Fiction. Revolution rocks and rolls. An ex-tv star seizes power and tries to turn daily life into an endless film. TEMPORARY PEOPLE is a political fable of the first order. Set on the island of Bamerita, a country whose "history is like the rim of a wheel made to turn round and round, our political cycles nothing if not redundant," Gillis' third novel, following Walter Falls and The Weight of Nothing , TEMPORARY PEOPLE explores the human condition in all its most vulnerable exposures. A brilliant send up of modern life turned inside out by the inescapable powers of history and fate, filled with pathos and humor, Gillis deftly explores the complexities of survival and choice in a world perpetually on the verge of going mad. Sharp and satirical, a breathtakingly paced romp, the end will leave you drop-jawed and wanting more. TEMPORARY PEOPLE is a book for the ages and once again Gillis delivers.
A bit like Mario Vargas Llosa War at the End of the World. Good overall. More specifics in writing in the next novel will take this writer to the next level of master like MVL. For example."doing chores..." >>> baling hay and milking cows and shoveling manure.
Years ago, I saw a Jim Carrey movie called “The Truman Show.” It was about a man whose entire life, unbeknownst to him, played out on a movie stage while the rest of the world watched. Steven Gillis’s novel, “Temporary People,” reminded me of that movie … only with a much darker palette of colors. Much darker. Add a touch of the surreal, and you have Gillis, likened to Kurt Vonnegut by some (and I would agree with the comparison).
“Temporary People” is called a fable by the author, explaining the designation in the first pages of his unfolding story, in which the island of Bamerita, floating unattached some 2,000 miles south of Iceland, has become a movie set directed by a madman, called Teddy Lamb a.k.a the General:
“The scenes for Teddy’s movie are shot out of sequence and no one can say for certain what the film’s about. Even when the soldiers come and order us into our costumes, we’re not shown a script. At best, we hear rumors that the movie’s a multi-generational saga weaved through the telling and retelling of a 3,000 year old fable. The focus of the fable changes, however, each time the rumor’s repeated. Teddy reviews all the daily rushes, assesses the caliber of our performance. Everyone’s uneasy about how they appear. The perception we give is not always intended. Our fear isn’t artistic but rather a concern for our safety. In evaluating the scenes, Teddy’s impatient with people who disappoint him. Those found deficient are removed from the film and rarely heard from again. ‘That,’ Teddy says, ‘is show biz.’”
Under this guise of movie-making, Teddy rules as a slaughtering dictator would, even while doing so with a perverted sense of humor. Madness, if you will. The previous government officials are filmed as they are tied to logs, then pulled in two, set to float on the ocean waves. The population of Bamerita falls quietly into place after that. Until, of course, they rise to revolt. As any population, given time and wearing away of patience with brutality, will. A crew of “actors,” i.e. citizens, take the lead, with characters such as Andre Mafante, an insurance salesman who tries to promote non-violent means of revolt, and his friend, Emilo, whose rebelliousness culminates in sewing his own ears, eyes and mouth shut. One of Gillis’s most disturbing scenes is when Teddy torments Emilo into unwilling laughter and pained screams, effectively tearing up his stitched mouth into meaty shreds.
The satire is effective. Gillis is successful in painting the madness, the irrational behavior of an oppressive government, the mass fear in response, and the distortion of reality that taking away basic liberties must involve when one manipulates the many. If this echoes of current political scenarios, it should. In his characters, Gillis illustrates different forms of resistance and rebellion: indifference, self-serving cowardice, passive and active resistance, heroic if perhaps misguided protest and bloody coups. All done with a touch of Hollywood.
Steven Gillis is the author of two prior novels and has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize six times. He has also published a story collection and has a second one due out in 2009. Gillis is co-founder of Dzanc Books (in partnership with Dan Wickett), with all proceeds from his publications going to Dzanc.
It's a dark tale, but it's well-written. The setting is set beautifully, the characters are complex and alive. The prose is engaging. It was a great read.
I stumbled upon a copy of this book after making a donation to Dzanc Books on Kellie Wells’ behalf for a contest she was participating in. I chose it mainly because of its subtitle, “A Fable.” I’m a sucker for fables. I began reading it with few expectations about what kind of story it is or whether it would be one I’d like, but a few dozen pages into it, I found myself pleasantly surprised. The book got better and better as I proceeded, and once I was in the second half, it whizzed by. I found myself truly caring about the characters; the plot was gripping; it was, ultimately, a moving and authentic tale that gives a human dimension to political unrest (which is so easy to dismiss, portrayed as it often is with such sterile journalistic distance).
Unfortunately, the copy I had was rife with editing errors—though I suspect it was the result of some word-recognition software converting a pdf to ebook format, maybe. There were weird spaces in the middle of words (ar resting) and repeat lines and small punctuation errors in dialogue (“No guards,” Kart handed one sack each to Verne and Anita). Minor stuff, but pretty off-putting.
I had a few other quibbles with the delivery of the story, though. First off, there was the matter of the POV switching from first person (in the voice of protagonist Andre Mafante) to third person omniscient. I’m all for POV experimentation, but this one seemed a bit unnecessary and distracting, especially when the writing moved from 1st person to 3rd person description of the 1st person protagonist (all on the same page), as it did here:
The Captain signals and the guards rush in and drag me off. (. . . a paragraph later:) Once the rally collapsed into riot, as the soldiers drove André off and Katima saw only his legs in the rear of the jeep, she ran from the Port up and down the streets, trying to follow. (65)
Secondly, there’s some pretty blatant and unapologetic withholding of information without a clear purpose, a tactic that leaves me feeling cheated. The author sets up a scene wherein a plan is being hatched, then skips over the plan and goes straight to the reaction: “After he told me, I put my hat back on, pushed my sunglasses up over the bridge of my nose and replied as calmly as possible. ‘This is what you’ve come up with?’”
Third, there’s a pretty huge cast of characters. Sometimes, the names are even quite similar (Anita, Tamina, Katima?), but more problematic were those who were mentioned briefly and infrequently (Milton Jabber, Everett Doyle). I found myself sometimes wondering, “When is that doctor guy going to come back into the story?” or “Wait. Everett Doyle? Who is he again? Should we dislike him?”
Fourth, there’s the matter of this tale’s setting out to be a somewhat quirky, magical realist story and ending up being neither. The whole thing takes place on Bamerita, an island that floats around the Atlantic Ocean—a cool premise and all, but one that isn’t matched by other fantastical quirks. So in the end, the island’s floating is this isolated bit of fantasy in an otherwise realist world. True, the dictator’s film-making hobby is a bit too odd to be authentic, but unlike the island’s floatiness, the film-making thing continually reappears throughout the story and provides a pretty ingenious commentary on manipulating the message, on making a farce of state-sponsored brutality, on commercializing culture and the human struggle for survival.
Ultimately, my quibbles are with small things. I finished the book moved by the authentic portrayal of oppression and rebellion, and pondering the morality of violent and nonviolent uprising.
Temporary People by Steven Gillis is one of the best fiction novels published over the last few years. -- Lena Vanelslander, Bustill
As thoroughly dark and thoroughly humane as Vonnegut's apocalyptic novels like Cat's Cradle and Galapagos, Temporary People is a suspenseful tale about history, hope, oppression, and modes of resistance. Gillis's world is richly imagined, his voice is clear, and his plot is intricate, as is his moral. In fact, this novel seems much more interested in probing and dramatizing the deep phil osophical paradoxes of revolutionary thought than in providing any pat answer. Here's a fable for our time, and for just about any other time you can imagine. -- Chris Bachelder, author of U.S.!
Minimalist-cum-fabulist Steven Gillis synthesizes nearly every Twentieth Century calamity from World War II to the Balkans to Desert Storm into this fable of the oppressed country Bamerita, which drifts about the seas unhinged from any continent. His idealistic and erudite hero finds his peaceful revolution thwarted and contemplates the holes in Gandhi's many aphorisms while his people are mutilated in grand spectacle on film. Temporary People is a vicious and compelling storyboard for our time. -- Jeff Parker, author of Ovenman
Temporary People, the latest novel from Steven Gillis, is a dizzying display of genre-bending delight. Blending fantasy, literary fiction, and sharp social satire, the book is as refreshing a novel I have read all year. -- David Gutowski, Large Hearted Boy
Gillis is successful in painting the madness, the irrational behavior of an oppressive government, the mass fear in response, and the distor tion of reality that taking away basic liberties must involve when one manipulates the many. -- Zinta Aistars, Zinta Reviews
It's remarkable how believably Gillis' short novel renders the politics, history, and culture of his invented island nation of Bamerita. The story is full of heartbreaking frustrations, unexpected twists, and inevitable disasters, all of which make it a fast-paced, riveting read without getting bogged down in the minutia of worldbuilding. Yet there's a great sense of a longer history on the island, both nationally and for individual characters, so the efficient focus on immediate events never feels limited or artificial, and the novel never becomes a straight recounting of the island's complex history.
In fact, it's when the "real" gets inserted that the story sometimes becomes less believable, because references to and quotes from historical revolutionaries can feel like authorial insertions rather than a character's own organic perspective (less specific allusions, however, to historical events from Cuba to Iraq, were really effective and natural). I wondered if there was room here to borrow a page from Kenneth Fearing's Clark Gifford's Body (another multivocal portrait of an imagined revolution with media technology at its center), because one thing that novel does really well is weave in history, "found" documents, and the details of technology so they always feel like part of the story rather than commentary from the author. Not to say that Temporary People shouldn't be the novel it is, because it's a really good one - just that the comparison to Fearing was hard to avoid.
An excellent satire in line with the better works of Vonnegut, it starts quickly with the light and airy feel of the fable it purports to be, but then descends just as quickly beyond even tragicomic in to legitimate darkness, providing sobering thoughts on violence and how it is inflicted in war, and how the desire for peace can be, in some situation, lacking. The only issue I had was that the story was overpopulated. With so many characters presented in minimalist style, I was forced to repeatedly flip back through pages to remind myself exactly who a particular character was. The secondary players were not fleshed out enough, or dealt with long enough, for them to take hold as individuals in my mind. It's a small criticism, and I mention more as a learning experience about craft more than a serious downside of the novel.
Temporary People is a novel about a fictitious country run by a crazed dictator who not only makes everyone's lives miserable, but forces them to dress up in costumes and "act" for a movie.
The idea was interesting, but this really felt like more of a first draft than a completed novel. There were a lot of grammatical mistakes, (past used for passed, angle for angel, using the possessive apostrophe instead of the word is), but there was also a lot of plot holes, far too many characters and not enough development.