Since House of God, Shem’s debut, is one of my favourite novels ever, and I recently went through Mount Misery, I’ve been excited for this one.
It’s an imperfect book, in some ways. There are too many names, acronyms, and references to the past, though on this last point Shem does a fairly good job helping people who haven’t read HoG and Mount Misery get up to speed. But it’s hard to track who is who, and especially hard for someone who doesn’t live in the US, ie: this guy, understand various convoluted aspects of the American health care system.
Structurally, the novel is a curious mix of the episodic, with several larger plot strands upon which said episodes hang like clothespins on a wire. Shem’s pretty adept working like this - the two previous novels I mentioned have similar structures, though House of God has FAR fewer characters, and does a better job of gradually teaching you hot to read it.
Another curious aspect of the novel is it feels, I don’t know, slightly dated in its vernacular. Sometimes the characters speak in a kind of weirdly antiquated way, if the 70s could be called antiquity. The attempts to capture accents can be annoying, too. Especially the Irish. This is another holdover from another era - the satirical push that doesn’t quite fit what’s going on in literature and culture right now.
To pivot to the novel’s strengths, the return of the Fat Man is a definite plus. And the end is very, very moving.
Like its predecessors, the novel effectively exposes the flaws in both the medical system and, more pleasing to me, the flaws in the ways we interact, and are in some ways enslaved, by technology.
Berry, Roy’s partner, is into Buddhism and meditation but finds herself just as controlled by her “I”-phone as the staff at Man’s 4th Best are by the insane computer programs they have to spend hours trying to master.
Berry is an interesting character - at times she seems like one of these archetypal ‘new age’ spirit ladies who can’t help but make everything about mindfulness and self-actualization and so on and so forth. Shem is probably right that this kind of thing needs more of a place in medicine, in a Jon Kabatt-Zinn kind of way. But I think culturally I’ve been so pummelled by the messaging that Berry kind of annoys me sometimes.
Roy does too, don’t get me wrong. But it’s clear I’m supposed to be annoyed by Roy, who, in a delightful twist, is famous for having written a book not unlike House of God, in which he himself starred.
I’m not sure where I rank this novel.
Since it deals so much with insurance, and billing systems, and problems that someone who deals with the American health care system on a regular basis, and since I find this stuff slightly tedious and unrelated to my life as a non-American, the novel feels weighed down to me.
On the other hand, I love these characters, have grown with Roy and longed for a return of Fats to my life. The end is very lovely, and the book is indisputably filled with much wisdom.
This, I think, outweighs its flaws.