Customer Reviews

Major Inversions

5 star:		(3)
4 star:		(3)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

Gordon Highland's Major Inversion is a first-person meta-tale dominated by the seductive and confident Drew Ballard, 80's tribute and Jazz fusion guitarist by night, commercial jingle scribe and drug enthused security guard by day. Highland writes with a narrative voice so full of wit and humor, it would be wise to read with a cynical cock-blocking fat friend at your side; the hair-metal spandex and verbal dexterity can make a persuasive cocktail.

Cynically sarcastic, though driven once the "pale and thin - bookish" (27) Layla enters the fold, Ballard jokes his way from jingles to a legitimate film score job, and ultimately into Layla pants, eventually shedding his rock-whore stage persona in favor of exclusivity. But despite the promise, Ballard's upward trend does not last.

Major Inversions incorporates metafictional elements to immerse the reader, beyond even the ability of Ballard's wit. References to the book itself permeate the text ("I'm getting better at this putting-one-word-in-front-of-another thing...Little periods every now and then to break it up for your short-assed attention span" [76]) and casual asides jolt the reader into introspection (when discussing his own adoption with a therapist the idea of journaling his experiences opens for the seemingly innocent, "Now there's a novel idea" [238]). But the most obvious and unique meta-element is the inclusion of song lyrics, complete with chord progressions, which act as distilled moments of clarity, delivered perhaps in the way Ballard naturally thinks (check out the "Look Inside" feature to see examples of these)

With the early introduction of Barron Vaughn, Major Inversions begins its true arc. The cable installer turned roommate, true to his "reptilian" (43) features, integrates his way into Ballard's residence then life then personal arc in surprising ways. He is the story's lurking demon, an arresting presence in all his scenes.

Major Inversions, from its...filthy...opening scene, to its final tragicomic pages simply works. You will likely not read a funnier book for quite some time.

Gordon Highland's first book is a stealth opus of sorts, borrowing from genres contemporary and historical. Greek Tragedy, Modern Comedy, high concept film, mockumentary, on-the-road epic, musical, you name it, it's in here! The story concerns one Drew Ballard, security guard by day, tribute band rocker by night, studio musician whenever he can land a gig or find the motivation...

Drew's trapped with an awful and manipulative roommate, trying to find his way in the world. He's at that tipping point from the inertia of a misspent youth into an unknown future as a "grown-up". It's difficult to get into major plot points without going spoiler-heavy, but suffice it to say Drew has his problems. He's tied up in Drug Dealing, a slowly failing band, a newly budding relationship, and new hauntings from ghosts of his past. It's simultaneously a slow dissolve into failure and an arduous climb to...if not success, then something that kind of looks like it.

Major Inversions is a solid first effort from Highland - if you like romance, slacker comedies, family dramas, if you're a music fiend, or you just plain want a good story, then pick this up. There's something in here to satisfy every taste.

It's so simple on the outside, this book. A slacker, content with a life many others would be writhing to get out of, in love with the perfect girl and in hate with the worst possible roommate. It seems so simple, the music inherent to the prose, adding an almost Pynchonian-quality to the prose, underscoring the scene with amusing little jingles. The day to day life of a dealer and user of whatever drug he can get his fingers on. On the surface, MAJOR INVERSIONS is so simple, but then you realize that it's anything not. Perfectly plotted, to the point that nothing is forgotten, everything driving the story closer and closer to the most fitting and unexpected of ends. At the end, you'll need sometime to sit there, let all the pieces settle in place, and realize exactly how perfect this book is constructed.

I once found myself immersed in a discussion concerning opening lines. What are your favorite opening lines? What makes a great opening line? Think about it. This is a good question, and though it won't make or break a novel, isn't necessarily what will decide whether or not you keep reading a novel, unless you're, say, maybe an unimaginative, attention-defecited individual, well, it never hurts to have a good opening line. And Gordon Highland, ladies and gentlemen, has a great opeing line in this here novel, Major Inversions. Unfortunately, I can't tell you what that line is as you may be receiving this transmission via family-friendly platforms.

