Real Americans
A question after reading Real Americans by Rachel Khong: How often do you suspend disbelief while reading fiction? I don’t mean like “this guy is driving around with his zombie ex-girlfriend” (yes, I’m referring to I Am Homeless if This is Not My Home by Lorrie Moore) or “these sea creatures are talking” (Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt, which I have not read yet, but would like to). Those novels are considered literary fiction — not sci-fi — so readers accept the impossible as sort of an artistic method (maybe akin to Picasso’s portraits?) instead of world-building fantasy. No, I guess I mean more like a novel that is trying to be realistic, but instead feels a tiny bit like a sitcom when it comes to the neatly tied-together details.
My conclusion about this is that maybe we are willing to toss aside or ignore easy coincidences and highly improbable life trajectories if the journey is pleasurable. This is what I felt while reading Real Americans, specifically when it came to some *extremely* serendipitous encounters between people, totally unrealistic outcomes with regard to college admissions/financial aid/scholarships, and the “bwahahaha”-ness of the interplay between genetics and ethics. 75 percent of me was like, “This page-turner has my attention,” while the other part was like, “This is ridic.” But it was a good ride, Real Americans.
Real Americans could have easily slid into cloying territory for me — I mean, it nearly did! (But its overarching theme of “luck” saved it for me.) And when we are annoyed, we are quicker to criticize. So now I’m wondering how much a tolerance for a skewed reality just depends on how it makes us “feel.” Yes, with regard to books…but also with regard to life in general.
And I’m not sure what I think about that.
{Hey, I liked Real Americans just fine! It has been well-reviewed and is a Read With Jenna pick. I’d love to hear if others were perhaps tripped up just a tiny bit by some of the plot mechanisms.}
originally published on instagram