Thursday, October 28, 2021

I Wished - Dennis Cooper (2021)


I Wished is like a "greatest hits" collection of Dennis Cooper's novels. It is a meta-commentary on the entirety of his work, but mostly it is about the so-called George Miles Cycle (five novels). Beyond those five novels, however, his entire oeuvre may also be about George Miles, and I Wished is Cooper's most confessional work. I am not sure it is his most accessible, but it appears that he wanted that to be the case, judging from the opening, "Overture (2021)":

"I guess because I want someone who knew my friend to read this book and find me. I want this book to be more public than my others so it will find people who don't normally read novels or who don't give a shit about some weird cult writer's books because it seems like everyone who either knew him or used to know me doesn't.
I want to know that all my love for him is worth it or find someone who'll convince me he was no one much, or who'll say, 'He never mentioned you,' or that he referenced me offhandedly enough that it's clear I didn't mean that much to him, and that's the hope, and that's the fear, and I know that's only semi-interesting to read, but it's very hard for me to even do this." (6)

In short, a masterful opening. However, from there it goes into "Torn From Something," which is vintage Cooper, and will probably make a lot of people (who aren't familiar with his work) throw the book away. In short, if there was a question of banning Thomas Mann or the book about him, there is no question this would be banned. It's as sick and gross as anything he's ever written, at least the first part of it. But it feels like a delusive move because after that rough first part, which is either a twisted reality or fantasy, it goes into a rather conventional "novel" about George Miles, the actual person--for certain stretches, at least. 

Cooper's work is easy to read and difficult to understand. Certainly, there is nothing else like it (as far as mainstream options go). But finally in I Wished, he pulls back the curtain, he writes as himself, he is completely confessional about his r'aison d'etre, and as a result his work seems less sketchy as a whole. Like the early readers of Lolita, if you read his work out of prurience, it may say more about you than it does about him--but there's no judging here. Because Cooper is a modern-day Marquis de Sade, or at least an adherent of his philosophy. 

There is a certain genre that Cooper fits into--indeed, he may have created his own genre, his own style of writing, of which there are now many admirers and imitators--and it is time that he is recognized for his contributions to American literature (though it is likely he'd rather be associated with the movement of the nouveau roman in mid-20th century France). He is almost pushing 70 but there's no pretense about "being a mature adult," practicing moderation, growing wise with age; he flatly admits that he can't really get over events that happened 30-55 years ago. Maybe it's all part of an act, but it feels way too real to be that. 

***

Many of Cooper's books are essentially plotless, but they tend to follow a single narrative thread. That is not the case here. While there is a callback later on to scenes the reader may perceive as "reality," this comprises about 1/3 of the book; another 1/3 of it is also "reality," but the one inside of Cooper's mind, his "wishes" and fantasies; the remaining 1/3 of the book is rather impressionistic and abstract, sometimes humorous, and mostly inspiring a reader-response of "WTF?" These parts did not work as well for me, but they also need to be in the book, because they add another dimension to the work and further expands character development and enlivens the search for meaning in the loss of his friend.

Obviously I am talking about the "chapters" of "X-Mas (1970)" and "The Crater" (the first of the two), which feature Santa Claus, or the idea of him, and a talking natural landscape in Arizona that is being ravaged as part of an ambitious art project (The Roden Crater, which I now want to visit). Later there is another inanimate "crater" that speaks and it's questionable how interrelated these two chapters really are. 

Apart from the two variations of craters, there are two variations of "The Heart is a Lonely Hunter" (the movie, not the book). The former ("Thialh") is a kind of longer-form review of the movie, or a distillation of its story, whose main character may be Dennis (on IMDB, the character's name is John Singer), who is deaf-mute and serves as a "confessor" for a number of friends that he helps. One of these is a younger woman whom he falls madly in love with, and she serves as a kind of avatar for George Miles. The description of the eternal hope for and impossibility of real love with her is particularly affecting:

"He fell in love with her. It was so stupid. He was agonized and embarrassed by this love since he knew he was unworthy, but he tried to let himself believe she visited so often because she cared or even loved him or, at the very least, had missed him. He knew this theory made no sense, and that their closeness was a technicality, and that she'd never fall in love with someone whose body sucked, but he wanted her to love him so badly, and he understood that love, at least in theories proffered by the church, etc., was supposed to be extremely flexible.
Sometimes, he thought, She wouldn't let me be so kind and giving and devoted if she didn't love me. He thought, She has to know I wouldn't be so giving and devoted to her unless I was in love. He thought, She wouldn't let me be so obviously in love with her unless she was in love with me in some way. He thought, If she didn't love me, she would tell me to stop doing all these things for her because the fact that she gives nothing but her presence in return would make her feel uncomfortable.
He loved her so incredibly much. When she needed something, no matter how peripherally or trivial, he would spend days on the phone [This seems impossible for a deaf-mute-Ed.] or negotiating streets and local stores with great difficulty, trying to find someone to help him give her what she needed. When she needed money, he lied to her and said he had a lot of money and went deeply into debt so he could give her everything that anyone could ever give another person." (34-35)

Later, "The Heart is a Lonely Hunter" details Dennis's first meeting with George, who is 12 and freaking out on an acid trip. This is a very brief chapter that then leads into "I Wished," which is the closest bit of self-examination in the book. It's only about 21 pages--I'm not sure if it's the longest chapter--but it feels like the center of the book. The book ends with "Finale (1976)," which is also very short, and along this timeline, it seems that this is the period when Dennis actually had something approaching an actual romantic relationship with George, for a brief window of time when the latter gets on a medication that curtails his manic-depression. Yet there is nothing distinct about that (that period is referenced earlier), and it feels more like "Overture (2021)" in that it seems to come from a present-day perspective.

***

The "Cycle" consists of Closer, Frisk, Try, Guide, and Period. Is this the 6th? I don't think so; this is more memoir than novel. The Marbled Swarm was Cooper's previous novel and came out 10 years ago. This is probably better than that, because it's more concise, and as confusing as it is at points, makes a great deal more sense. Having read the five novels in the Cycle, and now reading this, I want to revisit the other three that have not been reviewed here yet. I remember Period making almost no sense at all and I feel like this book contextualizes it. Guide is not as good as Frisk but I remember getting through it quickly, also in Paris about 18 years ago, after Try. Frisk was made into an average film at best, mostly notable for an excellent performance by the always-good Parker Posey; I mention this because adapting Cooper's work seems very difficult, but Frisk is a pretty straightforward serial killer narrative that is mostly engaging and served as proof that he was not a flash-in-the-pan after Closer

I am not sure where Cooper's career goes from here. One imagines he could write a magnum opus yet, that would be even more "public" than this one, but it seems hard to imagine that he has much more to say on this topic. Perhaps it could be an exploration of his later life, with Miles in the back of his mind, post-1987 or so, and how he has supported himself through his writing, and other artistic endeavors, which have more recently included stage and screen. But that seems rather basic. In any case, his oeuvre is a testament to the love that he fully examines in I Wished. If there were a way that Miles could know the books that he had inspired, I imagine that he would be flattered and enamored with the idea that his abbreviated life could have spawned such a mythology. One hopes that Cooper's "wish" with this book comes true, and that someone may contact him; one also hopes that he found some measure of happiness and satisfaction with this life where he spent so much time ruminating on the hopelessness of loving someone that he could only bring back into existence on the page. This book should be good for anyone that can relate. 

Grade: A-

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