Something else to ponder: have you ever found yourself in a bar, you know the type, where there's a stage, and you're confused as to why this place even has a stage, but there is one nonetheless, and at some point in the evening, a group of guys step onto said stage looking like they took a time machine from somewhere in the nineteen-eighties to the present time and place and they start kicking out the jams from their aesthetically represented era? And everyone loves it? Yes. This is how it is. Everyone loves those songs. Those times, even. And these guys are most likely playing these songs better than their originators ever could. Have you, then, ever found yourself in such a place or situation? You probably have. More than that, though, is this: have you ever wondered who, exactly, these guys are, or what they look and act like off of the stage, out of the makeup and spandex and whigs? Well, once again, ladies and gentlemen, Gordon highland delivers. He takes us into that world. He shows who, exactly, these guys are. Specifically one Drew Ballard. And I feel that Mr. Highland is a bit too familiar with this world. So much so I find myself wondering if he maybe does have a closet full of leoprad print, stretch materials, lipstick, blush, and a questionable number whigs, carefully stored on model heads.

According to the jacket copy, Drew Ballard has the perfect girl. I'll go with that. I think I can rightly say I would not mind such a girlfriend. Thing is though, anyone who has it that good is bound to screw it up, right? Well, he does. And it's painful. Painful in that oh man, I know precisely how he feels/what he's going through kind of way. And it's not just his girl, either. It's his whole world.

So it hurts. But it's never not engaging. Major Inversions is at almost all times hilarious, and also full of heart and sincerity.

You know, I can't help but feel that Drew Ballard really is out there, somewhere, in some bar, on some stage, playing an all-too-familiar tune. Could be my city, could be yours. Chances are, you wouldn't even know it's him, but I bet you're singing along.

Major Inversions is Highland's first novel, and it's got a high IQ and so many twists you'll need a chiropractor. Full of clever prose, wicked humor and colorful characters, It's a story about the precarious nature of human personalities, and how close we are to completely losing it. In fact, it has a couple of things going on at its core, the first being a somewhat sideways ode to hedonism: it's only when Drew tries to get his life together and become a responsible adult that his life truly jumps the rails for good. Is it karma coming to get him? In much the way the characters in Requiem for a Dream harbored delusions of grandeur that blew up in their faces, the Major Inversions triad-- Drew, Layla and Barron-- find themselves destroyed in one way or another by appetites that grew out of control. In Highland's book, however, the wrecking drugs appear to be much more ordinary: stability. Happiness. Normalcy. But further, the blame can't be passed around to all the characters equally in Major Inversions. The main difference between the two sets of characters is that those in Requiem controlled their own fates. They made stupefyingly bad decisions and fell under their own avarice. In Major Inversions, the characters aren't always at the controls; there is a puppeteer pulling the strings, so we can hardly blame those characters who find themselves broken at the story's close- they just didn't have the info required to save themselves. It's almost draconian the way the architect of the book's major disaster manipulates the lives of the others to satisfy a personal curiosity.

Aside from that, it's a story of identity, or lack thereof. What fills the vacuum when we don't know ourselves? When Drew loses himself to exterior forces, what does he become? Fantasy, usually. Edgewater's a suburban town gone schizo- its citizens slave in day jobs to bankroll their illusions. Drew's got issues; Layla's an innocent falling into all the pitfalls parents fear for their daughters (and some they would utterly gasp to imagine); Barron's an academic who has lost his way. But it's Drew we follow. At his job as a security guard at a courthouse, Drew guesses the monetary worth of those who pass through the metal detectors he oversees. When everyone in town has got a dollar sign tattooed to their foreheads, it's easy to let dreams of success and happiness mushroom out of control, growing into things we find hideous. Forget Chinatown; it's Edgewater.

This is a funny, dark book, that stays with you. If you like 80s music, hair bands, pop culture, and humor, then this is the book for you. I've seen references to Nick Hornby, and that is a great example, correlation. This was a fun read, very enjoyable.