The Gum Thief by Douglas Coupland

Well, we’ve just had Christmas, so I’m going to write about one of my presents.

I didn’t know Douglas Coupland had a new novel out until a few days ago when I was browsing the shelves at Unity Books, in search of presents for Sean, and there it was, sitting there looking all new and promising.

Immediately, I added it to my list of stuff Sean could get me for Christmas and was not at all surprised to find it there when I unwrapped one of my gifts.

So I devoured it yesterday, in between picnics and visiting and half-watching movies, and finished if off this morning.

‘Thumbs up or thumbs down?’ Sean asked me when I was finished (our perpetual first question at book group – currently in hiatus cos Karen abandoned us for New York).

For me, it was a return to form. I’m a big fan of Douglas Coupland and rate him among my favourite writers (an ever-expanding group). I would say that he’s my favourite male writer, but that would sound patronising. I’ve loved - or at least liked quite a lot – everything I’ve read that he’s written, except his second-to-latest, jPod, which left me kind of cold, kind of annoyed and kind of wondering if Coupland had gotten meaner and shallower. (Other people liked it a lot though, so don’t just take my word for it.)

I need not have feared – in The Gum Thief, Coupland is back doing what I like in his work – mining the little lives of ordinary odd people with empathy and understanding. And making me giggle.

This is certainly not to say that all his novels are alike – each is definitely doing it’s own thing and exploring different kinds of ordinary odd people.

This novel is written in a different and interesting form – I guess it’s the traditional epistolary form, using letters and journal entries, but it’s often not really that clear who is writing what.

The novel begins with Bethany (early 20s goth-girl) finding out that a middle-aged co-worker at a stationary super-warehouse (Roger) has written a journal entry as if he was her, and it’s weirdly accurate. And thus begins an odd sort of friendship.

As well as the letters and journal entries, there’s also a novel-within-a-novel: Glove Pond. (‘I don’t remember the inspiration, but the words have always sounded to me like the title of a novel or movie from England – like Under Milk Wood, by Dylan Thomas – or a play written by someone like Tennessee Williams.’) There’s also a novel-within-the-novel-within-the-novel. And, like all Douglas Coupland novels, almost everyone seems to have the knack of making odd but beautiful observations about the world.

So, The Gum Thief gets a definite thumbs up from me.