Wow. This book is f*ing A-Ma-Zing! In fact, it's not a book. It is an HBO mini-series playing in your mind, if LotR met Dude Where's My Car, had a baby, that baby grew up and met every epic teen novel and movie from the last fifteen years and they all had one big literary orgy. Protection was used. Kinda.
Going Bovine
by Libba Bray
Cameron Smith, 16, is slumming through high school, overshadowed by a sister “pre-majoring in perfection,” while working (ineptly) at the Buddha Burger. Then something happens to make him the focus of his family's attention: he contracts mad cow disease. What takes place after he is hospitalized is either that a gorgeous angel persuades him to search for a cure that will also save the world, or that he has a vivid hallucination brought on by the disease. Either way, what readers have is an absurdist comedy in which Cameron, Gonzo (a neurotic dwarf) and Balder (a Norse god cursed to appear as a yard gnome) go on a quixotic road trip during which they learn about string theory, wormholes and true love en route to Disney World. Bray's surreal humor may surprise fans of her historical fantasies about Gemma Doyle, as she trains her satirical eye on modern education, American materialism and religious cults (the smoothie-drinking members of the Church of Everlasting Satisfaction and Snack 'N' Bowl). Offer this to fans of Douglas Adams's Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy seeking more inspired lunacy.
Going Bovine is more than an unusual book; it is abnormal, bizarre, controversial, and extraordinary. I am a quick reader; you could say that I am a big fan of quickies. This book took me TWO WEEKS to read. A record not broken since like 2006...yes, when I only read three books. This is not a basis by which to consider the book bad. The delay is all blogging's fault, well, my fault for blogging too much and not reading enough. Uh, back to the book.
Bray brings on an impressive cast of characters, from a drag queen to odd scientists to these weird happy cult people. Bray doesn't just hand you a sucker of fervor, she makes you work for your feelings toward the characters, for both good and bad. Frankly, the MC, Cameron, annoyed the hell outta me most of the time, but since he's dying, I had to cut him slack. Have you ever had a friend who was very sick, but they are annoying and insufferable - not from being sick, just because they're that way - and you find yourself loyally sticking by their side until they come to their "I am a bad person, what the hell is wrong with me" epiphany? No, okay, well, neither have I, but I found myself doing that with Cameron. Thankfully it's not just you and him in the room. You've got this hella funny Little Person, the friend that always makes you laugh, but they have weird quirks that make you laugh even hard when they are attempting to be serious. There's also the cool buddy that everyone likes, he's a garden gnome. You've got the above all of you friend, that is trying to be just like you, but no matter how hard they try, you continue to shine them in a different light, mostly because you're probably in love with them, oh and no one else can see them, which makes you look crazy. Oh, then there's you, the reader, the listener. You don't have any input on anything, but you are subject to every high and every low.
Living inside Cameron's head as he travels across the US after ditching the hospital with the LP is tedious, at times, and fantastically funny at others. The book takes place in Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, and Florida. Bray gives us a satirical book based on completely believable characters, even the magical ones seem so right. I found myself rooting for Cameron because I wanted him to, like, save the world, but I also found myself rooting for Bray. She turns some of today's ideas: pop-culture, corporate America, etc., and shines on them an unfamiliar light. I laughed hysterically throughout the book. Some of the time because what she was telling us I felt to be completely true and other times because I felt I was learning something new in a way all teachers would envy. In the end, Bray's message is about life, reality, and our right to control the two.
Please forgive the long-winded and mostly discombobulated sorry excuse for a review. I so wish I had some powerful message to poetically place here, but, alas, you get a 'read the damn book!' instead. It will take patience, I will tell you that. It's not wrapped up in a pretty bow, but the last page will make it all so worth it. I dare you to stay a cynic. 5/5
