DETOUR DIMENSION

A debut absurdist novel parodies The Twilight Zone.

The year is 1962. A man in a skinny tie named Ron Sterling is in the Port Authority bus station in Manhattan. Ron is buying a ticket for Binghamton, New York, otherwise known as the “Fifth Most Depressing City in The Country.” Ron Sterling bears a striking similarity to Rod Serling of The Twilight Zone, right down to the Chesterfield he’s smoking. But Ron hosts something called The Detour Dimension. Things seem normal enough until it turns out the bus driver is a “Hot Dog Man” named Frank Weener. When Frank is not driving a bus, he is writing, and he hands a spiral notebook to Ron. Readers are introduced, via Frank’s writings, to The Anarchists. The group, with names like The Crazy Clown, Mr. Dude, and Larry Lutz, is seated at The Pancake House. The members of this crew discuss what they have been up to lately. The Crazy Clown, for instance, plans to park an M41 Walker Bulldog tank in front of a bank and sell Communist-themed ice cream. How does he manage to keep the ice cream cold? He explains to a questioning policeman he does so with “Cold War tactics.” The novel goes back and forth between such outrageous actions, both in Frank’s writing and on Ron’s journey. Mr. Dude teaches a poetry class, though he mainly has his students pretend to be him and take turns overseeing the proceedings. Then there’s action back at The Pancake House, where weird things happen. During a football game, “the Worcester sauce bottle in the middle of their table picks up nothing but John Madden and Pat Summerall.”

When readers first meet Ron and Frank, things are perplexing. While anyone familiar with Rod Serling’s work can easily imagine what Ron must look and sound like, what exactly is a Hot Dog Man and how does he manage to function like a human? In addition, it’s easy to be confused by The Anarchists, who are also called “comedians.” By the time The Crazy Clown talks about his tank, it’s clear that anything may transpire, with or without a satisfactory explanation. Nevertheless, once this tone is established, there is a great deal of humor to be found. In Mr. Dude’s poetry class, one student named Claude Spectrum puts on a drum machine and repeats the word Carbohydrates over and over again. The narrator later informs readers that “Spectrum’s deceptively simple lyric, stapled to an irresistibly militant rhythm…is ridiculously rich with allegorical, elliptical, empirical and erotic suggestion.” It’s a funny scene followed by a hilarious explanation. It’s also exactly the type of thing that might happen on The Twilight Zone if the episode were written by an insane part-human, part-hot dog bus driver. Keay’s book manages such playfulness without the sort of cruel mockery that sometimes surfaces in parodies. As zany as the scenes get, they maintain the feel of a tasteful homage. While not every bit lands as neatly as a Worcester sauce bottle that picks up football commentary, the novel never lets up on the fun.

This amusing adventure delivers an enjoyable romp through a bizarre yet familiar landscape.