During my college years I interned at various litmags, sorting through slush piles in search of gold. I must have read hundreds of stories, and skimmed several hundred more. One of the very few that affected me deeply was called “The Pipe.” It involved a security guard and a paramedic, hired to watch over a pipe sticking out of the ground. Six feet beneath the pipe is a radio DJ, attempting to break some sort of record for being buried alive, a la David Blaine. The paramedic and guard are there in case the DJ rings his distress bell and wants to come up. But the bell never rings, and so the two men have plenty of time to get stoned and drunk, have sex with transsexual women in the back of the ambulance, trade insults, and attempt to poison each other. Things go so far off the deep end that you start to wonder, what if the DJ’s distress bell isn’t hooked up properly, and he’s been ringing it all this time? Is there even a DJ buried down there at all? And if there is, wouldn’t he be dead by now?
The story somehow combined laugh-out-loud hilarity and existential terror, an ingenious cross between No Exit and Waiting for Godot. I raved about it to the editors of the magazine I was reading for at the time, but for some unfathomable reason they took a pass. I forgot the author’s name, but never forgot the story. Fast forward five years or so: I pick up Jack Pendarvis’ first story collection, The Mysterious Secret of the Valuable Treasure. There it is: “The Pipe.” I almost drop the book.
Less than a year after the paperback release of Mysterious Secret, Pendarvis follows it up this month with Your Body Is Changing, a selection of several short pieces and one longish novella that, in its best moments, proves Pendarvis to be capable of brilliant po-mo social satire in the tradition of Kurt Vonnegut, or George Saunders (who provides some glowing blurbage).
The universe inhabited by Pendarvis’ characters closely resembles our own, except with the mechanisms that serve to regulate normal human behavior strangely absent. Everyone in his stories, whether they know it or not, is utterly, floridly, unabashedly, batshit insane. Pendarvis has a tremendous gift for rendering the mindless niceties of colloquial speech. The characters speak, and you are lulled into thinking this is a normal person talking, saying the kind of thing you’ve heard a million times before, until the camera pulls back and what you thought you saw is something completely else.
Here’s a quote from an ad exec being interviewed in “Courageous Blast: The Legacy of America’s Most Radical Gum:” “There’s a lot of talk right now about courage and whatnot, but whenever I’m pressed for a definition I just say, take a look at It Better Be Gum.” What is “It Better Be Gum?” A mystery substance that causes horrible diarrhea and permanent gastrointestinal damage (or, in the words of the ad exec, a “sea change in the way Americans engage with gum as a recreational snack.”) A huge fan of the product explains that he didn’t realize the terrible burning and the hours on the john were caused by his favorite gum. “I just thought there was something wrong with me.”