Hey Nostradamus!, by Douglas Coupland

It is only fitting that I write this review as the sort of person who could easily be a character in the novels of Douglas Coupland, who coined the term “Generation X” to describe people like me, authentic and cynical and brutally honest people living in a broken down world full of corruption and dysfunctional families. For whatever reason, Coupland mines this territory and in Hey Nostradamus he has a novel that seeks to unravel the trauma of school shootings and their lingering aftermath on people.

The novel is organized in a multiple POV way, with four narrators each struggling to find and deal with the brutal truths of human existence. There is Cheryl Anway, a 17-year old victim of a horrific school shooting who becomes a saint in the eyes of the world when her doodling about “God is nowhere / God is now here” becomes an inspiration to many, albeit not to those close to her, who do not understand her. She is naïve but at the same time a surprisingly practical young woman, secretly married to her high school sweetheart, Jason, and secretly pregnant with his child. Her death in the arms of Jason basically cripples him emotionally for life, hounded by suspicions that he was guilty of being part of the shootings, and part of difficult and complicated matters later on that lead him to try to disappear and find a better life, while writing his sons (who are thought to be his nephews) about the truth of how he secretly married their mother and got her pregnant, a woman who became a murderer to protect her secrets and lies. Then there is Heather, a lonely but good-hearted woman who falls in love with Jason and tries to help him cope with his heavy burdens. Finally, there is Reg, the self-righteous and smug father of Jason, who has to come to terms with the way in which he continued a generational cycle of brutality and anger to his son despite his own best intentions, thinking that Jason does not know what it is like to be a father who has lost his children, which is tragically untrue.

This is a novel that is extremely painful for someone like myself to read, but it is also the sort of work I tend to write, because I inhabit the moral ground of this novel that is reaching for hope and faith in a world that is horribly broken in the most awful of ways. This novel is about damaged souls trying to come to terms with God and with the suffering that God allows us to go through for His purposes to be fulfilled, which are far beyond our comprehension. Coupland pulls no punches, and while not being preachy at all he manages to delve into the secrets and lies that undergird all of our apparent virtue, while also showing that our sincere grappling with our brokenness is the road to genuine belief.

Over and over again this novel shows people self-medicating to get rid of the pain. Whether it is drugs, sleeping pills, meth, or some other substance, many of the characters of this novel use substances to dull the pain and allow them to have some semblance of peace. This is a screwed up world, and Coupland deals with it honestly, but with a melancholy and touching sense of grace. As we have to grapple with the repercussions of our sins and of the sins of others that mar our life, this book is a helpful example of how wrestling with the truth is the only road to wholeness. To be an honest failure is the way we begin to be a success in the eyes of God. Being the sort of person who inhabits the moral universe of this novel in my own life, it is my hope that not only I but all of those who inhabit this world with me may find some comfort and peace in the knowledge that our brokenness is not pointless or meaningless. For anything can be endured so long as we know that it is for some greater purpose outside of ourselves, even if we must suffer in the meantime.