Tom
Robbins
In P.J. Thomas’s second novel, Gert’s Book of Knowledge, there
is a deceptively whimsical quality that draws one in at the outset and leaves
you with a semi-hollow pang of paradoxical delight-cum-remorse for all of the
antics you have been privy to over the course of this thoroughly engaging
ninety-three page journey. You don’t want it to end.
The hollowness I speak of is not of the superficial kind. It is more
akin to the kind of hollowness Eliot speaks of in his iconic ode The Hollow
Men, a poem that moves through a simultaneously light/dark
narrative, littered with scarecrows and columnal ruins, ending with the
playful, conflicted image of the prickly pear and the iconic whimper - in lieu
of the apocalyptic bang. The paralysis apparent in
Eliot’s metaphoric description of men caught within in a decidedly bleak
physical and emotional landscape is captured in Thomas’s fleet footed prose by
an attention to both broad and intimate personal details. The very first line
of the book sets the stage for an exploration of love and sexuality that,
although it is not always at the forefront of the narrative, it is always a
pleasingly teasing storyline that informs the adventures of the title character
and her cohorts from start to finish.
Gert’s journey, both physical, spiritual and philosophical takes the
reader to a variety of global sites that represent a cerebral longing for
knowledge - as Tom Robbins has pointed out - as an enlightening and profoundly
enriching toy. The writer tinkers wisely with the notion of playfulness as she
creates scenes that may remind some of us of past escapades where recreational
drugs, sex, rock and roll were at the forefront of a life changing learning
process. The difference between Gert and the rest of us may lie in the fact
that she never really loses her sense of whimsy, play and radical adventure,
even during the most somber and tragic moments. She is a kind of grown up Pee
Wee Herman with all her toys and her past ‘indiscretions’ intact - and proud of it. Like Peewee she is
always a child and always grownup.
"Gert . . . was renewing herself all the time. I try to define her but when I think I have pinned her she shifts,
slips into something I cannot quite
grasp. The paint on her portrait is never
dry. . . [She] was wearing pink eyelashes and a Goldilocks wig. Her
wedding dress consisted of ancient beaded Thai wedding
garments sewn together into a “tribal wrap,” as her designer called it, which barely covered her unmentionables . . . Cameron crawled out of the tent reeking
of good hashish and stood red-eyed and
laughing with his great wide teeth. We
all laughed and laughed with left-over high and giddiness from the days before, and then Gert bent over,
then each of us, one after another, careful
of our swimming heads, and we started to
pick up the trash . . . I think I enjoyed the cleanup most of all the wedding favours." (pp 68-69)
The narrator, Gert’s former lover and constant student,
continually reminds the reader of how down to earth this frequently flighty
character really is. He opens with a personal detail about his own life and
then embarks on a selfless journey of reminiscence and magical knowledge that
Gert herself is largely responsible for. She is one of those truly
memorable characters from fiction, like the zany off the wall personalities
that inhabit a Tom Robbins novel. They are made believable by an unflinchingly
personable and lyrical writing style that Thomas has cultivated in her previous
novel, Always Up and Down. In both pieces of
thoroughly entertaining and engaging fiction she has shown us, that, as Robbins
claims -
Gert’s Book of
Knowledge is all of the above.
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