Shelf Space - Assassination dialogue

So my mom, who grew up in a more obedient age, is always worrying that my writing is going to get me into serious trouble. Mind you, I’m an arts writer, not a deep-cover investigative reporter, but whenever she reads something I’ve written that tangentially suggests someone in a position of power might be something less than a socially upstanding philanthropist with good taste and a fine physique, she’s sure it’s going to end me in jail.

I don’t guess I’ll be sending her this story, because Nicholson Baker’s Counterpoint is ... well, let’s make the TIA data miners work a little harder than a Google algorithm: This is a novella about keEhl-eNg duh pruZ-ee-dunt. Did you parse that OK? I’ll translate to Pentagon-speak: It’s about a man named Jay’s plan to effect a domestic regime change through non-democratic means that involve radio-controlled flying saws, magic bullets that have been “marinating” in a biscuit tin with a picture of their target and a Brazilian Mojo Hammer of Justice.

OK, so yeah, obviously Jay has gone crazy, and his old friend Ben spends most of the book trying to re-educate him into the duties of gentle hearts with strong moral convictions. Ben, who shares Jay’s anger over the innocents killed in Iraq, argues that Jay’s plan would make the world worse and violate the basic sanctity of life, which Jay claims to be defending.

Nicholson has made a name for himself taking absurdly thin plots and writing them with such wit, insight and minute observation that they bloom into contemplations thick and heady. His first novel, The Mezzanine, followed the mind of a temp worker riding up an escalator. Vox, his most popular work, tells of a single phone sex encounter.

Checkpoint is no exception. The entire novella takes place in a hotel room and is written solely in dialogue, like a transcript. But Ben and Jay’s impassioned moral point-counterpoint deals deeply with the thoughts we’re not supposed to have. In daring to seriously engage Jay’s urge to kill, Baker ends up affirming the preciousness of life, of every life, even the lives of those who treat life with casual disdain.Checkpoint by Nicholson Baker. 115 pages. Alfred A. Knopf. $15.95.

Other worthwhile words this week

Peace Corps volunteer Sarah Erdman reads from her travel memoir, Nine Hills to Nambonkaha, an examination of the calamities in Africa brought on by AIDS, poverty and the persistent oppression of women, seen through the lens of one village. Fri., Aug. 20, 8 p.m. Carter Center library, 441 Freedom Parkway. 770-551-3019.