Cheese Monkeys, by Chip Kidd

You know, as I’ve gotten older, it’s become more rare that I am thrilled by a book – not just my thinking has changed, but also my general emotion. Granted, most of the time, even with the most amazing book, these effects are temporary.

Still, it’s a really lovely feeling to feel buoyed by what I’m reading. That’s the first reason why Cheese Monkeys is my new favorite book. (I feel like I’m a kid on Reading Rainbow.)

The second reason is because the story, told by a kid who’s going off to the state university to study art, absolutely kept me guessing about the plot. The book is original in it’s dialogue (one of the side effects being that for a while I’m going to think that everything I say is cliched) but both the dialogue and the plot are wholly believable. I doubt many people choose to think and act like our main character, but I’ve seen it before.

Which brings me to reason number 3 why this book knocked my panties off: the professor – the main faculty character in the book – is Les Bell. I don’t know when he had time to jump into this book, but maybe over his last sabbatical or possibly this summer. I don’t know. I do know that I’m afraid to ask him, just to have him have disappeared. Les, if you’re reading this, you’re creeping me out, man. I mean, besides the physique described and the tantrums, you’re Winter Sorbeck. And I’m some bastard combination of Girleen and Happy.

I might as well also mention that, while maintaining originality, there are some aspects (other than Hells Bells) of this book that are so tightly aligned to my college experience, it squeezes my breath away. Firstly, the main focus of the second half of the book is on a particular art class: Graphic Design. After scrutinizing enough typography, you just start thinking about the world differently. I was overjoyed to get to revel in this type of thought (no pun intended or achieved). Also, I love speaking in the pun-riddled (ha!) style of the main characters. It can be exhausting, if you’re hung over, but it’s a very specific type of brain activity. It’s like doing weight training on your little finger.

I finished the book at midnight last night, and absolutely couldn’t fall asleep. Granted, there were a bunch of things (kind of like a fireworks finale) that left me kind of dazed and blinky. I didn’t want the book to be done. Whatever I read next is going to disappoint me.

Thanks to Jason for the midnight phone call. Talking about Infinite Jest really did put me into a soporific state.