I’ve spent three weeks trying to figure out how to describe Tony Tulathimutte’s Rejection, a book that pushed me way beyond my comfort zone and made me feel like a Jehovah’s Witness. It is a group of loosely linked, darkly funny short stories that excel at shocking the reader and providing plenty to think about – including how to write about it.
I suggested writing this review (and recommended the book multiple times, including to an older lady I met on a train) before getting to AHEGAO, or the ballad of sexual repression. It’s about an older gay male virgin whose fantasies would even make attendees at live sex shows in Thailand blush. I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience watching my own facial expressions while reading it.
Often in satires of the politically conscious, the humour claims that women just can’t take a joke or take part in banter. It almost always feels like the recipient is the punching bag.
But satire about “woke” communities from within seems funnier, darker and has to be a lot more intelligent to land. Tulathimutte is brilliant at biting social commentary very much aimed at the type of men who wear feminist T-shirts while actively hating women.
The book kicks off with The Feminist, about a guy who went to an all-girls’ school as his mother was an administrator. He’s the type of guy who goes to Take Back the Night marches to pick up women and then has no idea how to speak to a real-life woman who isn’t just a compilation of tropes.
My favourite, Our Dope Future, chronicles a serial entrepreneur who feels he is gracing us with his genius, and traps his girlfriend in a pod while watching her every move:
“She barely said anything all night, and let me take the lead, which suited me fine – when I was a kid my folks put me in charge of a “solo debate club” where I’d argue two opposing positions against myself for hours on end, so I can easily chat all by myself if necessary, and it gave me the chance to flex and stunt right away… Straight up. I’ve probably memorised more slang than anyone, so I can get down with people of all ages, races, nationalities, classes or cultures and it’s all completely gucci.”
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In Pics, Alison is in a wild group chat where there is clearly a side chat about how awful she is.
It captures the frenetic energy of a wronged woman when she is absolutely confident that she is in the right and that everyone will agree with her. Tulathimutte nails the use of emojis, sarcasm and slang.
For two weeks, I recommended Rejection to everyone – the woman on the train, randoms in the pub, basically anyone who would listen. And then I hit AHEGAO. I’ve never felt more prudish in all my life.
What starts as a story about a gay man coming out to his family and friends ends up being a description of the notes he sends to a cam guy for a bespoke production. The character Kane writes: “I’m VERY interested in commissioning a custom video… I’ll provide a ‘content warning’ up front as I think this will be more graphic than most requests.”
What follows are 20 pages of the most explicit, fantastical, ridiculous graphic description of an 18- to 20-minute porn film that’s not quite snuff, not quite anime. They include a recipe for the gallons of the fake bodily fluids that Kant has requested, which requires egg whites, sour cream, cornstarch, water and salt to taste.
I read it and thought about how I’d told the older lady on the train that Rejection was hilarious. She even wrote down the title so she wouldn’t forget.
If you are made of much stronger stuff than I am, you will give Rejection to relatives for Christmas. If you are a sadist, you will give it to someone as a means to reject them.
Let me know how either of those scenarios play out; I’ll be in church saying 10,000 Hail Marys in penance for recommending a book before I finished it.
Rejection by Tony Tulathimutte is published in paperback by HarperCollins
