A twelve-year-old boy, middle son in a wealthy, politically and culturally prominent San Francisco family, watches his city disappear in the earthquake and fires of 1906. His father him that nothing has been lost that cannot be swiftly and easily replaced. He quotes Virgil: “Nothing unreal is allowed to survive.” The boy turns this stark Stoic philosophical “consolation” into the radical theater practices of the day, in the course of which he involves himself with radical labor struggles: anarchists, Wobblies, socialists of every stripe. He learns that politics is meta-acting, and he and his girlfriend—a Connecticut mill girl who is on the verge of national recognition as a spokesperson for workers—embark on a speaking tour with a Midwestern anti-railroad, pro-farmer group and take their political, philosophical, and artistic ethos to the farthest limits of the real and the unreal, where they find there is no useful distinction between the two.
Would make a very good movie. The humanity is hidden by a stageyness. The topics of dialogue is uninteresting, dry—reminiscent of old school dramatic dialogue. Words coming from a mind without a heart—an intellectual understanding of drama. Too caught up in its ideas, leaving nothing between the lines. The events aren’t fascinating enough. The opening isn’t fascinating at all. A wasted obsession over a childish viewpoint inspired by theatre. But it plummets more when someone starts quoting a life-outlook questionnaire throughout an entire domestic scene. Something that would happen in a play, but is dead on the page. Especially because the dialogue happening around it is less interesting. When the quoted questionnaire should be constant-power comic relief in the background of a more serious discussion, instead it is the focus of it.
It might change someone’s life. It’s not bad. It’s shallow by comparison to everything good. Where is the beating heart?
I'll be honest. When I started this book I didn't expect to like it. Privileged kid has one bad experience, has debates with his family just to irritate them, then meets a girl who introduces him to a new way of thought. Sounds a little paint by numbers but I promise, this is actually a very good read. This book is deep, intelligent, and well... just very entertaining. Themes of love and loss, mental health, and political ideologies abound. Personally, the parts I found most interesting were the ultra complicated "love story" between Charles and Vera, and the thought patterns that the book followed concerning domestic terrorism and how people come to accept and/or engage in it.