The Last Projector, by David James Keaton
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The Last Projector, by David James Keaton
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In this hysterical fever dream of a novel, meet an unhinged paramedic turned porn director uprooted from an ever-shifting '80s fantasy. Discover a crime that circles back through time to a far-reaching cover-up in the back of an ambulance. Reveal a manic tattoo obsession and how it conspires to ruin the integrity of a film and corrupt identity itself. Unravel the mystery surrounding three generations of women and the one secret they share. And follow two amateur terrorists, whose unlikely love story rushes headlong toward a drive-in apocalypse. "I want to know where David James Keaton buys his pants. There must be some kind of specialty store to buy trousers with enough roominess for him to stuff his immense balls into. The Last Projector (at a whopping 500-plus pages) maintains the sure hand and immense voice of someone well into a long and legendary career. And this is his @#$%&!ing debut. Ridiculously entertaining and well-paced, crossing genres at points with subtle flair that you won't even notice at first, this is the opener for a huge new voice." -Todd Robinson, author of The Hard Bounce and editor-in-chief of Thuglit"The Most Anticipated Book of 2014. Hell, it's the most anticipated book since this podcast has existed." -Booked. "Imagine Harry Crews' grit-filled world head-butting William Gaddis' dense, rollicking literary hopscotch and you're firmly entrenched in David James Keaton country. His thrilling debut,The Last Projector, is the bubbling, epic story of how wonderfully screwed up America is." -Patrick Wensink, author of Broken Piano for President "David James Keaton is a monomaniacal genius, splicing words together in the tail-most room of your movie-saturated snakebrain, and The Last Projector is his masterpiece. It is insane, anarchic, and f*cking brilliant. I can't wait to read it again." -Benjamin Whitmer, author of Cry Father and co-author of Satan Is Real: The Ballad of the Louvin Brothers, a New York Times Critics' Choice "That thing called 'voice' authors are said to have? Keaton's are legion. That 'Tap, tap, tap' you may hear issuing from this book? I wouldn't open it up without a quick 'Klaatu barada nikto' for good measure." -Jedidiah Ayres, author of Peckerwood and Godfather of the Noir at the Bar reading series "Quite simply, David James Keaton is a twisted genius, and you read his work at your own risk, risk of a neural or moral melt-down... Keaton's stories are like secret maps to murder swamps where the bodies are buried by the serial killers who comprise Keaton's fan clubs... Say you are a mad scientist and you want to make a monster writer of the future, well, first you dig up the corpse of Kafka, get some DNA, then you do the same with David Foster Wallace, then toss some Stephen King and Woody Allen into the mixture. Add a pinch of Poe and Robert Parker, shake the test tube with vigor and presto you have David James Keaton. His writings are as sickly exuberant and gargantuan as gothic dirigibles, tall tales of teleportation into urban myth and mystery, post-truth, anti-reality, they break every rule of regular fiction and good taste." -Chuck Kinder, author of Honeymooners: A Cautionary Tale and Last Mountain Dancer
The Last Projector, by David James Keaton- Amazon Sales Rank: #2162591 in Books
- Published on: 2015-03-20
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: 7.01" h x 1.11" w x 4.37" l, .90 pounds
- Binding: Paperback
- 548 pages
Review "Keaton works in a fast and loose style, so readers seeking a straightforward narrative devoid of surprises should steer clear. However, those who are excited by cult-movie references, tattoos of all sorts, and a world in which authority figures and those looking to subvert them run amok will find this an inviting read... A loopy, appealing mix of popular culture and thoroughly crazy people." -Kirkus Reviews
About the Author David James Keaton's award-winning fiction has appeared in over 50 publications. His first collection, Fish Bites Cop: Stories to Bash Authorities, was named the 2014 This Is Horror Short Story Collection of the Year and was a finalist for the Killer Nashville Silver Falchion Award. He grew up within sight of a drive-in, and in his spare time creates soundtracks for sequels that do not exist. This is his first novel.
