HOTEL BARS AND THE ART OF BEING CONSCIOUS
by August Delp
An empty nester and her college roommate seek the secret to living consciously in Delp’s debut novel.
What does an independently wealthy woman do once her son leaves the home to attend Swiss boarding school? Tend bar in a series of Seattle hotels, of course! Ever the seeker, Daisy Turner isn’t in it for the tips so much as the conversation. As the drinks flow and tongues are loosened, she has the opportunity to really learn how people think. Take adman Jim “Coop” Cooper, for instance. He’s open to discussing the meaning of life and the hazy morality of his profession while challenging Daisy to concoct original drinks to fit various moods. Coop talks Daisy into attending a consciousness conference with him in Tucson, which Daisy agrees to after learning that one of the speakers is neuroscientist Bianca Zanone, her old college roommate. The conference—and conference drinks—is inspiring enough to send both Daisy and Bianca off onto quests of the mind. Bianca tries to rescue the niece of a software mogul from a Japanese mind control cult; Daisy decides to hike a section of the Pacific Crest Trail in order to gain some perspective. Will either of them finally learn how to be conscious the right way? Delp’s prose is smooth and conversational, particularly the dialogue, which makes up much of this chatty book. Unfortunately, the reader is no more likely or unlikely to find wisdom in these pages as they are while sitting in a real hotel bar. Daisy is an unconvincing, frustrating protagonist. It’s difficult to imagine the mother of a 16-year-old feeling she is done with parenting, but leaving this aside, the fact that her emancipating act is to walk a section of the trail from the bestselling memoir Wild (2012) feels like a bit of a cop-out. (The book wears its influences ungraciously. Daisy dismisses Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance (1974)—the clear template for the book’s title—as unreadable.) The book’s wisdom, such as it is, is mostly laundered from other sources, and it’s about as satisfying as a watered-down rum and Coke.
A pop philosophy novel without much to say.