In previous meta installments, I've been reading, or in some cases re-reading, works produced by fairly established writers. Today, in considering the work of author Benjamin Font, I'm venturing into the murkier waters of modern literary fiction. Or . . . kind of literary fiction, and I mean that qualifier for both the "literary" and the "fiction", because Font's genre, if you want to call it that, is fictional autobiography mixed with some . . . magical realism, maybe? I'm a little bit at a loss as to how to describe it, though "vaguely hallucinogenic" comes to mind.
"Fictional autobiography" ( probably deserves some unpacking. )
Which is not to say his writing is bad. I began deeply skeptical - you wrote a book which is essentially a transcription of you talking to yourself in the car, by which I mean, you having quasi-apostrophaic conversations with a girlfriend and/or a dog? Really? - and ended feeling a kind of grudging, amused, irritated affection. The works I sampled were at times and by turns fascinating, pretentious, whiny, finely wrought observations, kind of affected and deeply ridiculous, but yet . . . I would read more. He has, somehow, successfully gotten me invested in his self-created soap opera of his own life, which, it is worth noting, may bear only a passing resemblance to his ACTUAL life.
On the subject of his works: his current project is an audiobook [kickstarter; deadline is Jan.1, 2011] which purports to be about a (fictional) cult, The Sons and Daughters of the Earth, though they also seem to exist as a real group, or as a mostly-real group, though under a slightly different name - Children of the Earth. They have a blog , at any rate, which is run by a real person. (Font also has a blog.) I have largely come to the conclusion that it's probably all elaborate performance art. But more on that later. ( But more on that later. )
"Fictional autobiography" ( probably deserves some unpacking. )
Which is not to say his writing is bad. I began deeply skeptical - you wrote a book which is essentially a transcription of you talking to yourself in the car, by which I mean, you having quasi-apostrophaic conversations with a girlfriend and/or a dog? Really? - and ended feeling a kind of grudging, amused, irritated affection. The works I sampled were at times and by turns fascinating, pretentious, whiny, finely wrought observations, kind of affected and deeply ridiculous, but yet . . . I would read more. He has, somehow, successfully gotten me invested in his self-created soap opera of his own life, which, it is worth noting, may bear only a passing resemblance to his ACTUAL life.
On the subject of his works: his current project is an audiobook [kickstarter; deadline is Jan.1, 2011] which purports to be about a (fictional) cult, The Sons and Daughters of the Earth, though they also seem to exist as a real group, or as a mostly-real group, though under a slightly different name - Children of the Earth. They have a blog , at any rate, which is run by a real person. (Font also has a blog.) I have largely come to the conclusion that it's probably all elaborate performance art. But more on that later. ( But more on that later. )