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In Persuasion Nation [Paperback]

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Item Number 392333  
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Item Specifications...

Pages   228
Est. Packaging Dimensions:   Length: 0.75" Width: 5.25" Height: 7.75"
Weight:   0.45 lbs.
Binding  Softcover
Release Date   Mar 6, 2007
Publisher   Riverhead Trade
Age  18
ISBN  159448242X  
EAN  9781594482427  

Availability  0 units.

Item Description...
Contains a collection of short satirical works, including "The Red Bow," in which a town is consumed by pet-killing hysteria, and "Bohemians," in which two Eastern European widows attempt to fit into suburban America.

Publishers Description
From the "New York Times" bestselling author of "Tenth of December," a 2013 National Book Award Finalist for Fiction.
Talking candy bars, baby geniuses, disappointed mothers, castrated dogs, interned teenagers, and moral fables--all in this hilarious and heartbreaking collection from an author hailed as the heir to Kurt Vonnegut and Thomas Pynchon.
"The first thing you ought to know is that Saunders is the funniest writer in America... But] Saunders's laughs are a cover, a diversion, beneath which reside some profoundly serious intentions regarding the morality of how we live and hte power of love and immanent death to transform us into vastly better creatures... I can't think of another writer who would try to do what Saunders is doing, or anything close to it. This is an important book."--"The Nation"
"Saunders is a hilarious, wicked, and pitch-perfect satirist of our times, of course, but for a satirist he has a whole lot of heart."--"Esquire"

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More About George Saunders

Register your artisan biography and upload your photo! MacArthur "Genius Grant" fellow George Saunders is the acclaimed author of several collections of short stories, including Pastoralia and CivilWarLand in Bad Decline, as well as a collection of essays and a book for children. He teaches in the creative writing program at Syracuse University.

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Reviews - What do our customers think?
"America, to me, should be shouting all the time"  Jun 15, 2008
I heard the author at a book reading when his previous collection, "Pastoralia," came out. I asked him how he conceived his intricate, twisting stories. He replied that it was like tossing a stick out for your dog to fetch, but the dog comes back with a baby's severed (I hope) arm in his mouth. Or maybe it was a doll's head, or a real one. You get the picture, however.

As "Pastoralia" marked a shift into more humane characters if no less bizarre scenarios away from the corporate-psychobabble-consumerist dystopias of his first collection, "CivilWarLand in Bad Decline," so "In Persuasion Nation" depicts his fumbling figures adrift in a more media-driven setting, farther from the tract homes, chain stores at the strip malls, and "business parks" of his earlier stories. He's an acquired taste, and not a quick read despite the superficial facility of his prose. Like Vonnegut, with whom I sense here an increasing connection, Saunders strives to marry the morality tale to the satirical invective against homogenization and conformity that masks its domination in the cant of buyer's (or voter's!) choice, free-enterprise, and relentless salesmanship.

More humanity, and less concentration on verbal tics and ingenious vignettes, shows Saunders' evolution as a writer. The four sections gather stories into patterns that, especially at the start and closing, recalled for me an unlikely but indirectly perhaps influential predecessor: James Joyce's "Dubliners." As nearly a century ago the pattern of social paralysis emerged through stories arranged from childhood to adolescence to public life to maturity, before entering the sublime and disturbing epiphanies of "The Dead," so here do twelve entries arrange themselves in a similar order. Part One takes on growing up; Part Two enters into suburban families; Part Three explores speculative terrain of lab research, mass marketing and media blitzing; Part Four combines character studies with harrowing accounts of violence past and present. Each section's prefaced by a brief excerpt from "Bernard 'Ed' Alton" who in his "Taskbook for a New Nation," targets those who will not conform to the cornucopia of crap.

The "health of our commerce" is first defended by such Power-Point middle-management protegees. Saunders in earlier fiction delved into their world. Now, he looks out on those who are sold such a bill of goods. The first three stories explore "free"-enterprise that limits autonomy. "I CAN SPEAK!tm" introduces a baby's toy, a mask that makes the tot articulate beyond infant ability; "My Flamboyant Grandson" enters a near-future in which citizens are beholden to tap in to an electronic system haranguing them for marketing "opportunities" and a grandfather's grim duty to this Orwell-meets-Philip K. Dick surveillance contrasted with his wish to allow his charge a bit of freedom. The elderly man tries to rebel:

"What America is to me, is a guy doesn't want to buy, you let him not buy, you respect his not buying. A guy has a crazy notion different from your crazy notion, you pat him on the back and say, Hey pal, nice crazy notion, let's go have a beer. America, to me, should be shouting all the time, a bunch of shouting voices, most of them wrong, some of them nuts, but please, not just one droning glamourous reasonable voice." (21)

Wise words as we witness a presidential campaign or a P.R. blitz. "Jon," nearly a novella, takes on a community where children have been raised as a test market and can by "lendelling" call up in their visual field by blinking an array of memories mixed with databases of endlessly recalled ads that tug at heartstrings cleverly. The tale, I thought, was about to end just when it hesitated and gained verisimilitude (no easy feat) and continued into a more satisfying conclusion than I'd anticipated.

Saunders' ability to take on longer stories bodes well for his staying power. So many of those with whom he might be compared such as Richard Brautigan, Nathanael West, or even later Pynchon or Vonnegut, have foundered in keeping up their imaginary powers. Part Two's prefaced by "Ed"'s defense of preferences, against those who "citing equality, deny our right to make critical moral distinctions." The weakest story, "My Amendment," imagines a legislative remedy for gender mis-matches, but it fails to engage, and its dullness as a letter to the editor keeps it plodding. "The Red Bow" by far turns the grimmest entry here, a suburban apocalypse as the lives of pets are pitted against the death of a child. It'd make a great short film. "Christmas" stays on the other hand totally realist, as its race and class tensions give a calmer indication of Saunders' willingness to step outside of his familiar funhouse milieu.
"Adams" explores neighborly tensions, but ends rather in a pat fashion.

