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frasersimons 's review for:
J R
by William Gaddis
Video review: https://youtu.be/6I5FTLaVmIA
The plot is very simple, really. Though it is and it isn’t what JR is about. A young, 11 year-old boy goes on a field trip and as a educational outing, every kid purchases $1 in stock. JR leverages that stock, and through a series of loop holes and above-board legalities, ends up creating an empire. Almost a mega corporation. Though not quite. Every other character essentially comes to work for the boy, knowingly or otherwise, though they all think they’re engaging in their own business.
I have a lot to say on this one. Basically, I see it a very biting and angry text, one that does it level best to elicit that frustration presumably the author feels with capitalism directly into the text. And it worked. For me, at least.
2/3 of it is dialogue and it doesn’t use dialogue tags as you might expect. Rather there is verbal ticks and a probably unusual amount of name referencing. But it feels very organic, even as everyone is talking over someone else. It’s also very explicit in what it’s about. Satirical on both a macro and micro level. Characters will just lay it out there. What isn’t being said—literally—is that each, in every situation, is in a conflict that is unceasing and present in every granular interaction.
The idea of artistic freedom and the nourishment it affords, versus the systemic pieces of capitalism moving against those endeavours and people. Crucially, every person is a proponent of one or the other, depending on the situation. Music is often used as a short hand to show that, essentially, people are either a part of the symphonic music as artists, or they are merely noise. Interrupting, repeating, grating, nailing, penetrating noise. They halt all thought. All progress.
In the end, every character is nuanced and contradictory. A part of the system that continues to manufacture and co-opt people into the components capitalism requires to survive and propagate itself. Best we can hope for is recognizing it, making fun of it, cease to be The Noise.
The granular humour is less of interest to me. Dick and fart jokes to more high brow stuff. The incredible thing about the novel is the marriage of form and structure and the way dialogue functions completely differently. It’s an accomplishment. I respected the frustrating parts because the point was to elicit frustration. Not every reader is going to feel that way. Boy, was it grating until it came together. But it did. It’s a 4.5 rounded up.
The plot is very simple, really. Though it is and it isn’t what JR is about. A young, 11 year-old boy goes on a field trip and as a educational outing, every kid purchases $1 in stock. JR leverages that stock, and through a series of loop holes and above-board legalities, ends up creating an empire. Almost a mega corporation. Though not quite. Every other character essentially comes to work for the boy, knowingly or otherwise, though they all think they’re engaging in their own business.
I have a lot to say on this one. Basically, I see it a very biting and angry text, one that does it level best to elicit that frustration presumably the author feels with capitalism directly into the text. And it worked. For me, at least.
2/3 of it is dialogue and it doesn’t use dialogue tags as you might expect. Rather there is verbal ticks and a probably unusual amount of name referencing. But it feels very organic, even as everyone is talking over someone else. It’s also very explicit in what it’s about. Satirical on both a macro and micro level. Characters will just lay it out there. What isn’t being said—literally—is that each, in every situation, is in a conflict that is unceasing and present in every granular interaction.
The idea of artistic freedom and the nourishment it affords, versus the systemic pieces of capitalism moving against those endeavours and people. Crucially, every person is a proponent of one or the other, depending on the situation. Music is often used as a short hand to show that, essentially, people are either a part of the symphonic music as artists, or they are merely noise. Interrupting, repeating, grating, nailing, penetrating noise. They halt all thought. All progress.
In the end, every character is nuanced and contradictory. A part of the system that continues to manufacture and co-opt people into the components capitalism requires to survive and propagate itself. Best we can hope for is recognizing it, making fun of it, cease to be The Noise.
The granular humour is less of interest to me. Dick and fart jokes to more high brow stuff. The incredible thing about the novel is the marriage of form and structure and the way dialogue functions completely differently. It’s an accomplishment. I respected the frustrating parts because the point was to elicit frustration. Not every reader is going to feel that way. Boy, was it grating until it came together. But it did. It’s a 4.5 rounded up.