JOURNEY THROUGH A LAND OF MINOR ANNOYANCES

A debut road novel offers a coming-of-age tale.

It is August 1999, and 21-year-old Chaz Chase is on the road. With his 1959 Cadillac convertible he calls Pam Grier, a fedora, and a trunkload of unwanted screenplays (among other items), he calls the American highway home. His sidekick is a talking pit bull (only Chaz can hear him) named Max. Max was a Hollywood director in a previous life, and he loves to expound on the cinema of old (The Lady From Shanghai is just one of the many black-and-white movies mentioned). While on the road, man and dog talk about films and life and trade friendly insults (Max tells Chaz: “You sing as well as you write,” and he doesn’t mean that as a compliment). Where exactly are they headed? As Chaz explains at one point, he is “just wandering around trying to find myself. But I’m proving to be very illusive.” Chaz is also “processing” his divorce and coming to terms with a number of issues from his past. He reflects on things like how he used to set things on fire and his outlandish valedictorian speech. In this process of finding himself, Chaz also discovers a girl named Clitty. Clitty is just as outrageous as her name would suggest. The two form quite a pair, but is she the one Chaz is looking for? How will she react when he explains the true, darker reason he has embraced a nomadic lifestyle?

A story starring a young man with a fedora, a chatty dog, and an affection for a girl named Clitty has all the makings of a bonkers adventure. This is exactly what Kline’s narrative proves to be. The pages overflow with one-liners and silly wordplay. When Chaz spies a “No Cow Tipping!” sign, he wonders: “How much do you tip a cow? Twenty percent?” There are gags about turds, piss, and a man with three testicles. Things are made more absurd when the first-person narrative occasionally gives way to a screenplay format. Though the humor may not always prove to be sidesplitting, the mood is kept light enough for readers to take an interest in this oddball hero. But the book is at its best when venturing into more earnest material. At one point, Chaz makes a trip to visit his aging father in Santa Cruz, California. As much as the scene could be played for laughs, it is striking to see their strained relationship in action. Ultimately, underneath the fedora is a man trying to find his place in a tough world. And as much as the story talks about dog pee and Max’s advice to “Grab life by the throat and spit in its face,” the final pages end on a serious, if completely wacky, note about the precious, ephemeral nature of existence. It turns out a goofy fellow and his talking pooch provide as good a reason as any to consider what it means to be alive.

Rambunctious from the get-go, this zany tale still has plenty of lessons to teach.