Lets, get this
straight. Barry, a thirty three year loser, is tired with his shallow life. He
chats up a 16 year old girl at the movies. As she undoes Barry’s zip, her
father appears and does what any father would do, delivers a violent blow to
Barry’s testicles. That’s how he comes to be castrated (later, in hospital),
and that’s how Frank Turner Hollon’s novel gets its plot. Suspension of
disbelief? You bet! Try midget wrestling in a gay bar, a paternity suit from a
woman called Ginger who Barry can’t remember, (her father turns out to be the
big fish Barry’s insurance salesman boss wants to bring in), a support group
for men with genital mutilation. But wait, there’s more. And more. And more. A
jealous ex-girlfriend, an Asian exchange student, Barry’s mother, Ginger’s
mother. All these people know each other, at least they do by the end of the
novel. New Orleans must be a strange
place, and small. Life is a strange place lurches from unlikely
coincidence to unlikely coincidence like one of those old cartoons where all it
took for a villain to appear at an improbable time was for the cartoonist to
decide that would happen. The trouble is, a novel needs some sort of semblance
of reality.

Amongst the mayhem
of blocked toilets, dog turds, vomit and lewd scenes in showers, bathrooms, the
back seats of cars etc readers are presented with a character who is unlikeable
to begin with, but who attempts to redeem himself through devotion to his
child. Losing his testicles has made him reflective and sensitive, although not
so much that he won’t contemplate the idea of sex with Jennifer, the nymphet younger
sister of his girlfriend. When the whole crazy carnival arrives at its
conclusion we’re relieved rather than surprised or pleased. We read Jennifer’s
uncharacteristically philosophical take on Barry’s life as a statement of the
author’s intent in writing the book, not as a credible version of the real
Jennifer’s views. More in character would have been for her to seduce Barry in
the back bedroom, and for Barry to encourage that.

Life is a
strange place uses the device of castration to look
at what is important in men’s lives. Stripped of their ‘prized possession’ can
men find an identity, a moral purpose?  The book is written in brief chapters,
each containing at least one plot twist. In case you miss the point, Hollon
provides plenty of reminders (‘I’d forgotten my birthday’; ‘I thought I’d seen
him somewhere before’). The style is light and breezy; the pace at times
frenetic. You could be forgiven for thinking that you’re not meant to think
about the issues for too long. The answer to the central question of the book seems
to be yes, testicles might be more of a burden than a blessing. But would
castration make a puerile aging adolescent into a sensitive androgynous man?
Readers might feel that Hollon doesn’t quite pull it off.

© 2004 Tony O’Brien

Tony O’Brien, Lecturer, Mental Health
Nursing, University of Auckland

Categories: Fiction