I read A Dark Matter in 2011, and it was magnificent. In 2012, I revisited it from time to time, re-reading favorite scenes. These days, end of May – start of June 2013, I re-read it again from cover to cover. It’s still magnificent. It is not only awesome, it is awe-inspiring.
Let me rephrase that: I think this is the best English-speaking book written in the start of the 21-st century. Pre-WWII it was Fitzgerald, post WWII it was Kingsley Amis, post-2000 it’s Peter Straub with his Dark Matter. It’s not a Great American novel; it’s a Great Post-20th century novel, in the sense in which the 20th century starts in 1914 and ends in 2001. Or would have ended, had something taken its place, but that’s another question entirely, and possibly something has taken its place, only I’m too near to see it.
Anyway, it's certainly better than any mature Wolfe, or DeLillo, or Roth.
A Dark Matter is a fitting culmination, a summary, a final bow to the 20th century as it was perceived by those who lived it, and as it was presented by those who wrote of it and made music about it. It is also a love letter to literature itself, especially the one on the border between ‘ivory tower’ and ‘gutter’, the tense, unstable border region which generates new life forms.
A Dark Matter is, in a sense, The Great Gatsby of the early 21st century. Only richer and more layered. It does not have the linear driving energy of the young and the drunk and the Fitzgeralds, but so what. It has its own identity. It’s like Ross Macdonald didn’t spread his talent out on a score of private eye pulps, but concentrated it in one deliciously tangled and messy, yet disciplined and focused, meta-tale of life and love and survival.
I love the structure, the themes, the characters, and the language of A Dark Matter. I love the issue of genuine vs borrowed language; the issue of does authenticity make one a force of nature and does this mean an independent moral value; the issue of love, loyalty, and ‘down-to-earthness’. The issue of other worlds, be their forms ‘real’ or enforced by our inherited and learned matrixes, hovering on the edge of our shared trances. The issues of being one’s own parent and one’s own child.
I love the suspense, which is cerebral, not glandular. I love (and that goes for Mr. Straub's writing in general), how his‘horror’ is a magical, awe-inspiring symphony with elements of stunning beauty balancing the elements of unease. I never feel queasy when reading his books. I never feel a false note in the prose.
Alone of his generation of authors, Straub peaked now. In my opinion, of course. Graham Masterton and James Herbert peaked almost instantly, in the late 70’s. King and Koontz peaked in the late 80’s. McCammon peaked around 1990. But Straub…Straub reached his dazzling heights in 2010 with A Dark Matter. So subdued and elegant, that the world didn’t notice. Well, to hell with them. They’ll notice, when the time comes, when they’re ready.
I read a few criticisms of A Dark Matter in the sense of people dismissing it as a book based around a ‘bad acid trip’. Meh. All religions, philosophical schools, political and social movements, and every plot ever, can be reduced to ‘a good trip’ or ‘a bad trip’. And how does that help? How does that contribute? It only allows certain people to trumpet to the world ‘see how smart I am! How perceptive! Adore me, instead!’
I will not elaborate on the critics who thought the novel is too slow and too convoluted. Let them read their Patterson/Brown thrillers.
A Dark Matter is an event a bit like the invocation in the meadow described within. An event that changed the world, but only for a few seconds, and without anyone noticing.
Well, I noticed. Thank you very much, Mr. Straub.