Affluenza (2009) –David LaBounty
By Gabriel Ricard
I have to admit that I was not initially looking forward to reading David LaBounty’s Affluenza. Like most readers with any new book I started with the summary on the back instead of the story itself. Nothing in those four paragraphs indicated anything special. I believed I was simply set for nothing more than a standard dark-comedy commentary on the standard greed of the even-more-typical American upper middleclass. I wasn’t anticipating something terrible. I just didn’t expect any surprises. It’s an old premise, and there’s not a lot of room left in its basic form to tell a particularly interesting story. David LaBounty anticipated readers like me. There is no doubt in my mind. It was the initial impression I took from just the first couple of pages. By the third page I realized that this may well be one of the most brilliant monologues on the modern American dream written in this strange, decadent decade that we’ve all found ourselves wandering through.
At times it’s difficult to believe that we’re already coming to the end of the first decade of the 2000’s. LaBounty has no trouble believing it, but one of his great storytelling knacks in Affluenza is in having his character feel the same way we do about the past nine years. The book relates most of the adulthood of its protagonist, an amoral, pitifully empty man named Chas Dash. However, it focuses much of Chas’ story on the last decade. Around the time when the evils of the credit card empire became a little too hard to ignore. These last few years when the supposed economic stability of the late-90’s began to crack. LaBounty reminds us of it all through Chas’ broken, almost-cruel eyes. We see the cracks turn to the desolation, the doom and gloom that has plagued our economy of the last couple of years. We are reminded of what these times have meant to us through Chas’ bleak, dry humor. His insight speaks of hope and happiness as if they are vague memories that exist only in dreams. There is a much larger story here than just the one Chas tells us. LaBounty strives throughout the book’s relatively breezy one hundred and forty pages to make some very astute opinions on the credit crisis. He is also eager to make some points on the idea that depending on your understanding of metaphors that there will never be such a thing as a drug-free America. One of the superb marks of Affluenza is how it makes all these points while never breaking away from the story. The plot doesn’t stop so LaBounty can rant and rave about the potentially hopeless mess we’ve gotten ourselves into. He simply tells the story of Chas who in turn uses his own story to make whatever point he wants to make from page to page. It’s not known for sure if LaBounty agrees with everything Chas says. It doesn’t really matter. The voice of Chas is one of such chilling, casual conviction that it’s difficult to imagine Chas’ opinions not mirroring LaBounty’s own. If only occasionally.
There are other characters in the story, but they hardly matter. Whatever we know about them is only to the extent of what Chas is willing to say. He never speaks of others unless they directly tie into his plunge into a trash-heap of debt so thick that it’s almost amusing. Almost amusing, because one of the book’s most chilling and effective tools is how easily relatable it all is. The one major thing that puts Affluenza on par with any current and straightforward horror fiction is the book’s stunning plausibility. Even when the book veers into quiet insanity like a car brought to an independent, terrified life of its own, we never forget who Chas really is. He is either someone we’ve met casually or known for a bunch of vaguely unsettling years. Or to take it into even more disagreeable territory he may in fact remind us of ourselves in some small way. He may even represent of what we’re capable of at our worst, although most of us would never actually admit that aloud. That LaBounty was able to piece together an extreme personality who never loses his edge in reality is impressive. It’s often the mark of the best writers. We only come to realize this fact about Chas when the book is finished. There’s no question that Affluenza is a harrowing homerun of dismal genius as you’re reading through. The end result is much more successful however with how strongly resonates long after you’re done. Its unforgettable ending is brutal enough on the first impression. Later on, going about the day it sinks further and further into the back of your neck. It exists around the corner of every thought you have. The ending succeeds where so many others have failed. Chas’ final words leave an echo that will be difficult to shake off. There’s no question that it will lead you into thoughts you’d just as soon not have to entertain. A long time has passed since I can honestly recall an ending so powerful and well-handled. I have not read LaBounty’s other books, but I can’t imagine a more flawless effort than this.
Documentarian Michael Moore is on the cusp of releasing a documentary on much of what LaBounty covers here. I haven’t seen the film, and I have no intention to. Affluenza tells much more than a filmmaker and all the visuals in the world ever could. It does so under the guise of fiction, doubling its effect in doing this and also in its creation of Chas Dash. He is an undeniable, disturbing character, and he deserves a place alongside the great sociopaths of modern fiction. A slightly less intelligent model of American Pyscho’s Patrick Bateman, Dash is no less an imposing figure. LaBounty deserves all the credit for that. He deals in stark, black and white simplicity in his imagery, language and characterization. He is nothing less than astonishing in what he creates. If this were a movie it would have serious potential at cinematic greatness. It’s not a movie though, and it doesn’t need to be. As a book it is powerful enough and then some.
I have the book. Now I especially cannot wait to read it. Yay David! Just a hundred pages in my current effort before I can launch into your imagination. Again, looking forward. Carolyn