Last Last Chance

With the news filled with talk of the swine flu, Fiona Maazel's debut novel Last Last Chance, and its storyline of the release of a superplague, seems prescient. Lucy is a thirty-year-old drug addict with six failed rehab stints behind her. Her mother is a wealthy business owner and crack addict, her twelve-year-old half sister dabbles in disease, cutting herself and fundamental Christianity, and her scientist father committed suicide after a deadly superplague created in the government lab where he worked disappears. Not exactly a feel-good novel, but one that is brilliantly plotted and written. Maazel states in the author's conversation at the end of the book that she "love(s) the craft of storytelling", and it shows. She writes sentences that are so amazing, they take your breath away. You simply have to go back and reread and savor them. She states that "every sentence feels like its own universe, and so I think long and hard about how to put that universe together." An example of one of my favorite sentences (and there are many) is "If my mother had a secret life, maybe I could forgive the one she led in front of us." She also states that Cormac McCarthy is a writer she admires, and while I was reading her book, it put me in mind of him as well, both in the beautifully crafted sentences, and the subject matter of his Pulitzer Prize winning novel, The Road. Whereas The Road is post-apocalyptic, Last Last Chance is pre-apocalyptic, and does have an element of gallows humor to it. There is so much stuffed into this novel, it almost defies description. Characters who have died and been reincarnated, or are waiting for reincarnation, narrate some chapters. This can be confusing at first, but stick with it, and you will be rewarded. The ravages of drug addiction are compared to the panic and illness of a world plague. The self-absorbed behavior of a drug addict is mirrored by the panic and self preservation that people exhibit when faced with a plague at their doorstep. The characters are not entirely likeable; indeed it is hard to feel sympathy for people who have much, but still fall into drug (and self) abuse. Yet the author gets you to root for these people. Lucy and her mother attend a drug rehab in Texas, and in group therapy they hear the heartbreaking stories of how some of their fellow residents became drug addicts; it is stark contrast to their own lives. Maazel manages to keep all her balls in the air, with many settings and characters to keep track of and move along. Her characters, and there are many, seem fully realized, and though you know them well, you leave wanting to know even more about them. This is a big novel, with much to contemplate and savor. It is a book that does not grab one right away, but once involved, it is something you cannot put down. If you are willing to commit to it, you will be richly rewarded. I highly recommend it and look forward to Maazels' next effort.

Last Last put me off at first: it started out too clever by half, dazzling, and show-offy in its originality and writing. But as the book picked up speed and I settled into its brittle brilliance, its true shape emerged. Substance, emotional heft and authenticity began shining though. It takes awhile to get this from book, and the reason is that Maazel follows a serpentine, wildly inventive plot line. It's skewed, screwball, entertaining, and off the wall. Hang in there and go along for the ride. Superplague is killing the masses and bringing out the worst in human nature; oh, and it may have been released (accidentally) by the protagonist's father, a suicide. That everyone is on the verge of being wiped out serves as the background drumming for the loopy adventures and characters. A mother-daughter detox stint in a Texas center called Bluebonnet. Asides by dead people who discuss their death and previous incarnations conversationally with the reader. Missed weddings, kosher chicken plants, true loves who have the temerity to marry one's best friend thus leaving one with a second best, damaged-goods guy in mourning for the wife he killed while driving drunk (he wants someone else to bear the children of his deceased wife's eggs). A morbid, angry younger sister who's a cutter and a Christian, a Norse goddess-channeling crack-head wealthy mother...well, you get the idea. Or probably you don't, but you will if you give yourself over to it. Last Last Chance is a recovery novel. BUT. It wraps itself around the fact that, clean or not, we don't recover from life itself, which is terminal. That 12 steppisms are cliches about which even those who get saved by them are ambivalent. And that we can, in the end, have hope and happiness --- not of the kind we predicted --- despite ourselves and the depredations and griefs of the world. This is the depth-charge of truth-telling which lies beneath the razzle-dazzle writing and plot. As Steve Usery, a reviewer on Facebook noted it's "the feelgood apocalyptic book of the year." Even what was off-putting at the beginning turned out to be essential to the developing voice of the protagonist. Have a little patience with this one; you will be rewarded.

I was very impressed by this book. I think that Ms. Maazel has hit the heart of the matter when it comes to facing up to losses and tragedies of all sorts, and the role that addictions of all kinds play in how we approach loss. Her handling of a variety of characters, all wrestling with their personal demons, or getting a chance to "take a breather" on the sidelines before their next incarnation, is spot-on. Despite the weight of her material, Ms. Maazel can write funny as hell, too, and I found myself laughing out loud many times, which is rare for me. I look forward to this talented writer's next book!

The compelling fantasy about a plague epidemic and depiction of an eccentric and disconnected family make Last Last Chance a great read in their own rights. But Fiona Maazel's greatest strength is the voice she gives to her protagonist, Lucy Clarke. She is sardonic and desperate. She is devoted to family and trapped in selfishness. Maazel deftly portrays the ambivalence, yearning and hopelessness of addiction and the cynicism felt by many addicts as they dip their toes into the recovering community pool. The recovery as reincarnation analogy she makes is aptly drawn. Don't let the description on the dust jacket fool you. The reincarnation espousing grandmother, pagan crack-head mother, disease and Christian fundamentalism obsessed sister, the lover seeking a donor for his dead wife's fertilized eggs all make it appear to be a novel filled with absurd, flat caricatures. In fact, Maazel gives each a rich, logical and sad inner life. Any absurdity is just on the surface. You will admire and care for each of these people, even if you despise some of their behaviors. I disagree with Publishers Weekly's criticism of the book's conclusion. Without giving away details, I'll simply say that any change in "tone" is consistent with how Lucy's life was changed by outside forces and by how she adapts despite and because of and those events.

i just finished this book and it was the funniest, saddest thing i've read in i don't know how long. there's so much warmth and vitality and insight here, and courage and fury and imagination and flat-out terrific writing. wow.