I found out about this book when it first came out in 2002 while I was browsing the awesome books coming out of HarperCollins and Random House and their assorted satellite divisions — it seems you could spit and hit one at any given time. Shoot, just the idea that it’s a story about a dude allergic to EVERYTHING, and is stuck in his mother’s house for 25 years is crazy. The television, the internet, and his friends are his only points of reference to the outside world — it’s quite pitiful when you think about formulating oneself based on the characters from Friends. He is dying to go outside, but might die if he sets foot outside is a dichotomy that smells of dysfunction, internal (body, mind, soul) and external (family dynamics, society, environment). I found it highly hilarious that his friends want to help him go out by making a spacesuit for him — the absurdity of the idea is outrageous; the trip to Wales to see a Taoist healer is a journey to Oz. Well, after reading a sample of the first chapter, it was definitely my kind of book and Scarlett herself, my kind of author. So I put it on the mental want to read list, but lost track of the all-important Post-It along the way (I hate when that happens.) Thankfully, I kept remembering that Scarlett was out there and I did the typical thing that always drives me nuts when other people do it (being a former book-slinger, I can’t even begin to tell you how annoying it is to play “guess what book I’m looking for” based on the color of the book cover.) Forgetting the author’s last name (who can forget a first name like Scarlett? I didn’t.) The name of the book eluded me too. Whatever, I’m only human. The overall idea of the book and her writing style stuck with me. Then finally — while recently browsing around for something new to read (even tho’ my stack of TO READ is like a mile high, I just have to be in the right frame of mind to read what’s there, dig?) So anyway, drawing on my Google Kung-fu skills, I was able to find Going Out, and started reading it practically out of the box. What a fun little book! Books about journeys and misfits can be hysterically funny and heartwarming, there is always the potential to tip into frustration and wallowing in the dark side of things, especially when the characters are crippled by their fears, but this one didn’t go to that grim place, it didn’t need to — Scarlett kept it light-hearted with the right amount of tension at the right points of time to allow the reader to enjoy the ride and absorb what’s going on without becoming punch drunk from chronic stunning events. I loved the overall dry humor, subtle and endearing, accessible — perfect pitch, reflecting on ourselves as humans and where we are at a point of time — and over ten years later the story still resonates. Beware, there are a few things that will make me drop an F-bomb before 8 AM and this is one of them. Society as a whole just can’t get it together, not everyone pours into the mold of perfection. Seriously, we human’s fuck ourselves up so much, we should laugh at ourselves for being so dang stupid. It’s whatever that’s inside us that does the crippling — our parents, siblings, a spouse, a friend, a teacher, or someone else who has power over us, or the strict parameters of ideology often give a hand to enable our weaknesses and fears, and the expectations of society is a pressure that manipulates us into believing we’re not right or no damn good unless we conform, and we (the individual) willingly tether ourselves to the convoluted notions that we can’t do something, rather than trying to do something we want to do, and wasting much of our time failing miserably at the stuff expected of us — what the fuck, right? It makes my head hurt. I know that I’ve done my fair share of crippling myself and that’s my own damn fault no one else's — sometimes it takes years for a person to realize this (if they ever do), but once you do, it’s very liberating. You have to be brave to do the things you gotta do for yourself, say ‘fuck you’ to the standardized cookie cutter life — go out there and be happy, damn it.
Going out. Getting out.
Run out screaming into the sunshine…
Going Out is an appealing, approachable book, I’m so happy to have found it (I understand it’s been hard to find.) It could’ve been a much darker story, but it was treated with a compassionate hand, which makes it right — with that said, readers should mind their expectations, trust the author to guide them through the tale, Scarlett Thomas is a very capable guide through the reading journey. I’m glad to have another prolific writer to collect.