REVIEW: SPURIOUS By Lars Iyer

Spurious by Lars Iyer

Well…is this literature in the guise of non-literature, a story perceived with peripheral vision ?  Or… the great posthumous novel (as L.I. intimates in an interview) ?  Or perhaps, both ? I’m not sure, but…it is engaging in an unusual way.
 Interestingly enough it’s a story told in the first person with references almost solely in the third person.  There is no “Handlung”; i.e. plot as the Germanics (reference Kafka) would have it, but a tale of relationship, fecklessness and humor buried in the pages.  As the details of the “plot” flesh themselves out, so do the characters of the protagonists (again, perhaps somewhat exaggerated as a description).  These are men of academia, no Feynmans for sure, but apparently able enough to subsist on grants and head out to various and sundry conferences. 
I found their relationship similar to Laurel and Hardy- the question arising being: why do I have you as a friend, when you’re so ­­­_____ (inept or whatever handy insult comes to mind).  As in Laurel and Hardy, Lars really does seem inept, struck by fate, unable to control the rising, all permeating damp.  W is his friend, but in essence it seems a needy one, despite his condescension, looking for Lars’ acceptance, approval and adoration (?).  And, strange as it seems, this is funny because it mirrors friendships we see in the real world- only without the rising damp, hopefully.
All sorts of references to the greats and mysterious of the 20^th century – Kafka, Rosenzweig, Bela Tarr, etc. come up.  As an academic, most of these characters are apparently well know to L.I.  Knowing a bit about one or two of them myself, and with the aid of Wikipedia, they provide an interesting philo-litero-sophical (I made that word up) background to it all.  I’ll stick with Kafka, as I know him best having slogged through  most of his works and even having read Max Brod (who also comes up) about Kafka.  The sense of the absurd, the whimsical that is in Kafka is present in this book, although Kafka’s exposition of whimisicality (sorry Webster’s, OED or whomever) is somewhat darker than L.I.’s.  It is almost the light hand of fate- rising damp isn’t as bad as turning into a giant insect overnight or being put on trial for no discernible reason.  The Damp, however, is in a way malevolent.  It won’t be controlled or appeased, it is seemingly all conquering.  If I were Lars, I’d move, but he doesn’t.  So Laurel.
This book is not literature in the way most of us are used to.  That is apparently the point of it, but even though it celebrates the end of the “novel”, it somehow becomes one.  For me, it was like waking up with sleep in your eyes and struggling to focus.  Things won’t become clear as you try harder to focus on them, but once you gave in to the lack of clarity as the book went on,  things did become clearer and plot and character did appear, although not of an ordinary nature.  Funny and refreshing, enjoyable…but not a beach read.

Average score 3.5 out of 5 
Review by Joe Igoe