history). The power of science fiction isn't to create monsters – it's to tame them. To escape them, defeat them, or at worst, literally close the book on them: allowing their victory in return for the solace of the illusionary safety of our reality.

Díaz, in essence, does the opposite of science fiction. Sci-fi isn't the suspension of disbelief, but rather the creation of belief. When successful – always an important step – sci-fi draws its reader in, regardless of the unbelievable nature, alien races, or paranormal systems. Díaz does draw you in – he's a fine writer – but he doesn't create belief in the Dominican Republic. If anything, the world he points out is unnatural to us, and perhaps too much so. And, ironically, the problem isn't that Trujillo isn't a monster, but rather that he's painted as both a “monster” and a Monster: a human devoid of humanity and a being is so completely without definition that it's impossible to come to grips with him.

I think what also hurts is the lack, not of a hero – many sci-fi works lack heroes – but of a protagonist. Because Oscar is not the center of the story. If there was a protagonist, it would be his whole family, but that doesn't completely compute, either, because they are often at odds with each other. There is a focus on Oscar, but the book is more the story of his past (and his family's past). Much of the action centers outside of Oscar's sphere (and, as is the case with his mother's story) his time). But, unlike the adventuring parties in science fiction , this cast of characters does not does not work in conjunction with each other, and their goals are very different. Overall, the book fails in creating incredibly sympathetic characters.

On a more personal note: I wanted more geek! There's something ego-boosting about being shouted out in by an artist, whether it's a band screaming out the name of the city they happen to be playing in or an author mentioning things that you can connect with. When I first read the description of The Brief Wondrous Life, I thought it was going to be an homage to all things nerdy. I was ready and willing to smile every time I could say: Hey, I know that reference! Instead, what we were thrown were little dork-tidbits surrounding a meaty-core of post-colonial burger. And that saddens me a bit.

This isn't a terrible book. Most people I have encountered who have also read it have loved it. But I might be too much a part of the world Díaz is describing. No, I'm not Dominican, but I have read a great deal in the genre. And then, of course, I was raised in the science fiction genre. In writing a hybrid, Díaz has the freedom of picking and choosing the best of the many genres he wishes to sample, but also has to contend with the fans of those disparate works. In the end, Díaz's experiment falls short of coming together as a whole, and that's so disappointing for a book that I approached with such high expectations.

Makes me happy I borrowed it instead of buying. So do yourself a favor, patronize your local library, but keep the book from permanent residence on your shelves.