The third section opens with "Ed" targeting dissenters and naysayers. Those who refuse to go along with the program make these three stories the closest to Vonnegut and these capture a countercultural flavor, not dated in its attitudes, but updated for our wired sensibilities. "93990" briefly considers primate lab experiments in a thoughtful, nearly understated way. "Brad Carrigan, American," tackles ambitiously the complacency of our national greed and our ethnocentric ignorance. Why Brad's backyard morphed and how this tied into his predominance on this reality-TV show remained less than clear to me, but this may be intentional, as the blurred explanations fit into the ultimate fate of the protagonist. The hand of the satirist may be rather heavy in parts of this story, but its conclusion managed to gracefully place this setting within one that recalled many tales of mortality and fate.

Similarly, the title story plunges you into a place reminding me of a Tibetan bardo, a liminal realm of the afterlife. Creatures and characters from ads who have been pitilessly forced perhaps by a divine power or its false similacrum to enact their pummeling and submission to clever animated products (it's hard to describe this!) decide to fight back against their commercial tormenters. It reminded me of a Harlan Ellison story in which people realize they are trapped within a larger, capricious, power's evil consciousness. Jim, "the penisless man," protests as he struggles for enlightenment whether the characters could not join "to devise a more humane approach? An approach in which no one is humiliated, or hurt, or maimed, an approach in which the sacred things in life are no longer appropriated in the service of selling what are, after all, merely---" (171) He's cut off at that moment by a higher power, so his moment of articulation remains attenuated. But, it's as close as we come in this collection to Saunders' defense of the human (even in CGI form?) against the implacable rulers who dominate individual freedom and crush our better selves. Theologically intriguing, it veers into the spiritual after it had begun on an equally inspired parody of commercialized sentiment. The story ends perfectly.

The last two, in part four, take on "Ed" who warns that people must not let their words be used against them. It's ambiguous, as by now "Ed" in this dictum may be taken up on the side of the dissenters, I suspect. "Bohemians" returns to the working-class stagnation of "Christmas." It shares a humble Chicago setting; it's realistic, more nuanced look at two elderly ladies each claiming to be refugees from Eastern European pogroms, and how the boy who tells the story must grapple with what he learns about their pasts. It's comparatively straightforward, and such urban coming-of-age tales make for a respite from the demanding and disorienting fictional worlds that dominate Saunders' imagination.

"Commcomm" returns to the title story's combination of a moral clash that involves supernatural forces along with ghostly characters mingled with institutional power. A daunting mix, this time not the media but the military, as a base faces shutdown and Homeland Security wishes to replace its facilities with its own. The story cannot be summarized further without spoiling the plot, but it marks an advance. Saunders by now can combine his half-humorous, half-poignant depictions of office politics and workplace dissension with his more gruesome indulgences into violence and death, while somehow rising above to a graceful conclusion that again reminded me of an epiphany in a Joyce story, above the paralysis, for once, rather than mired in it.
strong collection that's a good place to start with Saunders  Jun 9, 2008
Saunders' collections require readers to reorient their viewpoint. often times, you have to reorient your viewpoint at the start of every piece. yet, the worlds often seem to share the same authorities, powers, legal systems, and villains. And, like certain bands -- if you can get into the strange rhythms, suddenly everything will make sense from story to story and even collection to collection.

"I CAN SPEAK!" starts things off with a fantastic letter written in response to a parent complaining about a device that allows children to speak before they know how to speak. The title piece and "CommComm" are the other strong standouts.

Not everything works -- "93990" is nothing more than a gruesome lab report describing the death of numbered animals for the sake of science. While a climax involving a chimp that frees himself from bondage may have crossed a line of natural plot progression, offering nothing more than the current ending (I'll spare the spoiler) leaves the reader wondering why there is so much to read with so little to consider (other then "animal testing sure is awful.")

Similarly, "My Flamboyent Grandson" seems to be undercooked, relying more on the world then the characters to impart some greater statement about individuality. Indeed, Saunders often leaves the power to change in the hands of media/advertising, reducing his characters to reactionary personalities instead of actors. A positive outcome is not necessary for a story or even a collection to work, but the individual pieces could do more then hammer home the idea that certain forces are all-powerful and irresistible and that individuals don't triumph very often.

Saunders isn't always easy but he's often quite fun. If you enjoy a skewed perspective, give this collection a shot.
utter gibberish  Feb 3, 2008
This book is in outer space. Normally if I read a review like that I'd think great, that could be interesting. Not this book. I can appreciate Barthelme and Joe Frank and Glass, but Saunders and his readers must be on something I don't take. Utter gibberish.
how writing should be  Jan 31, 2008
Beautiful, weird, witty, charming and unorthodox. This is how writing should be. He proves that the absurd generates its own powerful truth. One of my favorite authors these past years, along with Russian writer Viktor Pelevin.
Unreadable  Jan 9, 2008
It is very rare that I start a book and then find the author's use of language so bizarre that I literally cannot finish the work. This book is indeed surreal. Saunders sets his stories (as far as I can tell) at some unspecified time in the future when the world is on the ropes and technology isn't helping human beings communicate. Saunders adds to this disconcerting effect by stringing together words and sentences that I found utterly confusing. For a lot of the time I did not understand what either he or his characters were trying to say. The words lifted off the page and then started fighting each other before they reached my eyes. Perhaps my mind was in neutral the day I tackled this collection. I have another one of his books on the shelf and will try to make my way through that.

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