My Volcano
John Elizabeth Stintzi, 347 pgs, Arsenal Pulp Press, arsenalpulp.com, $23.95
It has happened and the world does not remember it… and maybe it’s for the best — like a stationary bicycle, this grotesque apocalyptic cacophony moves but doesn’t get far.
1 On JUNE 2, 2016, a volcano emerges and grows in Central Park, affecting all characters and earth, creating a Hieronymus Bosch-like phantasmagoric kaleidoscope of physical transformations and making the theme of body prevalent as characters turn into thistle-like creatures, clay lemons, demigods, etc. Their minds are often on their former lovers with themes of loneliness, longing and grief.
2 On MAY 9, 2022, J. E. Stintzi’s My Volcano emulates our distracted and desensitized present with a distant narrative voice, a rash of characters and 232 micro-chapters that rapidly switch between storylines. While perhaps aiming to critique this distracted and desensitized reality we are living, the conjunction of the two extremes — distracting narrative frame and unprecedented global events — ultimately replicates the same sensation and causes the reader to break out in loss-of-interest hives. (Counterintuitively, partial antihistamine is reading in long blocks).
3 And as grotesque as the landscape, actions, characters and their experiences seem, the MacGuffins and lack of direction leave reader wondering, “Where is this going?” Perhaps the thesis adviser to the character only known as “white trans writer” reflects on this: “she didn’t think the book worked. There was too much going on… obscured the goals… The reader got lost in the movement — the whiplash —” Well — Amen.
4 ON MAY 16, 2022, like tombstones, full pages are dedicated to real-life LGBTQIA2S+ and BIPOC murder victims. While introducing a non-fiction narrative element, the relation with the mythical storyline remains a mystery. By oscillating between non-fiction, mythology and folklore, the novel may be an attempt at new literary genre: non-fiction fantasy. In this case, framed in time by the volcano’s existence, the bizarre and mythical receives all of the reader’s attention while the reality of these people being murdered goes overlooked, lost in the distraction.
5 On JUNE 2, 2022, the ending amuses, then infuriates.
6 On JUNE 3, 2022, if you enjoy the endless parade of bizarre, sensationalist, apocalyptic stories disjointed by the impatient internet’s digital narrations in real life, J.E. Stintzi’s My Volcano’s analog non-fiction fantasy version may work for you. Otherwise, it may bore and irritate.
