Billed as a sequel to Douglas Coupland's famous debut (Generation X), this is actually no more of a sequel than any of the other novels he's written in the past 19 years. Coupland's books always follow a similar path, with clever-clever characters sitting around having witty conversations and telling amusing anecdotes that reflect the strange and wonderful society they're part of. Occasionally he fools us into thinking there's an actual plot going on (most notably in my favourite of his books, Girlfriend In A Coma) though that's rarely why we read Coupland. We read for his warm humour, his zeitgeist-surfing opinions, his slightly annoying characters, and his brilliant way with language. He usually manages to touch your heart too, somewhere along the way, which is always a bonus.
Generation A fools you into thinking Coupland is writing a thriller, with a pacy opening in which 5 disparate individuals in the near future are stung by (extinct) bees and subsequently bundled away by scientists for further investigation. It's all quite exciting - for Coupland! - until the writer reveals his true plan. This isn't a sci-fi actioner at all... but the set-up for a decameron. Don't worry, I'd have had to google it too. Fortunately, Coupland provides his own explanation...
"The Decameron is a collection of short stories written from 1350 to 1353 by Italian writer, Giovanni Boccaccio. The collection begins with a description of the Black Death. Then we meet a group of seven young men and women who flee from plague-ridden Florence to a villa in the countryside. To pass the time, each member of the group tells stories about lust, the nobility and the clergy."
And so Coupland segues into his own decameron, in which the five bee-sting victims (from the USA, Canada, France, New Zealand and Sri Lanka) tell a series of made-up stories that combine similar themes and elements to reveal more about their background, their world, and their generation... a generation that is rapidly becoming addicted to a new drug that stops them ever worrying about the future.
The transition between the two sections is awkward. As a reader, you're enjoying one story and then you're expected to jettison your excitement and devote yourself instead to a series of seemingly unconnected shorts. It makes for an uncomfortable and off-putting mid-section, but once you're over that hump Coupland again begins to dazzle with stories about the devolution of language into text speak, heavy metal fans who suddenly forget how numbers work, and a Sex With No Strings romance between two preachers.
Like all Coupland's novels, Generation A is bursting with ideas and a keen insight into the world and where it's going. He gamely tries to tie all the threads together to make sense of the plot as a whole, but by then it doesn't really matter. That's not why we read Coupland. Story isn't everything.
