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In Kevin Wilson’s debut novel, we are introduced to a
peculiar family of performance artists, the Fangs. Caleb and Camille Fang, artistic directors and
(to a lesser extent) parents, create pieces - or maybe happenings? - aimed at stirring
frenzied responses from unwitting bystanders in public places. Think Punk’d
as funded by a MacArthur Genius Grant. Their
accomplices are Child A and Child B (Annie and Buster), the Fang children, who have
grown up only knowing this bizarre and insular environment and struggle with their familial obligation
to wreak havoc in the name of art.
When you pick up The Family Fang, the first thing you might notice is that the cover image seems
allusive to a Wes Anderson movie, and while I’m no marketing guru, my guess is
that the nod was intentional (also the blurb on the back likening it to a Wes
Anderson movie was a tip-off). The book
is rife with Andersonian touches: quirky
melancholics, off-kilter academics, vain depressives, and unmanageable artists
begetting world weary children – the whole shebang, really. I don’t want my mentioning the similarities
to come off as a slight, because it’s a fantastic book, but it should just be
noted that the Fangs’ family tree shares a common root system with the
Tenenbaums.
Each chapter alternates between the past and present (a
favored device of authors these days), jumping between scenes of the early
Fangs, an inseparable band of ne’er-do-wells, and then twenty years later when
Child A and B have grown up and moved out, having purposefully distanced
themselves from their parents and the Fang Family brand of art. Annie went on to become an Oscar-nominated
actress and Buster a noted novelist.
Unfortunately, neither Fang child stayed ascendant for long, both buckling
under personal drama (such as Buster being shot in the face), and they each return
home for a chance to recuperate. Soon after the homecoming, though, A and B
find themselves again enmeshed in Caleb and Camille’s art-at-all-costs hijinks.
The Family Fang is a funny read - not in the fits of
laughter sense, but more along the lines of dryly conceding aloud “that’s funny.” Still, humorous fiction can be hard to come
by, and Mr. Wilson’s efforts are much appreciated.
Ransom - Reference
