Carnival
Ron Sanders
Reviewed by Sabrina Williams
As Ron Sanders’ complicated novel opens in 1967, three
adolescent friends are heading out on a journey of self-discovery,
traveling by
bike to the ultimate hippie commune in San Francisco:
Haight-Ashbury.
It’s the “Summer of Love” and Kevin, Mike, and Eddie are teenagers
determined
to join the Revolution and experience the ultimate freedom one can only
know
through total acceptance and the philosophical epiphanies found through
lots of
mind-altering drugs.
I can’t say Carnival
is an easy read. It will take a lot of commitment. For the first
hundred or so
pages, it seems like the boys are on a never ending cycle of ride, eat,
smoke
pot, sleep, repeat. Perhaps this is the opportunity for the reader to
familiarize themselves and connect with the main characters, but it
becomes
pretty monotonous. It requires some dedication to stick it through. The
novel
has the directionless meandering qualities of Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, sans
humor.
The protagonist, Kevin, is continuously tormented from the
beginning. He wants nothing more than to be accepted, but everyone from
his
abusive father to his travel companion, Mike, and the characters they
meet
along the way insist on deriding the boy for his every ineptitude. His
only
supporter is his best friend, Eddie. Kevin is overweight, with glasses
and a
frizzy mop of curls. His key redeeming quality seems to be his ability
to score
weed at every turn, for which his companions are eternally grateful
until the
supply dwindles.
Despite Kevin’s misfit status, it is difficult to feel sorry
for him as one would normally react to such a bullied character. He is
not a
likeable person, and his frightening seizure-like psychotic episodes
only serve
to make him more unreachable. Even his first experiences of love do
little to
evoke sympathy in the reader.
I’m not sure if Sanders intended for Kevin to be a relatable
character. In fact, I’m not sure what Sanders intentions for the entire
novel
are meant to be. Perhaps he wants the reader to draw their own
conclusions, or
perhaps he was aiming to promote the nihilism apparent in Thompson’s
work. Just
when you think you have a grasp on the message, Sanders jerks the
storyline in
a different direction. The ending doesn’t relate to any of the
philosophies
explored throughout the story, and it’s not clear if it is meant to be
taken
literally or metaphorically. Maybe that’s ultimately the reader’s
decision.
Carnival explores
some of the prominent tenets of the sixties, which I find fascinating.
However,
after much contemplation, I’m still not sure how I feel about the
novel. I
think one of the main deterrents for me is that Sanders shows the
destructive
side of every lifestyle encountered, and I much more prefer the
“all-encompassing
innocence” outlook of the hippie movement. Attack society and
consumerism all
you please, but leave my peace loving hippies alone. And maybe that’s
exactly
the perspective that will make Carnival an appealing read to another
person:
the unabashed honesty. Either way, it’s not a novel that will be easily
digested in one sitting.