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lola425's review
4.0
I loved the way the story was told, the back and forth between memories of his father's lingering death, his exploits on the island, his tumultuous relationship with Emma. Just perfectly told. You could feel even through his alcoholic fog, his lack of affect regarding his (many) poor choices, his obsessive desire for the Singularity, Currie's (the character) desire to live and love, regardless of the Capital T truth he claims he is telling. So if Currie's intent (the character or the author) was to sell us on the inevitability and superiority of the Singularity, he's actually done the opposite. Probably could stand to re-read this and pay more careful attention to the sections on the Singularity, it requires more careful thought than I was able to give it.
beckyblake's review
4.0
A conversation between author and reader, this book is a thought-provoking exploration of what it means to exist (with suffering and loss) and what our alternatives are (suicide, nameless wandering, or perhaps in the not-so distant future a machine-based existence devoid of error or pain). Flimsy Little Plastic Miracles is inventive and moving. Currie uses interwoven vignettes from various aspects of his 'real life' to question readers about the capital T we place on truth, and how we read fiction versus memoir.
laurelinwonder's review
3.0
This is one of those little postmodern books that get to you at points, but also leave the reader behind while it explores. I enjoyed some moments, but other times, it just was not engaging.
shelfimprovement's review
4.0
I never know quite how to respond to uber-postmodern novels, with the blurred lines between author and character, the unreliability of the narrators embroiled in identity crises. Despite the fact that I've taken lit theory classes, I never know quite how to describe the stories and structures and whatnot in everyday terms.
Flimsy Little Plastic Miracles is an existential crisis and a troublesome love story wrapped together with musings on truth and Singularity (the concept of machines developing consciousness). The narrator shares the same name as the author and I wonder how much of the story is meant to mirror IRL-Currie's experiences.
The character version of Currie has moved to a Caribbean island while the woman he has loved since childhood sorts out a messy divorce. While he's waiting for Emma to summon him, he reflects on the futility of their relationship and grieves for his recently deceased father. Pushed beyond his cognitive abilities to process anymore bullshit, he decides -- and fails -- to commit suicide. Instead, he allows the outside world to believe he is dead as he disappears to the Middle East, where he roams the desert less in search of redemption or epiphany as numbness.
The characters in this book are largely unsympathetic. They behave selfishly and often impulsively, and it's clear to me that the dysfunctional love story at the center of much of it is less about love than it is about a lack of self-awareness. Given the many musings on consciousness that Currie has folded into the story, I imagine much of that was intentional. It's an interesting contrast, the idea that machines may one day gain consciousness and buck against human conventions such as love and heartbreak set against this narrative of two people who are clearly just not even remotely close to being good for each other not matter how much they want to be together. They are a couple that literally has to engage in violence in order to feel when they are together, and not once throughout this book was I rooting for them.
To pull one sentence out of this book to sum it up:
Flimsy Little Plastic Miracles is an existential crisis and a troublesome love story wrapped together with musings on truth and Singularity (the concept of machines developing consciousness). The narrator shares the same name as the author and I wonder how much of the story is meant to mirror IRL-Currie's experiences.
The character version of Currie has moved to a Caribbean island while the woman he has loved since childhood sorts out a messy divorce. While he's waiting for Emma to summon him, he reflects on the futility of their relationship and grieves for his recently deceased father. Pushed beyond his cognitive abilities to process anymore bullshit, he decides -- and fails -- to commit suicide. Instead, he allows the outside world to believe he is dead as he disappears to the Middle East, where he roams the desert less in search of redemption or epiphany as numbness.
The characters in this book are largely unsympathetic. They behave selfishly and often impulsively, and it's clear to me that the dysfunctional love story at the center of much of it is less about love than it is about a lack of self-awareness. Given the many musings on consciousness that Currie has folded into the story, I imagine much of that was intentional. It's an interesting contrast, the idea that machines may one day gain consciousness and buck against human conventions such as love and heartbreak set against this narrative of two people who are clearly just not even remotely close to being good for each other not matter how much they want to be together. They are a couple that literally has to engage in violence in order to feel when they are together, and not once throughout this book was I rooting for them.
To pull one sentence out of this book to sum it up:
"A simple equation: time plus grief, multiplied by base human failure."There's a lot of grief and base human failure disguised as self-pity here. And yet, the book is an often lovely musing on many big ideas and I found myself completely engaged by Currie's writing. It reminded me of The Automatic Sweeteheart problem, a paper I had to write in a class I took on the philosophic groundwork of psychology that made me almost violent with frustration (that may have been because Sibicky too much enjoyed playing devil's advocate). If you're the kind of person who doesn't necessarily need a lot of plot movement or likable characters in their novels, if you like thinking about existential questions and deconstructing the lines between reality and fiction, I'm sure this is the book for you.
ebalon's review
2.0
If this wasn’t an audiobook that I could listen to while doing other things, I’m not sure I would have finished it. I’m just not sure I care about the singularity
jodyjsperling's review
5.0
I guess this book didn't quite land the way I think it should've, but so so much of it was exceptional. Currie's play with fiction and memoir really tapped into something important. He skillfully evoked David Foster Wallace and James Frey chastising both while simultaneously embracing both. He lauded Vonnegut and Nicholas Sparks and made me believe it all. Here was a book unencumbered by fear of being marked lowbrow that was in fact gracefully subtle and full of good art.
hskurat's review
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.5
rebeccafromflorida's review
3.0
I’ve heard great things about Flimsy Little Plastic Miracles by Ron Currie, Jr.
This is a novel veiled as a true story about a fictional (but very close to real) Ron Currie, and how after the love of his life Emma banishes him to a remote island, he ends up faking his death and selling millions of books.
Really interesting concept. But in reality, it was Ron Currie pining over his love for Emma, which is not my thing. I also didn’t love the characters of Ron or Emma. Both seem very selfish.
I wasn’t a fan of this book, but then again, I’m not a fan of anything love-story-like. And even though this wasn’t traditional love story, it was, in essence, a man pining for a woman.
For the full review, visit Love at First Book
This is a novel veiled as a true story about a fictional (but very close to real) Ron Currie, and how after the love of his life Emma banishes him to a remote island, he ends up faking his death and selling millions of books.
Really interesting concept. But in reality, it was Ron Currie pining over his love for Emma, which is not my thing. I also didn’t love the characters of Ron or Emma. Both seem very selfish.
I wasn’t a fan of this book, but then again, I’m not a fan of anything love-story-like. And even though this wasn’t traditional love story, it was, in essence, a man pining for a woman.
For the full review, visit Love at First Book