'Anarchy' has substance, but too much style

By Rebekah Baldwin

Justin Taylor falls prey to many of the pitfalls encountered by first time novelists in his “The Gospel of Anarchy," published by Harper Perennial this year. The book is replete with indulgences, omissions and, at times, incoherency. It did, however, keep me interested with vivid detail, mysterious plot lines and unique storytelling approaches.

“The Gospel of Anarchy” tells the story of a group of anarchist kids living in a run-down house in Gainesville, Fla. called Fishgut. From the beginning, the main characters have differing ideas about what life as an anarchist looks like, but they all live in harmony, allowing each to his own. But peace in the house is disturbed after several of the young anarchists start a cultish religion that’s a kind of twisted off-shoot to Christianity. They call it Anarchristian, and it is based on the journal of an old housemate, Parker, who has gone missing.

The story begins with David right before he meets the Fishgut crew in the summer of 1999 and drops out of college to join them. It seems that he will be the book’s main character, but four other characters are the center of perspective for different chapters, and some chapters are told through a third-person omniscient narrator. Some of the story lines overlap, and it is helpful to see situations from multiple angles. This writing technique leads to a more complete picture of Fishgut than seeing it from one person only would. Also, it gave readers more of an opportunity to connect. Maybe I identify with Anchor, the young girl who becomes part of the scene for a summer but returns to school once classes start again, but someone else might relate to Katy, the powerful, alluring nymphomaniac. This story-telling approach was a welcome surprise.

Another unexpected element to “The Gospel of Anarchy” that I enjoyed was how mysterious it is in parts. After an intense description of a dream, that Katy and Anchor have simultaneously, was left as a cliff-hanger, I just had to read the next chapter to find out what they saw. The mystery surrounding Parker held me in suspense, also. Who was Parker? Would he return to Fishgut?

Just as soon as I would get into the story, I would be stopped in my tracks by confusing, nearly incoherent sentences. I would re-read them to try to make some sense, but usually came up with nothing. For example, “If we could create a world in which everything that is possible is also desirable, then there would be no possibility of hypocrisy or conflict between desires” — I've read that several times now and I'm still not understanding it.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind having to read something multiple times to decipher its meaning. In fact, I enjoy it every now and again. But Taylor’s philosophizing came across as total bullshit. Can anyone tell me what, “Desire is a strange attractor. Your longing warps the arc of the world's emergent truth,” means? Perhaps it went over my head. There were some clear ideas, but they were greatly outweighed by the nonsense.

Another thing that annoyed me about “The Gospel of Anarchy” is what seemed to me to be indulgences by Taylor — namely the lengthy descriptions of internet porn and the many vivid accounts of orgies. I wasn’t bothered by their inclusion in the plot — I understand that both served to further the story — but the length of time spent describing them seemed gratuitous and unnecessary. I don’t know if Taylor thought he needed the graphic sexuality to keep his reader’s attention, or if he just really enjoyed writing it, but I, for one, was turned off by it.

On top of that, “The Gospel of Anarchy” was highly unrealistic in places. Call me crazy, but I find it hard to believe that a bunch of kids in their late teens and early twenties are participating in orgies and polyamory. Even if they are, how are they not teeming with STDs? Why hasn’t anyone gotten pregnant? I would say it’s safe to assume that they aren’t using birth control or condoms, since they only live off of what they can scrounge out of dumpsters.

The detail with which Taylor describes Gainesville and its locales do help bring the story back to earth, at least. “I walked past the library, out to where East University becomes Hawthorne Road, and the sidewalk grew cracked and weed-split, and the homes needed paint jobs they wouldn't get,” he writes. I can picture the setting, and thanks to Taylor’s vivid depictions, I feel like if I were to drive to Gainesville I could find them.

This dedication to detailed description and other elements of Taylor’s writing style lead me to believe that he has potential. Overall, “The Gospel of Anarchy” is well-written and interesting, however, the fact that it is unintelligible, unrealistic and unnecessarily lewd make reading it a fairly unpleasant experience.