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Time - Man of the Year
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1993-04-08
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REVIEWS, Page 78BOOKSThe Stories Left Untold
By SOPHFRONIA SCOTT GREGORY
TITLE: SHAMPOO PLANET
AUTHOR: Douglas Coupland
PUBLISHER: Pocket books; 299 pages; $20
THE BOTTOM LINE: Fascinating characters abound, but
unfortunately they have little to do.
When Tyler Johnson's mother wakes up one morning to find
the word divorce printed on her forehead in black felt pen, the
reader can't help tingling with anticipation that more fun
awaits. And for a while Douglas Coupland delivers, drawing
delectable characters such as narrator Tyler with his
Smithsonian-class collection of shampoos; his sister Daisy, a
neohippie in blond dreadlocks; and his mother Jasmine, a
twice-divorced hippie with the felt-penned forehead.
The book thrives with the energetically bizarre, and
rightly so, since it purports to be the document of "the global
teens," the MTV generation born after the twentysomethings who
were featured in Coupland's first novel, Generation X,
published in 1991. But Generation X was so peppered with
trademarks, jargon and faux chic that the cardboard characters
collapsed. Although fictional trademarks also abound in Shampoo
Planet (everything from ElviSheet computer software to the
KittyWhip Kat Food System), Coupland does a better job of
fleshing out these characters because he views them through the
prism of conflict: hippie parents of the '60s raising their
global teens of the '90s.
Tyler and Daisy often feel they are parenting Jasmine,
tugging her into line with a few "Earth to Moms," while Tyler
and his at-loose-ends friends resent their grandparents because
they've swallowed up the wealth of several future generations
and spent it on a Winnebago. The teens' opportunities are grim
because their little Northwestern town is dying from the loss
of the nuclear industry, and they grow depressed because they
could all die from the toxic waste left behind. The only light
of hope for Tyler reflects from the glass skyscrapers of the
huge Bechtol corporation in Seattle, where he wants to work.
This setup is all well and fine, except Coupland doesn't
go anywhere with it. The characters never really do anything.
They spend a quarter of the book hanging out or going up to
British Columbia to discover that a forest has disappeared, or
gawking at the resident AIDS patient at the mall. When Tyler
finally gets the story moving by describing his find-himself
trip to Europe, it is only to add another persona to the cast:
the Parisian Stephanie. The other youngsters hate her because
she acts coolly above the fray of life, which is something they
try very hard at but fail to do. Stephanie strolls the plot
along by moving Tyler to Hollywood, but once she disappears, the
story stalls again.
This doesn't have to happen, with so many possibilities
available to Coupland. He doesn't flesh out the relationship of
Harmony and Skye, Tyler's friends, whose not-uncommon fear of
dating strangers drives them to each other's arms because
they've known each other since preschool days. Nor does Coupland
tell the story of Daisy and her boyfriend Murray (also
dreadlocked) searching in vain for politically correct
employment. Coupland wants very much to be the voice of this
generation, but he must understand that its stories are
intriguing enough to stand on their own. He does not have to
dance around hair gels and alternative music to tell them.