You know that guy? That really bright guy who can’t hold down any crappy job, but possesses an encyclopedic recall of trivia and otherwise worthless details, and who takes it a step further – he doesn’t just memorize that stuff, he theorizes with it, he analyses it and spins it into far larger and grander scope than it’s original incarnation ever intended or deserved? He obsesses over theoretical scenarios and overlapping alternate universes that pit X-Men against Freddy Krueger, and he’ll stand by and back up his theories against anybody, any time, anywhere.
Damon is that guy. Sort of. He is the set upon protagonist of Nik Korpon’s debut novel, Stay God. He’s smart - the recklessly assured kind of smart that could get somebody killed - dealing drugs out of his pawnshop, but is apparently bored by the trappings of his work and unwilling to be pigeon-holed by anybody’s idea of what a drug dealer is or should be. He’s smart, but even worse, he’s clever. He separates his straight customers from those after his illicit goods by communicating through codes that, more often than not, have ties to pop-culture, (Depeche Mode songs for example – would you like Notorious or Master and Servant?). He can spot an undercover cop inside of ten seconds, build an elaborate false safe to protect against potential stick up men and if you think he’s looking at you funny, he’s just counting your fingers and memorizing your shoes. He does that. He’s smart. He’s clever.
He’s also weirdly ambitious. He’s got all the trappings of some hipster, slacker douchebag, skating by on video game skills and horror movie knowledge, but he’s also possessed of a keen eye for demand trends and is frustrated by his “boss’s” short sighted business plan. When a sexy femme fatale straight out of some black and white hard boiled movie presents him with a fat slice of the future on a platter, he determines to side step the system to get a piece of it, regardless her obviously skewed motives.
But y’know, when real money is involved, so are real consequences. And that’s the odd balancing act that Stay God pulls off. It exists in two head spaces at all times. First the “don’t take anything too seriously, ‘cause it’s all like whatever,” lens you’re tempted to view it all through, and then the deadly serious, people getting killed over it stuff that I kept having to step back and remind myself was real.
Damon walks that line, but readers may get whiplash. By the time they’ve figured out the stakes and got their game face on, it’s too late, they’re in too deep and if they run like hell, they may just get out alive. Or have to change their name. Like Damon did. Oops, is that too much to give away? Damon is someone who’s been in the game long enough to see his share of bad things, but he’s also clever enough to think he may be able to make everything work out and that is where clever becomes the enemy of smart.
Rob, the protagonist at the center of Nick Hornby’s seminal pop-culture riff, High Fidelity came to an important epiphany by the book’s end, something along the lines of: It’s what you’re like, not what you like that’s important. Come to think of it, that may be a direct quote. Hornby’s book may be something that Damon has read, but the wisdom didn’t ever quite transfer. He’s doomed, but can’t quite figure that out, though he’s dedicated a large chunk of his life to films and books and songs about exactly the kind of tragic character he is. As an audience member, he would appreciate the irony.
Korpon leads us along the razor’s edge behind Damon like a skilled tour guide and allows us to feel his hope, dread, frustration and vision while remaining a cool step removed, from where we see the shortcomings in his logic and dramatic imagination. At once a fun spot-the-reference game and a chilly, tragic noir for your winter nights, Stay God lets you have your Cake and afford your rock 'n roll lifestyle. (Ahem)
Jedidiah Ayres writes fiction and keeps the blog Hardboiled Wonderland.
