Sunday, September 7, 2014

"A Confederacy of Dunces" - A Book Review: Would Cohrs Be Proud?

During my school days here in Argentina, I don't really do much. No, it's not the language barrier, it's simply the fact that these students are finishing their senior year and I already finished mine, so why dish out more work? Well, this leaves me with ample time to read, doodle, practice cursive writing (which is the most common form of script down here), and write lengthy book reviews (like I said, ample, AMPLE time). When I was nearing the last 30 or so pages of John Kennedy Toole's posthumously-published opus, A Confederacy of Dunces, I grew somewhat sad inside, for I felt the adventure of reading such a wildly enjoyable book was coming to an end all too soon. Upon turning the last page, I had to let my feelings digest before I could really put words to my thoughts. Here's what I came up with:

How else can you describe Ignatius J. Reilly as anything other than a lovable villain, or, inversely, a loathsome hero? His outward demeanor could very well suit either one, and this is displayed through his absolutely grotesque personal hygiene and social manners, juxtaposed with his immeasurable lexicon and innately childish spirit. Educated at the university to the highest degree, yet unbelievably gluttonous and immature, Ignatius is indeed one of the most complex characters that readers have had the (dis)pleasure of encountering in modern literature.

To begin explaining the intricacies of the novel would be too sizable a feat without the help of a literary comparison. To help explain what I believe to be the most notable and intriguing facet of Toole's A Confederacy, I will call upon another author to help me, Mr. Frank McCourt, author of Angela's Ashes, McCourt's memoir. To make the statement that McCourt and Toole wrote in a similar manner would be flawed. However, to say they both treated their characters' truly despicable lives with a sort of charming humor would serve as a much more apt statement. Make no mistake, the trials and tribulations of the McCourt clan and the Reilly's are incredibly different. But both authors tip their hats to the utter tragedies that their characters suffer, and to compensate for this, both authors enlist the use of humor. For McCourt to write a memoir about his dismal childhood could have gone one of two ways: directly depressing or indirectly depressing, the latter being far more effective. To write a memoir entirely devoid of humor, entirely devoid of any sort of ability to make light of the hard knocks, would have been the most straightforward manner to deliver a memoir of this depth. But to write with the intention of being able to laugh at events so horrendous to a reader such as myself, ironically seems to exacerbate the underlying sadness felt by this author. In this sense, McCourt's use of humor is the most powerful tool in his arsenal to give the reader the ability to truly feel the depths of his characters' agony.
Likewise for Toole.

One can only wonder if Toole did not place much of himself and his own characteristics within his bizarre anti-hero, Ignatius J. Reilly. Though Reilly is said to be based primarily off of Toole's eccentric friend, Bob Byrne, it is difficult to look past the similarities shared by Toole and Reilly. Wildly misunderstood, isolated, yet with a strong desire for recognition, both Toole and Reilly embody a sort of modern-day Don Quixote, incredibly rooted in their ideals. Though a work of outlandish, raunchy fiction, perhaps A Confederacy was indeed a memoir of sorts. Detailing the good, the bad, and the ugly of his native New Orleans, it would appear that Toole identifies certain aspects of his own life through the vessel of Ignatius, a character who despite his perpetual hilarity, seems to yank the pity out of his readers with his incontrovertible adversity. The powerful use of humor comes across almost as a coping mechanism for both Toole and his characters, and that in itself amplifies the despair felt for and by these people. In this sense, I believe that to call them "characters" is inaccurate. They truly were real people in Toole's life, manifested in his work. This might be saddest realization to come to. Despite the hilarity and beautiful comic structure that both Toole and Ignatius master, the true sadness comes in realizing that the only thing these people had left was a joke at the end of the day to avoid coming to terms with the daily struggle of being themselves.
          Toole finished writing A Confederacy of Dunces during the last years of his life, but its repeated rejection from publishing firms coupled with the assassination of JFK and his father's failing mental health led Toole into a tailspin of severe depression and heavy drinking. After turning the final page of A Confederacy and wiping tears of laughter out of my eyes, I felt very hopeful for Ignatius and co., but also for Toole and the people in his life. The ending felt truly liberating. In my head I rejoiced for these people who had endured so much, on and off the paper. They were freed of the shackles that kept them rooted in their vicious lives, and I felt that new chances were around the corner. This "emancipation" is not to say that the ending was happy. The sense that the struggles endured by the characters would surely follow felt almost guaranteed, taking on a different form of new challenges. But to be fair, the ending felt as perfect as possible for a novel written by such a tormented soul. Through it all, my heart only broke a little more for Toole, a genius amongst a world of idiots, living in a real confederacy of dunces, driven to suicide by the demons within. Perhaps he was somewhat prophetic with this title, as no one seemed to understand his brilliance for many years to come. My comfort lies in the fact that Toole knew he could trust Ignatius with the battles he embodied his whole life. Wild, brutish, yet strangely lovable Ignatius J. Reilly will live on in these pages, and I find the utmost consolation in the knowledge that John Kennedy Toole will live on through this magnificent rascal for many more years to come.

No comments:

Post a Comment