The Pinball Theory of Apocalypse

It's been a while since I laughed so hard at a book that other passengers on the airplane peered over the backs of their seats and across the aisles to see if I was choking on something. I believe this is the first time, however, that I have subsequently read selected paragraphs aloud for bystanders' amusement. They thought it was pretty funny, too. Since other reviewers have summarized the premise here, let me concentrate on why it is so funny: Jonathan Selwood's eye for absurdist touches and wild spins of the moral compass. LA's celebrity and near-celebrity culture is pretty well-worn territory, after all, as are the ups and downs of pop art popularity, but this novel leap-frogs past the expected, races past the edgy, and goes straight for the oh-my-God. This book would be easy to dismiss as yet another celebrity comedy if it were merely outrageous, though, and it isn't. Its pace and intricate madness reminded me of the carefully-constructed mayhem of Laurie Foos' Portrait of the Walrus by a Young Artist: A Novel About Art, Bowling, Pizza, Sex, and Hair Spray. The chaos here is far from accidental, nor does the plot come across as a surreal take on an imaginary world: this book read at times like a storyline excerpted from a meganovel about a very real Los Angeles; at the end of this story, I wanted to read the rest. In short, this isn't just a satire: it's a portrait of a world in constant flux. Instead of making fun of a culture so shallow that couples issue press releases when they are breaking up, Selwood embraces it so thoroughly that everything from a pop tart diva's empty threats to ambient wildfires to purloined dinosaur bones feel symbolically integral to the underlying question of what success and desire are. Don't expect the answers to be easy. Do expect the answer to provoke the kind of laughter that makes strangers stare at you in public places.

In "The Pinball Theory of Apocalypse," Jonathan Selwood creates an unforgettable portrayal of contemporary Hollywood. This hilarious debut novel evokes the absurd characters and apocalyptic imagery of "The Day of the Locust," the grotesque metaphors of "The Loved One," and the desperation of "Play It As It Lays." Selwood presents us with a city which has perfected the art of denial. The Angelenos ignore an accelerating rate of local disasters such as earthquakes, wildfires, and creeping tar, in favor of going about their daily business. At the same time, they manage to disregard the proof of imminent global apocalypse which has been documented by the main character's father. Why this is all so funny, I'm not sure, but it has something to do with the recurring references to "tapirlike" features, deviled eggs, and prehistoric mammals. If you are familiar with Los Angeles, you will laugh in recognition at the descriptions of Beverly Hills, Mulholland, Hollywood Hills, "south-of-Wilshire-east-of-La Brea," the Bourgeois Pig, Musso & Frank's, Cheremoya Ave. School, and especially the La Brea tar pits and the "Batcave". If you have never set foot in the city, you will finish the book feeling as if you've just been there. The technicolor imagery makes this perfect material for a screen adaptation. I hope someone turns "The Pinball Theory of Apocalypse" into a movie and I hope Selwood is already at work on a second novel.

In Los Angeles artist Isabel Raven copies Impressionist masterpieces for wealthy patrons who cannot afford the originals. However, local art dealer to uniformed and misinformed Dahlman thinks her twists of combining the classics with modern day images and symbols can make them money. So he promotes her work as the next great wave while displaying photos of her on the Net that she would prefer remain personal; she becomes an artsy in thing as the "It Girl". However, on the down side Dahlman threatens to carve her up if she fails to sign an agent's agreement with him. Dahlman's emu evisceration threat and her boyfriend's cheating on her seem minor when Isabel considers her physicist string theory father's scientific conclusion involving Jupiter melting Pluto or is that Uranus or some other planetary giant as belch; regardless the solar system is counting down to tilt with the apocalypse coming soon. THE PINBALL THEORY OF APOCALYPSE is an amusing zany satirical frolic that takes no prisoners as Jonathan Selwood skewers the Hollywood world in which promotion, advertisement, and spin is more critical to success than talent. Readers will appreciate the combining of art and science as Raven knows she must make it by October 9, 2049 while having to choose between Dahlman's phony campaign and being herself even if that means modernized rip-offs of the greats. This is a terrific mocking of the American way to fame and fortune; as it is not how good the item is, nor how hard you work on the product, or what you produce; it is the sell. Harriet Klausner

This story literally starts off with a jolt and its manic energy never relents. Yet, the outrageous chaos the characters are blasély living through doesn't turn into an unorganized or confusing read - rather, just the opposite: it's a hilarious and timely story (borderline prescient with recent Californian wild fires and perhaps some Hollywood couples) that adeptly references pop culture and keeps you reading for your next laugh-out-loud high. I also found it fitting that the main character, Isabel Raven, is a painter (her paintings are amazing feats of imagination in and of themselves) because this novel kept painting pictures in my head as I read - even including what I would describe as an enormous cartoon scene straight from Looney Tunes with every ilk of wild animal rampaging through the desert ala Wile E. Coyote. (At least, that's what my brain conjured up...) I can imagine the story becoming a movie - and not just because it's set in LA. It has an energy so rarely captured on the written page that it would seem to be a natural progression to translate it into live-action. After all, every actor wants to get cast as the bad guy, and this story is so full of weirdos and eccentrics that I'd think it would get agents salivating. Selwood's seemingly effortless, slapstick-comedy style of writing has a biting yet irreverent social satire bubbling up beneath its surface. Even the looming end of the world is just one more thing - of many - threatening to spin out of control. Yes, it's an outrageous story, but enjoyably so. No, the humor isn't to be taken just at face value - it's perhaps even darker than we might want to admit. Each character, each scene, outdoes the one previous until the story has built to a frenetic crescendo (in need of a latte to calm down, if just for a bit.) In fact, it's cathartic to let yourself be bounced around on a wild ride and to empathically work yourself into a bit of a tizzy.

I really enjoyed this book, whose pre-apocalypse vision of LA is exactly how I've always pictured living there. Selwood spins an very entertaining tale, I found myself spending a little too much time daydreaming thinking of what the exact details of the pinball theory would be, and I was shocked to learn that vaginal rejuvenation surgery (which is in the book) is actually a real procedure. For me the fun (or is it scary) thing is, that all of the self involvement of the characters could easily be true. I would bet some of the recreations of famous paintings (with stars inserted) already exist. I'm scared to think about how many have had VR.