magill

Disclaimer: I'm inconsistent on ratings. I'm not firm on the question of whether to grade something by its real merit or as an example of its genre. Witness: Water for Elephants (which I gave a staggering five stars), which is only a good book because the rest of the genre is so bad. I've gotten into the habit of rating books based on the pleasantness or unpleasantness of surprise if the book turns out to be different from what was expected. Fortunately for this exercise, my admittedly capricious judgment was not compromised by Simon Pegg's book. It fails as both memoir and literature. I compromise nothing by giving it two stars. Nerd Do Well is neither funny nor informative. Shaun of the Dead was one of few redemtive moments in the previous decade's comedic/cinematic death rattle (alongside Harold and Kumar and the woefully underrated Let's Go To Prison). Though many things got funnier (television, the internets), the big screen - like pop music - seemed to languish. So why is it that one of the decade's funniest film stars isn't funny on paper? The written word is more expansive than the confines of the camera. Simon Pegg has both vision and formal education. All signs pointed to Nerd Do Well containing at least a handful of laughs. Turns out I can count the number of times I laughed on one hand. The main reason is Pegg's thesis isn't believable. He professes to have been a "nerd" and heavily into science fiction as a youth. From experience, I can say that actual nerds do not amass the impressive scorecard of sexual conquest that middle-school age Simon Pegg boasts about through a full third of the book. Actual nerds may beat the celibacy curse in their teens but their sexual activity is of the awkward rather than rock star variety. I don't begrudge the young Simon Pegg for his obvious good times, but he cannot be both a sexually active 7th grader and a science fiction geek. Such a combination doesn't exist. (There is a mild creepiness to the obsession with middle school base running, anyway. Supposing there is a need to discuss one's pubescent sexual experiences, the addition of detail is problematic when the writer is currently a middle-age man describing the nude anatomy of 13 year old girls. It's less than Humbert Humbert's painful soliloquy, but still well beyond the limit of traditional mores.) The second big problem North American readers will encounter is the incomprehensible construction of the English education. Simon Pegg uses terms like "secondary modern" and "seventh year" that I thought were only affiliated with Elvis Costello songs and Hogwarts. When paired with the dense Enlish slang, a substantial percentage of the book is rendered into a foreign language. Reading Nerd Do Well is a little easier than reading a Spanish language newspaper, but is fundamentally the same. One has to read and reread passages, hoping to understand the unfamiliar words through placing them in context. The book is not without its bright spots. When Simon Pegg explains the Oedipal subtext of Shaun of the Dead, for example - which is brilliant. The author's sophisticated comparisons of Star Wars to US involvement in Vietnam and the cold war in general is even more interesting. The problem is one doesn't have to consult Simon Pegg to entertain this line of discussion. Ever since Clerks liberated my generation, broad discussions of the ethics and political significance of Star Wars became regular fare for dorm rooms, late nights, and barrooms. Pegg's insights are of exceedingly good quality, but he's hardly the only place to go for such insights. Walking away from Nerd Do Well, I'm given to remember it as nothing more than a rambling discussion of Star Wars, which doesn't seem to have been the point. But one has to have periodic conversations about Star Wars to stay healthy - and those conversations become much less frequent in the company of a spouse, who in my case is female (females are notoriously apathetic about Star Wars as a bloc). In this respect, Simon Pegg acted as a conduit, giving me important Star Wars news. For example, I did not realize the original version of the trilogy (the one without skinny Jabba the Hutt or Max Rebo Band raps) is available on DVD. I owe Mr. Pegg a great debt for this bit of information that has somehow escaped my attention for who knows how long. This isn't to say I completely agree with Simon Pegg on Star Wars. I share his basic opinion that the prequels were unnecessary and abominable. But he's too hard on my beloved Episode I. Baby Darth Vader, podracing, Boss Nass, and Jar Jar Binks are dear to my heart because of their absurdity. I projected a little too much, but I imagined George Lucas playing an enormous trick on the world - like Andy Warhol insulting millionaires by selling them paintings of soup cans or Prince tricking macho R&B fans into condoning transvestitism. It turns out George Lucas just made a huge mistake and tried, vainly, to correct it in later installments. If Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith (which I remember virtually nothing about, by the way) were as silly as The Phantom Menace I'd love them just as much - out of a sincere devotion to absurdity. I'd have thought Shaun would have latched onto the absurdity for the same reason and at least embrace Episode I's more outrageous moments. Of course much of my criticism may actually be unkind. Simon Pegg is only human. He started talking about Star Wars and got carried away, at the expense of his work. As I sit here preparing for my own workday, I find I have just spent 30 minutes longer than expected digressing about Star Wars myself. While this definitely lends a human element to Simon Pegg's apparent failure, it isn't enough to change my mind. No matter how great the professionally polite news readers on NPR make Simon Pegg come across in interviews, do not read Nerd Do Well. Oh, as an aside, I did enjoy my 2 year old's reaction to the book's cover. The first time he saw it, he smiled, pointed, and said, "Daddy!" Though I sort of hated the book, I still like Simon Pegg and am not ashamed of being grouped into his basic physical category (chunky glasses, occasional facial hair, fair Anglo-Saxon features - though I (regrattably) do not own a white suit or drink many cocktails). It is better than my friend, who's 2 year old son proclaims, "Daddy!" when Jack Black comes on the TV.

2023-06-08 11:03