ROANOKE TIMES

                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: SUNDAY, June 11, 1995                   TAG: 9506140034
SECTION: BOOK                    PAGE: F-6   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: REVIEWED BY NEIL HARVEY
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Medium


`TECHNICOLOR PULP' PROVES ANYTHING CAN BE PUBLISHED

TECHNICOLOR PULP. By Arty Nelson. Warner Books. $18.95.

As I read the publisher's notes for the novel "Technicolor Pulp," I started getting that sinking feeling.

Warner Books calls this "the definitive Generation X story" (wow) and they refer to the main character as "the ultimate slacker anti-hero" (great). Based on that introduction, I figured "Technicolor Pulp" would be a cheap, quirky Douglas Coupland rip-off, but then again judging a book by its publisher's notes is even less advisable than judging a book by its cover, so I put aside my preconceived notions and just read the novel.

The book itself is infinitely worse than I ever imagined. It's not merely a lame attempt to market posey loser chic, it's an offensive waste of time. This book made me want to break furniture; it made me want to wash my hands. This is a book that should be given to frustrated authors, because after reading it they'll be heartened by the realization that anything can be published.

"Technicolor Pulp" is the story of Jimi Banks, a self-absorbed college grad schmoe who ventures off to Europe armed with VD (which he spreads) and no money. Jimi is one big drag: a whiner, a mooch, a self-indulgent fool and, worst of all, a bore. He leeches off friends, he charms female characters who bear absolutely no resemblance to women in the real world, and he has adventures that aren't the least bit interesting.

What Nelson has written is 200 pages of stream-of-consciousness complaints, misguided social commentary, in-depth descriptions of bathroom activities and bodily functions, and constant, droning cravings for food, alcohol, sex, love, money and sleep. Indicative of the author's amateurish style and voice is the fact that, on almost every page, usually several times a page, he resorts to using words and phrases written in capital letters. He probably assumed that where his prose failed, taller words would make his story SEEM MORE DRAMATIC.

Here's an example of how Jimi's mind works, as he reflects on the prospects of a new morning: "The air is on the chilly side and I'm hurled on into more 'young guy's thoughts.' All those, Who am I? What am I? What do I? Where do I? When do I do? Does anybody really know what time it is? kind of thoughts. I don't know. I just don't know! I just want it to be all over. ... I want ... I want ... I want and I don't have. I don't want the 'young guy's thoughts.' I want it to be fun."

Well, fun it ain't. And I think Jimi needs a job.

Neil Harvey is a Blacksburg writer.



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