Asthmatica
by Jon Paul Fiorentino
Insomniac Press, 2005
Reviewed by Nathaniel G. Moore
The year is 2039. Giselle is on Hardcore
Final Jeopardy and it’s her turn.
"Ailments and Canadian literature
for a thousand Alex."
"He wrote poems about pills and
prose about wheezing."
"Who is John Ritter?…John Stamos?"
"No I’m sorry Giselle, the
correct answer is Who is Jon Paul Fiorentino?"
It is hard to think of any other artist
from Winnipeg with the exception of Chris Jericho, who is able to blend
deliberately funny zingers with stern and powerfully guided
craftsmanship, as well as watered-down Western philosophy. Yes, for
these artists, it’s all about the delivery. And with horny paperboy
verve, and kill-yourself self-depravation-since-birth, Fiorentino
delivers something quite funny.
The bard’s latest effort, Asthmatica
(whose oh-so-exquisite logo was done by Toronto’s Marc Ngui,
so hot right now, Marc Ngui) is again another immoral and unethical
exploitation of the writer’s own personal health problems, which seems
to be his raison d’etre. We write about what we know, or what
doctors tell us weakens us, which is just as good as any raison d’etre,
and a lot better than most.
Let us be thankful JPF is not getting
attention for books called "Hello Canoe Paddle!" or "Craftamatica".
Where to begin. The titles alone
justify bookstore patrons to flip through and ignite with laughter, and
they do. Examples: "Sissy Fists" , "Hail, Satan" or
the classic "I’m Having A Seizure, What A Lovely Way To Say I’m
Epileptic."
All right. Well, the first person thing
really works. Fiorentino has a witty and clever vice fettering the
reader to the work, driving fast with the punchy dialogue making us pine
for fresh air as we’re forced into the backseat to hear his Great Aunt
yell "Keep your eyes on the
road, you stupid fuck."
But wait, there’s more.
Fiorentino controls his abject
biography with an acute dedication to humiliation, and a humbling
sincerity that is all too human. We want to see him fall, because, it’s
natural, isn’t it?
From "Let Me Be Your Alpha
Male":
"I ripped my mask off and
charged toward the kids like a raging, asthmatic bull. I inspired no
fear."
With Asthmatica, Fiorentino is trying
to "kill" the legend of himself, or a reasonable wheezing
facsimile, and succeeds with bone-picking ease, because the subject is,
like ones kidneys, available for slaughter, the self—there to paw at,
there to ponder—is a hilarious bank of mockery from which the author
has not overdrawn.
From "Asthmatica":
"Asthmatica is a powder, a spray,
a tonic, a choice. Asthmatica is a state that can only be achieved
through daily meditation, rigorous self-reflexivity, and eight metered
doses of salbutamol daily."
The testimonial nature of his prose,
which is lucid and engaging, help to sell the jokes, the heartbreak, and
the adolescent rash. Whether or not Fiorentino wants to be the
ambassador of the wheezing elite or is just doing what he does best is
of course, up to him, the reader, or his doctors to decide. Perhaps
sponsorship is next for JPF?
Whether mowing the lawn, coping a
field, trying to outwit neighbourhood bullies, or being leered at by
pedophilic swingers whilst peeing at a sports complex, Fiorentino has
spared no expense in this, one of the world’s greatest collections of
Asthma-inspired prairie humour.
Despite a very obvious comedy, dark
comedy (if a genre buzz word is required) the stories here are
visceral, non-boring, inventive, jaded, depraved, romantic, but also
straight-forward. The familiar use of self-deprecation is there, but new
brands in the Fiorentino embassy are emerging like comedic short-fused
dialogue and a fresh landscape of reference points (popular culture,
body image complex, familial stress, romantic nightmares, employment
probation) with a more expansive narrative that considers a larger cast
of characters.
It’s smart though, Fiorentino knows
big words. No lunch pale ass-scratchers are going to appreciate this,
but then again, few lunch pale ass-scratchers are sitting around reading
TDR anyway, so really, we can move on.
In this book, perhaps unlike any other,
he is artist before writer. The thinking man’s asthmatic, the Picasso,
nay Andy Kaufman of asthma.
Finally, with much hope, Fiorentino is
providing the blueprints for something. Perhaps though, with the right
amount of stabilizers or complex carbohydrates, lunch pale ass-scratchers
would be rolling over in their pig slop over these stories and learning
a thing or two about acceptance.
We’ll let you know.
Nathaniel G.
Moore is TDR’s features editor and a performance artist trapped in the
body of a narcissistic Canadian writer. This fall…Bowlbrawl
(Conundrum Press) Download the Official Bowlbrawl Quicktime
Teaser Trailer: http://www.utopics.ca/bowlbrawl.html |