A witty, comic novel in which God encounters plenty of very human problems.
Wilson’s debut features an opinionated, bad-tempered, sometimes hilariously contradictory version of the Judeo-Christian God as its hero, its anti-hero and very nearly its sole character. As the story opens, God is in his office busily going about his usual tasks of creating stars, galaxies and planets, but ever since he was knocked unconscious by Father Time in the foyer of his house, he’s been having problems recalling little details: “He had already begun a daily excursion through the waters of forgetfulness where He often ran aground on the reef of short-term memory loss, which was located not too far from the shoals of anger and frustration.” This leads to several embarrassing incidents, as when God takes some friends out for a night on the town but belatedly realizes that he’d grabbed the keys to his lawn tractor instead of his SUV. This prompts God to seek help; he tries over-the-counter supplements, but they do no good. He dislikes the Internet—he claims it was invented by the Devil and the government—but the special assistant he cooks up in his microwave wastes no time suggesting what the problem might be: God isn’t delegating enough. The author then delivers a droll commentary on American marketing culture: “By the end of that week God had become God Incorporated.” Wilson handles most of the story with precise comic timing. However, the book’s digressions into sexual satire tend to be odd or mean-spirited. Wilson’s version of God manages to be both likable and Old Testament-style vengeful: “God accepts name-calling and seldom responds, but He abhors being admonished,” Wilson tells readers, right before God kills the writer of a negative editorial.
An antic, often very amusing social satire that occasionally loses its way.