Not a Review of “PLZ ADVISE: A Novel” by Josh Spilker
In lieu of reviewing a paperback novel I recently ordered via Amazon Prime, I am posting a recording of my reading “Question 2,” a short section in the novel. Purchasing Spilker’s novel in paperback opens access to the Kindle version at no extra charge. I normally would have waited to read the paperback; however, COVID-19 has delayed Prime shipping up to 7–9 days. Entire cargo ships shipping brand new cargo ships (Ship-shipping ships shipping ships) can cross large oceans in roughly the same amount of time. I considered this fact and factored in my desire to have everything I want to read available right now. I made an executive decision to begin reading the novel in the digital format, which lead to my recording a portion of the novel so that I could listen to it as well.
I have not done Spilker’s dry, non-sardonic (but kinda sardonic) tone a favor with this reading. I am however pleased to report that the word simulacrum is used later in the novel. Spilker is not unaware of the influence of the ultra-meta on 21st Century American fiction. An heirloom from the postmodern heyday of work by Delillo, Gaddis, Pynchon, Atwood, Egan, Eggars, and Wallace. And like Delillo’s Professor Murray at College-on-the-Hill in “White Nose,” the protagonist of “PLZ Advise,” Josh, is also an American Studies scholar. Art and life imitate each other.
And whatever Josh (the character) does with his time outside of the narrative is left for the reader to decide; the vacation eventually ends. However, it would not be a far stretch to think that he is at least considering an extended thesis on the photo prop roller coaster cart at Coney Island. This is a defining scene in the novel: The place the novel approaches the philosophical with as much reluctance as a hyper-realist can exercise. Even stark realism cannot avoid the temptation to wax philosophically on the nature of human experience via the mundane. A beach, a hotdog, an old roller coaster. And for good reason. It is now safe to say that we have transcended the idea of the postmodern photo-op as event. Not only does the smartphone photograph allow us to see the Coney Island Cyclone or Thunderbolt as a memory, the Instagram upload now allows us (and our followers) to actually experience the thrill of riding an iconic American roller coaster… by way of a stationary prop. And in true American thrifty fashion, we do not even have to pay the $8. Josh saves his $8.
***In “White Noise,” Murray was wrong about the ‘Most Photographed Barn in America’. We have rebuilt the barn one IG heart/like at a time. And Josh realizes the special importance of Coney Island IG posts this way, as if the motionless, snow-globe-like amusement park contains in itself the kernel of all roller coasters and Ferris wheels in North America, or like Facebook is an actual place where people gather. Digital mediation, for Josh, is the conduit through which life is accessed, processed, and stored. It is the $8 ticket. It is the chili on the Coney Island Dog.***
I would not recommend reading the paperback novel of “PLZ Advise: A Novel”. I would recommend ordering the paperback and recording the Kindle version aloud while you wait on delivery. When the book arrives, pour yourself a nice cup of coffee, read the back cover blurbs, and then place it on your shelf. The audio file will be waiting. PLZ Advise.
