The Nuclear Age [Paperback]

THE NUCLEAR AGE begins with a profoundly eccentric act: William Cowling, at age forty- nine, undertakes to dig a nuclear shelter in his backyard. As his wife and daughter watch his progress (first as observers, then as captives), Cowling ruminates on his life thus far; as a child, he built a bomb shelter under his family's ping-pong table, lining it with pencils so that the 'lead' will arrest any incoming radiation. As his life progresses into the 1960's, he falls in with Sarah, a past object of obsession, who takes his fear of death, and uses it to transform him into a draft-dodging terrorist.

To tell more would be to tell too much; one of THE NUCLEAR AGE's considerable charms is that it continually takes left turns when the reader expects a right. William's life is nothing if not unpredictable, but it follows a precise logical line when looked at in hindsight. His misadventures as a child with a family doctor lead to unusual complications with later relationships. His fear of death serves as prelude to his obsession with a mysterious poetic flight attendant. O'Brien embroils William in the underbelly of American life in the 1960's, portraying the protests and conflicts over the Vietnam war from the perspective of the seriously disenfranchised. William's dread and paranoia guide him inexorably to the polar opposite of organized government, culminating in a black comedy of warfare training that is the darkest and most twisted characterization of boot camp since FULL METAL JACKET.

O'Brien is not simply a protester with talent; he is a keen observer of the minutiae of life that makes life worth living. His masterpiece in an already exceptionally written novel is his description of the night William and Sarah truly come together. O'Brien captures the subtle nuances of the beginning of a courtship, a full-blooded depiction of one of those nights every
person has, a night we wish would never end. They are initially thrust together during a college dance pair-off, where William confesses his past admiration of her in high school. As the evening progresses, they slowly grow closer, as Sarah begins to see the human underneath the person she studiously avoided. They even kiss, but despite the wonderful atmosphere O'Brien
constructs, Sarah denies that anything will ever happen between them. And then, the next day . . .

'When I looked up, Sarah was there.

'Which is how it always happens - that fast. She was simply there.

'We stood inspecting each other. Her hair was pulled back in a businesslike ponytail. She wore blue culottes and earmuffs and a silver letter sweater.

'"What you remind me of," she said after a moment, "is tooth decay. No sleep, I'll bet. Bad dreams."

'"Surprise," I said.

'"You could've called."

'"I could've. I didn't."

'Her lips brushed across my cheek.

'It was all I could do to nod. There was an absence of symmetry, a strange new tilt to the world.

'"Well," she said quietly, "a girl likes to be chased. Hot pursuit. The feminine mystique, I guess."

'Sarah shrugged. She made a low sound, not quite a sigh, then took a step forward and turned and stood beside me.

'"Don't expect miracles," she said. "You and me. A trial period, understand?"

Something about O'Brien's phrasing, the atypical rhythm to his writing, brings about an air of aching nostalgia that is completely believable. The curious but precise timing O'Brien uses captures William's slowly degrading mind perfectly. And at the height of William's anxiety, O'Brien manages the substantial accomplishment of creating total empathy with William's madness.

THE NUCLEAR AGE can be an often unsettling read. As O'Brien demonstrates the apprehension and fear that the nuclear race created in the twentieth century, he inadvertently captures the very real fears of people in the early twenty-first century. We exist on a precipice of destruction and violence, and how we react to the pressure will define who we are, as it defined William. THE NUCLEAR AGE presents one option, one course of action; let's hope that another one exists.

The story is told in chapters alternating between the present (1995) and the past going back to the narrator's childhood. The narrator grows up during the height of the cold war, dodges the draft, and joins the anti-war movement. While this should be an exciting time, it instead feels like a drug induced sleep. I never got the impression that any of the characters really cared about anything other than themselves.

Somehow the main character winds up rich with all his dreams fulfilled. Except that his daughter is a whiny brat (I honestly can't stand writers that use italics in every sentence.) So we are left with an anti-climatic ending that resolves absolutely nothing.

This book isn't scary, funny, or insightful. It wanders aimlessly before dying without a whimper.