PLASTIC

In this cautionary tale, the world is made of plastic: easily broken, superficial, and unnatural.

Written in a mix of screenplay action lines and first-person narration, Guild’s debut novel concerns a group of plastic women and men, Barbie and Ken dolls in all but name, living and working under the thumb of a glitzy technodystopia. History for these figures is chiefly the epic tragedy of 50 million dead in the “big nuke war” of the last generation. What has it brought figure-kind? Someone like Erin, a sensitive young woman with a wealth of problems, who works at Tablet Town and spends most of her time moving through virtual worlds in her Smartbody, seeking solace from the pressures of a society that interacts with itself largely through phone apps and other social media. Self-consciousness is the order of the day here. Sad Erin is a voracious consumer of a television program called Nuclear Family, which at times directly parallels the action of her life, specifically the story of her well-meaning but struggling father, and features among other concerns a look at the political divide between the liberal plastic people and the conservative waffle people—who are made of, yes, carbohydrates and rubber appendages. Yet she also is inside not only a self-policing surveillance state but, seemingly, her own TV series, surrounded twice over by the unflinching glare of the camera lens. Insert into this Technicolor nightmare an eco-terrorist organization known as Sea Change, which assails civilians with guns and bombs to fight the apathy of the status quo, and you have a meta-tale of human emotion and agency gone more than awry: It’s in danger of burning off a dying planet from a once-and-for-all nuclear holocaust. Guild works the parody and pathos well in this thoughtful entertainment, expertly managing to extract concern and sympathy for the plights of these plastic characters, as human as we are despite their occasionally squeaking leg hinges.

An amusing, kindhearted tale of a troubled alt-world.