CONFIRM CHICAGO, by Adam Levin
Adam Levin’s extended new novel begins with a grandiose catastrophe. One day in November 2021, a crater opens up in Chicago and swallows part of Michigan Avenue, along with many thousands of people. It’s a timely draft in this age of disasters beyond parody, and Levin hilariously responds to the crippled official response. The mayor and his public relations men call the inexplicable disaster an “earthly anomaly,” as the euphemism seismic event has “earthquakes” and the term sinkhole reminds you too much of Florida: Sinkholes “made you think of swamps and they reminded you of armpits. Swampy armpits. Meth, opossums, thrush. … People in mourning didn’t need that.”
Among the mourners is one Solomon Gladman, a sad professor of creative writing, award-winning novelist and underground stand-up comedian. Gladman’s entire family – his wife, parents, sisters, nieces and nephew – perish in the anomaly, leaving him in a haze of agoraphobic grief, hazy by Xanax and whiskey. He contemplates suicide but cannot bring himself to abandon his parrot, who is so attached to Gladman that he begins to mutilate himself when Gladman is not around. So Gladman lays down to stay alive until the parrot has lived his life.
Meanwhile, young Apter Schutz has become the mayor’s right-hand man. Apter is sort of an avatar of meritocracy. Though only in his twenties, a long, heady section of “Mount Chicago” is devoted to his many ventures and successes. While trying to raise money for Bernie Sanders’ campaign in college, Apter devises a plan to sell patriotic page-a-day calendars that appeal to MAGA fanatics and white nationalists; the products are so hugely successful that he becomes a millionaire before he is 22. After selling the calendar business for a tidy profit, he makes another $5 million in cryptocurrency speculation, invests in a small press with his sister and becomes a successful psychotherapist. In short, Apter is having a much more productive third decade than most of us, and this is before even signing up for the mayor’s office.
Finally, in the wake of the Earth Anomaly, Apter’s skills are put to the test when he helps the mayor raise money for a memorial park for the victims, and he is sent to help Lollapalooza co-owners Ari Emanuel and Perry Farrell. meeting, hoping to put on a benefit concert. Apter convinces Emanuel and Farrell that one of the headliners should be none other than comedian Solomon Gladman – whom Apter has admired and influenced since he was in high school. But now Apter must convince the reclusive Gladman to sign up.
“Mount Chicago” is one of those riveting, polyphonic, absurdist epic novels like they used to make – think “A Confederacy of Dunces” or “The Bonfire of the Vanities” for example. — though to me, Levin most resembles his Chicago colleague, Stanley Elkin. Like Elkin, he has a heady but mournful sensibility, nihilism backed by vaudeville shtick; like Elkin, he has a knack for the riff and the digression, the labyrinthine shaggy dog joke that wanders and reaches until you almost forget the setup.
Unlike Elkin, Levin doesn’t always know when enough is enough. There is a strong “infinite joke” energy here, which, while often brilliant, can border on a sort of ‘Quentin Tarantino and Paul Thomas Anderson doing cocaine together’. There is a joke, told by Gladman, that is 13 pages long; a metafictional chapter where the author wonders if readers will imagine his face when reading about Gladman or Apter; a section about bartenders who can pick your perfect drink just by looking at you; long asides on the dated TV show “Entourage” and the actor Matt Dillon; and an elaborate joke about David Mamet’s opinion of Spielberg’s ‘Schindler’s List’. There is no doubt that Levin is a gifted wit and a master of repartition, but even with the best comedians at some point the orchestra starts playing and someone backstage is looking for the curtain hook.
Despite its sometimes irritating self-indulgence, “Mount Chicago” has passages of genuine charm and brilliance. My favorite sections are the chapters from the point of view of Gladman’s parrot, Gogol, who does a very convincing, sublimely comic and heartbreaking evocation of a bird’s perspective. I loved the chapters on the Mayor, a George Saunders-esque creation who wants the monument to be “our less depressing Auschwitz”, and who proposes to be praised by Barack Obama: “What an amazing leap of genius your mind had to take.” to even come up with the conceptual framework of the park, but this wall?Non-parallel!…If I may use your own words to describe to you what this wall of survivors means to me, I would describe it this way: it exceeds my miracle limit.”
In the final sections, when Apter and Gladman finally meet, the author achieves a lingering, operatic balance of comedy, sadness, and despair that is worth waiting for. It really is a breathtaking performance and brought tears to my eyes. Those last hundred pages showed me what kind of novel this talented author is really capable of.
Dan Chaon is the author of seven fictional works, including, most recently, the novel “Sleepwalk.”
CONFIRM CHICAGO, by Adam Levin | 592 pages | Double day | $30
