cover image Processed Cheese

Processed Cheese

Stephen Wright. Little, Brown, $28 (400p) ISBN 978-0-316-04337-3

The disappointing latest from Wright (Going Native) takes place in an alternate reality much like the current world, except that every place, every brand name, almost every proper noun has morphed into something bizarre. The “Eyedropper” building provides a view of “ReadyToWear” river; all the characters have outlandish names like BlisterPac, DelicateSear, and Graveyard. One day a giant bag of money falls out of the sky, and Graveyard picks it up and takes it home. Now he and his wife, Ambience, are fantastically wealthy, and they proceed to spend their fat stacks on bottles of “LaughFrogg,” a “HomoDebonaire” car, a “LampLighter 505” gun, and anything else they could possibly desire. But of course the money really belongs to someone else—a horny corporate titan named MisterMenu, who sends his goon BlisterPac to track down the bag’s whereabouts. Graveyard and Ambience retreat to the farm country of Randomburg, but BlisterPac is hot on the trail. Various subplots and asides about Graveyard’s disaffected siblings SideEffects and Farrago add some depth to the hollow main characters. But this hypersexualized, hypercommercialized surreal world never feels consequential or any less absurd than the characters’ names or circumstances. Wright’s goofy postmodern tale of money, sex, and guns is imaginative but trivial. (Jan.)