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4 of 4 people found the following review helpful. “You’ll either love it or hate it By Tony McMillen “You’ll either love it or hate it. Although, in my experience, if something is ever described as ‘love it or hate it,’ it is, without fail, ****ing terrible.”—The Last ProjectorI don’t usually like being confused this much.Are you familiar with choogling? No? Good. Shut up, seriously, I don’t care anymore. The Last Projector is a time-choogling rabbit punch to your skull candy that never forgets to keep the conversation interesting. It’s also David James Keaton debut novel following closely on the heels of his collection Fish Bites Cop! Stories to Bash Authorities.It feels like a long hibernating story that’s only gotten weirder and more p*ssed off, whatever it is, the longer its been kept from civilization. I’m paraphrasing John Carpenter’s masterpiece The Thing here for good reason; not only is The Last Projector partly a meditation on cult movies of the ‘70s and ‘80s it also contains a rap song written about John Carpenter’s The Thing. The song is called The Rap Is The Thing ( Or Your Blood’s Gonna Scream) and yes, it is excellent, and yes, you can hear it on youtube.But that original rap song is only like the 5th coolest thing about this novel. Some books define categorization, and then some books like The Last Projector actually wriggle free from your grasp like greased up marmosets furiously doing the Sprocket’s dance. Ostensibly the book is about a paramedic named Jack who now goes by Larry and who directs porn while also guerilla filmmaking a straight movie on his off hours about his former life as a paramedic. Larry the porn director is losing what’s left of his mind along with his artistic integrity and both of these seem to revolve around his obsession with tattoos and how they’re destroying the authenticity and continuity of his porn movies. Sounds reasonable, right? There’s also another story about two teenagers who might as well be auditioning for Christian Slater and Wynona Rider’s roles in Heathers that are grimly fixated on a local cop and his K9 partner. Still with me? Then there’s a whole thing about a woman named Jacki who survived a very strange car crash years ago who might be tied up with Jack/Larry the paramedic turned porno director. And everyone seems to have a doppelganger or a doggerganger (dogs are important to this story) for some reason. Confused? You’re welcome.The disparate elements and characters begin to coalesce after a while but just as soon as you start to think you know where this book is headed the plot points and the story beats metastasize, turn corrupt and grow gnarled on you. That’s a compliment. Because Keaton’s voice, his direction is solid. Even if we’re lost it feels like it’s because he wants us to be. And most importantly, yeah, we’re lost, but the author isn’t. Time and identity is played very slippery here, you’re never quite sure what decade things are taking place in or who anyone really is. Or if they’re only one person. Aiding and abetting this swirling dream state feel here are mentions of the movie Saw Part VXIII and when one character sees a poster for Cronenberg’s The Fly and remarks having no memory of ever hearing about the film existing.“Music, movies, and books followed you forward and back. Time was broken when it came to media objects. Occasionally, time could break when it came to music. But time would always be broken when it came to movies.”Underneath all this ornate dressing and psychedelic framing is a story about identity, regret and the peril and untrustworthiness of memory. How nothing is the way you remember it and if all we really are is merely a summation of that unreliable memory how can we really be sure who we are in the first place? All this existential digging and the book’s other ruminations on gritty and brutal topics like rape, murder and insanity might be excessive and depressing if not for Keaton’s knack for Altmanesque dialogue and angular, swift prose. His screwball characters easily drop into exchanges that seem like back alley sonnets or dive bar philosophical debates with aplomb and flourish. The dialogue reaches that perfect teeter-totter between stylized and natural. No one talks like this in real life per se but it’s not far off. More like the way you remember some of your best tangents and conversations than how they were actually spoken.Likewise the narration is never stymied by too much over production or is it too stark to be inviting. Like a good rhythm section it knows when to hang back and support and then, when the time is right, it knows when to make with the flashy fills.“Heart pounding in panic, he went back to something a little more high-end instead, safer, shriller. Squier.”Judging from the title of his first collection of stories author David James Keaton has a bit of a problem with authority figures and this trend is thankfully continued with The Last Projector where it reaches its unavoidable conclusion. And I’m not talking about Officer Bigbee, the dipsh*t, belligerent cop that the two teenager characters in Projector are considering using a bomb on, he’s a fascinating fascist but he’s not our endboss. No, with this novel Keaton sets his sights on the ultimate authority figure: himself, the author. The idea of an author, an all knowing, information controlling, giving and at times withholding fictional godhead, this is what Keaton seems to take umbrage with the most and poke fun at with his unorthodox, convention shirking stylings. With his tense changes and reality warping. He doesn’t so much break the fourth wall as much as he slaps a big fat *ss against it and asks how much it likes its fresh pressed ham.Learn to enjoy confusion, get familiar with choogling.
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful. "My god, it's full of stars..." By Rob Vollmar If you are going to write a 500+ page book for your debut novel, you better have more than a freaky central premise and a gift for describing escalating levels of violence waiting for the reader. You have to have a real story to tell. The Last Projector has it in spades. Even as the dizzying interwoven narratives kept me wondering if I really had any idea what was going on for the first 80% of the book, I never considered bailing. Hell, I NEEDED to know how he was going to pull it all together into a unified bundle and, man, when it did, it was so cruelly simple that I wondered how I didn’t see it coming all along. This book is built on its characters and its depravities all stem not from universal evil but from human fragility. With nary a stainless protagonist in sight, it felt like quite a feat to entice me to genuinely feel empathy for this parade of deranged victims but there I was.I feel like I’m going to have to read this all over again, knowing what I know now, to appreciate all the layers that Keaton builds into this epic. There are genuine themes issues at play that go way beyond merely telling a story and, more than once, I thought, “Man this is some seriously damaged literature but it is definitely serious and definitely literature.” Keaton batters ideas about the impermanence of memory, the paradoxical timelessness and fragility of media as well as the ephemeral nature of the individual’s conception of self mercilessly and then invites us to examine the pulped remains to draw our own conclusions. It’s heady but feels almost effortless in execution. I can’t wait to read it again.
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful. Even the Epilogues Contain Car Crashes By Salvatore P. Pane Let me sum this book up in six words: even the epilogues contain car crashes. David James Keaton's The Last Projector contains a villain who ejaculates into flytraps, a legion of doppelgangers making the world's worst art film, a rap song based on The Thing, and about a dozen fictional cars that I'd guess have their origins in the Grand Theft Auto series--a repeated reference within the novel. The Last Projector isn't really a traditional novel though. Like Dave Eggers' A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, it's more of a virtual reality simulation of what it's like to be David James Keaton or, at the very least, what it's like to be sucked into a conversation with David James Keaton. The book is a terribly offensive romp that tangles as it untangles its violent mysteries, but the plot is really a springboard for Keaton to launch into one conversational riff after another. His characters are obsessed with '80s films, Evel Knievel, thumb-wrestling, a Model T theme park ride, and songs about dogs--although there surprisingly isn't a DMX reference until nearly the book's end--and you find yourself unnerved when they become your obsessions too. Let me finish by reviewing the book on its own terms--movie references. David James Keaton's The Last Projector is the literary equivalent of the climax to Tin Cup.
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