The Postmortal

Imagine what life would be like if scientists discovered a cure for aging. You've probably already done so, at one point or another, because frankly, who hasn't? We all know that death is an inevitable certainty, and what comes afterward is anything but certain. It's nice, sometimes, to fantasize about what it would be like to never die. But we also know, deep down, that it would probably end up being a fate worse than death all the same. This book - written by sports blogger Drew Magary - takes that thread and pulls on it for 360 pages, telling the story of a man named John who, like most people in the 21st century, will be forever young. I bought this book merely minutes after first hearing about it; the Amazon.com "Look inside!" feature allowed me to check out the first few pages, and I was hooked immediately. What really grabbed me was the direct "jump right in" style that the narrative had. Magary wastes no time droning over the specific science and legality behind the cure for aging, instead exposing such details in the background as John reacts to news reports and government statements. The repercussions in a world where nobody ages range from the monumental to the humorously trivial. One girl laments early on in the book that she'll always get her period now, and the all time home run record is shattered repeatedly since players can now remain in their prime indefinitely. Meanwhile, the world's population balloons to 20 billion and nearly every national government becomes a totalitarian regime. The story jumps forward ten or twenty years at a time and takes place in four distinct years, never really stalling until the fourth and final part. Unfortunately, by the end of the story it seems like Magary was focused primarily on using old dystopian tropes like famine, rampant crime, and nuclear holocaust. Because the first two thirds of the book were more "big picture" driven, telling the story not just of John but of the society around him, the final character-specific act kind of lags its way to a predictable and unoriginal finish. It was at this late stage in the story when The Postmortal stopped feeling like an amazing modern novel to me and ended up merely being "pretty good and worth a read." I really wanted to come away from The Postmortal with great comfort in the idea that I will die someday, but just when Magary had the chance to hammer home that sentiment, he abandoned it to let John go out in an action-movie-style blaze of glory, abandoning philosophical meaning in favor of simple dramatic flair. Maybe I just had unfair expectations for the ending; this is, after all, the guy's first novel. I'm sure I'll check out Magary's stuff again if he ever goes back for a second attempt. And in the meantime, I'll always have his weekly NFL preview column on Deadspin.