by Kelly Pickerill

The reviews have been mixed for Padgett Powell’s newest novel, You & Me. The dust jacket description starts the commentary off, in fact, by calling itself “a hilarious Southern send-up of Samuel Beckett’s classic Waiting for Godot.”

Yet all the reviewers seem to be saying the same thing about the book, only some reactions to it are “oh, brother,” and some are “how delightful.” I prepared myself to be a little annoyed, I will admit, by the novel’s structure, which is comprised entirely of dialogue without attribution (in Godot, because it’s a play, we at least know who is speaking at all times), and the days? hours? that pass between the conversations are marked with an ampersand “chapter heading.”

The structure as it is leaves the reader with little more narrative flow than his last novel, An Interrogative Mood, which was comprised entirely of questions. Some reviewers have begun to quibble with Powell’s definition of “novel” now that, with You & Me, he has shown that he will stretch its literal definition (our English word comes from the Italian novella, “new,” “news,” or “short story of something new”) to its limits.

The reviewers all seem to mention You & Me’s shortest chapter, which reads

Dude.

What?

Nothing.

& one says: “Those three words are pretty much this slight and flatulent book in microcosm. It’s as if the author had put some ribs on the grill but forgot to light the charcoal.” (Dwight Garner, New York Times)

& another says: “Take it for a synopsis of the novel, an existentialist joke or an all-American salute to Beckett, in context, it thumps like a punch line.” (Kenneth Baker, San Francisco Chronicle)

But. 
But.
But. I loved reading this book. The experience of losing yourself in a novel is what we’re all after, after all, right? All of us literary fiction readers are somewhat dorky, we all just need to admit it, and Powell’s book facilitates a total geek out: there are references to pop culture and politics, all tangled up with profound ideas on what it means to grow old, to lose yourself to ennui and depression, to die. The old codgers toss jokes back and forth with sometimes dizzying wit; they reference themselves, riff on their own flaws, and complain about their lives. And it’s all wrapped in packaging that is nothing if not postmodern.

Those who are less than flattering about Powell’s novel, I believe, secretly loved it. Yet, because they’re “literary critics,” it’s their job to pick it apart. Yes, the novel is weird. But its weirdness doesn’t get in its own way, and by the end I was super happy to have been introduced to a very talented writer.

Introduce yourself to Padgett Powell on Tuesday, September 4th in Lemuria’s Dotcom building, where he will present and read from his novel, You & Me. Live music by Beth Mckee, a southern musician promoting her second album, Next to Nowhere. The event starts at 5 o’clock.

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