Casual Cogitations

"I learned so much about some stuff that I ended up not knowing anything at all about it”.

This quote (from the end of King Dork) serves as a metaphor for the book itself; an amusing albeit convoluted tale of teen America. The novel, although widely hailed as a success, often gets bogged down in the protagonist’s neurotic manner. It is largely, however, an accessible and enjoyable piece of writing; showing American teen life through the eyes of the underdog. Portman, in an impressive debut, creates a refreshing and cynical glimpse of the American High School system; a funny yet important novel that ultimately will make you laugh.

Tom Henderson is not having a good time. His high school is a dump, failing to teach him anything but scathing contempt for his peers and the mispronunciation of what is referred to as ‘extended vocabulary’; bullies great and small take pleasure in persecuting him; his mother is insane, his sister strange, his stepfather Little Big Tom (for reasons of differentiation) is a harmony-addict hippie. He can’t seem to manage to land himself a girlfriend, his only friend Sam Hellerman became his ally solely because they are related for alphabetical reasons and spend a lot of time standing in line next to each other. Above all, nobody quite gets young Tom’s view of the world. I repeat, Tom Henderson is not having a good time, at all.

It seems curious that a guy who’s been playing in pop-punk bands for almost 30 years has suddenly become a well-regarded author of “young adult” literature. But it’s not so surprising when you consider that Portman’s songs generally deal in themes befitting the high school set: girls, break-ups, ironic sarcasm, girls, rock bands, girls, dates, nerd humor, and of course girls. All perfectly suited to the heightened emotional spazzfest of adolescence. But where most mid-40s pop-punkers singing about teenage experiences come off as brain-dead, Portman writes and sings about them with wit, insight, and the kind of vocabulary you’d expect from a UC Berkeley graduate. He’s no dummy, he just happens to have spent most of his life writing power-chord rock songs about not being able to get a girlfriend.

And that’s exactly where King Dork comes in. The book takes Portman’s skills at examining the angst and trials of “young adulthood” through irony and wit, but expands the tableau from 3-minute songs to a 350-page novel. And it works incredibly well. I found myself reading it quickly but being thoroughly entertained; I was intrigued by the main character’s inner dialogue and also laughed out loud at a lot of the humor. Though the book is intended for “young adults” it’s an entertaining read at any age, and since we’re all clutching our Harry Potter volumes right now anyway we’re obviously in the mood for well-written fiction that might seem a bit beneath our true ages (though I admit I haven’t read any HP books).

Actually, an important aspect of the book is the way Tom (and obviously Portman) feels about The Catcher in the Rye, that book we were all forced to read a dozen times because it changed our teachers’ lives. I think this is best summed up in a quote:

It’s kind of like a cult. They live for making you read it. When you do read it you can feel them all standing behind you in a semicircle wearing black robes with hoods, holding candles. They’re chanting “Holden, Holden, Holden…” And they’re looking over your shoulder with these expectant smiles, wishing they were the ones discovering the earth-shattering joys of The Catcher in the Rye for the very first time.

Tom refers to this secret society as the Catcher Cult, and the though King Dork obviously has roots in Catcher’s portrayal of teen angst, it harbors a distinct grudge against the book. I mean, just look at the cover: a deliberate defacement of the old maroon paperback from the bargain bin. But Catcher isn’t the only standard from the sophomore summer reading list that gets the Portman analysis, and some of them are actually looked on quite favorably.

My favorite aspects of King Dork come from Portman’s method of describing the day-to-day dynamics of high school. Now, this is stuff we’ve not only experienced but seen satirized in hundreds of teen comedies over the years. But King Dork puts a fresh spin on it via Portman’s distinct brand of sarcasm. Remember, he’s been writing humorously ironic songs about adolescent frustrations for going on 30 years. I laughed out loud at his description of the “Make out-Fake out” deception used by teen girls to mess with the guys’ heads, and when Tom learns new vocabulary words such as callipygous and ramone (from the French ramoner, to scrub out a chimney…combine with Tom’s rock & roll background and you have a perfect new neologism for intercourse). The book’s action culminates in a performance by Tom and Sam’s band at the battle of the bands, which of course has been renamed the Festival of Lights by the school’s P.C.-police due to the negative connotations of the word battle and the fact that bands is unfairly exclusive to some students.

Needless to say, King Dork gets my major thumbs up. I don’t have the opportunity to read for pleasure very often, so I’m very glad this book came across my path when it did. Portman is currently working on a second novel, and he’s said that he might eventually write a King Dork sequel. Though it’s tacky to quote a review from the book’s dust jacket, I feel this one pretty much sums up how I felt after reading it: