(Editor’s note: After a long hiatus The Literate
Man was forced to crank up the book review machine by a book so compelling we
had to share it with our readers. Eastbound into the Cosmos is
the type of book that reminds us what a pleasure a novel can be.)
Everett can’t seem to
make sense of his past or his future but he knows there’s got to be something
better than the shit sandwich he finds himself stuck in. In Eastbound
into the Cosmos we ride shotgun as he transitions from emboldened world
traveler and ESL instructor in China to a creature of fear and loathing
prowling suburban convenience stores.
It’s a tapestry of international, intercultural and existential
daydreaming that scours the deep and shallow themes of belonging. It’s a fascinating ride and it’s extremely
funny.
The unexpected death of
his father forces Everett’s return to his childhood home in Chicago and opens
up a can of emotional turmoil. He’s right
back where he started just several years older and less equipped to handle his
circumstances then before he left. And on
top of that his mother has been carried over the deep-end by a pony-tailed mystic and his crystals. Crazy abounds.
Finding it strangely difficult
to re-immerse himself in the vita
americana and a past that's left him behind, he does the only logical thing:
smuggling exotic mushrooms. Trafficking of Asian fungus may seem an odd
choice on the surface and that’s because it is.
His frenemy and ex-roommate from China, Dino, provides entrée into the
world of gourmet mushroom smuggling (“the premium”) but fails to provide a
road map. Dino’s interest in the
partnership is not purely commercial –a cult is involved- nor is it compliant
with Chinese Communist Party laws, or FDA guidelines, for that matter. Things get sideways in a hurry.
But superseding his
mushroom entanglements is the guerrilla war he’s waging with his mother for her
soul: Everett searching for the mom he used to know as Tucky the new-aged guru drags
her into the light via hypnosis, naked yoga at dawn and an abundance of sage
burning. Battle lines must be
drawn. The conflict culminates with a memorable
confrontation at his guru nemesis’ dojo that goes just about how you might
expect.
But the thing about Everett
is that he doesn’t give up, even if most of his efforts register high on the pathetic
scale. And that sloth-like relentlessness
along with his unfailing narrative honesty is what makes him so compelling. He sets out to shred through the veil of insanity
he finds himself enveloped in and despite his lack of success he trudges on –partly
because he’s got nothing else to do and partly because buried underneath his
strange and sometimes shameful behavior is an innate sense of justice nudging
him along. As he works through the ambient
lunacy he realizes that one man (or woman’s) crazy is another man’s
divine. And underneath the veneer we’re
all more or less looking to get to the same place, we’ve just got different GPS
coordinates to get there. The search for
that commonality is what get’s him out of bed in the morning…usually quite late
after sleeping in and trying to avoid his mother.
The story hums along, jumping
continents and calendar years, filled with hilarious moments and propelled by
the multidimensionality of the people and places we’re introduced to. Burke does a masterful job amidst the milieu
of East/West, past/future exploring what it means to belong in both time and
place. In the parlance of Everett that may sound like a lot of
"new-age hooey" and it kind of does, but Burke has superbly grounded
the characters and the backdrops and avoided the trap of devolving into
something cartoonish.