Nova Express (1964)

This short novel by William S. Burroughs is approximately where things start to get weird, at least in terms of any supposed trilogy. It's confusing enough The Soft Machine was more like a sequel to Naked Lunch (whatever that means exactly). Now there's no agreement about what's next in the Nova trilogy (alternately called the Cut-Up trilogy). Most sources designate this the second, but Burroughs himself said the order didn't matter—didn't exist. Well, Nova Express was published second anyway and that's good enough for me, but note that some claim The Ticket That Exploded is second. As part of the "Nova" trilogy it makes more sense to me for Nova Express with its title to be either first or third. I guess that's another reason to make it second. To make matters more complicated, revisions to all three novels (and more) have occurred since my 1980s Grove Press mass market paperback. Do I dare hope for some—any—clarity in those "restored text" versions? I just wanted to read an old paperback before getting rid of it. The method of cut-up reportedly used for Nova Express is described as "fold-in." That makes me think it's a put-on based on the old Mad magazine feature by Al Jaffee, which started the same year Nova Express was published. It's also possible that Burroughs or some assistant literally folded pages in from his massive Word Hoard manuscript. Why not? Overall, I don't think it works as well as the cut-up in Naked Lunch and The Soft Machine, which does not work that well except randomly in shards. But who's to say? Also, thinking of a later book, Exterminator!, there is a thin line in Burroughs between novel and short story collection. Nova Express improved for me when I started thinking of it as a collection of stories, though only the last of them, "PAY COLOR," stood out particularly. There is more science fiction concept here—something about viruses. As a result, Nova Express got a nomination for a Nebula award, which is kind of amazing all things considered. It's possible I could have got more out of this, but my engagement with Burroughs tends to happen in the immediacy at the granular level of the sentences and their nouns and verbs. Trying to get your arms around anything bigger, even paragraphs let alone true narrative threads (as opposed to rhythmic devices), feels a little like a fool's errand. I still see this title getting coughed up on lists of best SF, but beyond maybe 20 pages of good sentences scattered toward the front and back, you could fool me.

In case the library is closed due to pandemic, which is over.