Wirkus, “The Infinite Future” (Reviewed by Robert Raleigh)

Title: The Infinite Future
Author: Tim Wirkus
Publisher: Penguin Press
Novel. Year published: 2018

Reviewed by Robert Raleigh, January 2019.

This book will definitely not be everyone’s cup of tea, but if you like metafiction, as I do, chances are you’ll like this book. Wirkus has indicated in interviews that he was influenced Bolaño, which seems true. The first half of the book is reminiscent of the parts of 2666 that involve finding an obscure author. He’s also mentioned Borges as an influence, which I can see. The other influence that I don’t recall Wirkus mentioning in any interview I saw, but which seems obvious to me, is Italo Calvino. The absurd humor, the interlocking textual layers, even the idea of a story being told by a nun, all seem to come straight out of Calvino. But it’s possible this influence is indirect.

In any event, I greatly enjoyed this book. It’s a rollicking, funny tale of the search for an enigmatic Brazilian author by a librarian, a Mormon apostate feminist scholar, and a down on his luck wannabe fiction writer who sells his soul for a place in the respectable, corporate Mormon world.

The second half, ostensibly a science fiction work, actually turns out to be deeply moving tale of scholarly romance, a deft bit of misdirection.

I gave it 4 stars, rather than 5, because I don’t think it’s a completely successful book. It deserves 4 stars for biting off so much, for being daring and for succeeding in meeting some of its objectives. But ultimately, I think it falls short of being a 5-star work of greatness. Its the kind of book that needed to be 800 pages to hope to deal with everything that Wirkus took on. It was like doing a Reader’s Digest condensed version of 2666, which just wouldn’t be anywhere near as satisfying, much as this book ended up not being quite as satisfying as it could have been.

I’m looking forward, though, to more by Wirkus, and also intend to go back and read his first novel, City of Brick and Shadow.

I’m always happy to see Mormon writers breaking out of the confining straightjacket that their religion can be for them. It’s one of the greatest conundrums of the sometimes oxymor(m)on that is Mormon fiction: how do you wriggle away from a culture that wants everything, including its art, to be fundamentally didactic? Wirkus has expanded the boundaries of what Mormon fiction can be.

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