Arthur Nersesian uses New York City not only for a mailing address,
but as a perennial setting for his stories. His previous
novels—from 1997’s terrific debut The Fuck-Up to 2004’s
Unlubricated—take place in a recognizable-yet-unfamiliar
New York. While the settings may be Nersesian’s own private Lower East
Side and Tribeca, there are still enough points of reference for a
reader (and a character) to avoid losing his way.
Not so in Nersesian’s latest novel, The Swing Voter of Staten
Island. The protagonist, Uli, may very well be in Queens heading
toward the East Village as the book opens, but reader and character go
easily astray—in a way that’s good for the reader, if not for
Uli. Queens here seems much more barren than usual; western Brooklyn
teems with Soviet architecture while the Manhattan skyline is mainly
“Germanic”; pit bulls abound. It’s apocalyptic, for sure, but it’s also
November 1981. So why does New York resemble Area 51?
The New York Uli currently inhabits is, in fact, New York, Nevada.
These desolate five boroughs comprise Rescue City, an interim refuge
center. Uli, however, is currently amnesiac. His expedition through
this wasteland is also the reader’s—and it’s an exciting one. The
thrill of The Swing Voter—and most of Nersesian’s
books—is in discovering what lies around each corner. Familiar
New York sights—Coney Island and Alphabet City, for
instance—permeate the action, as do extraordinary occurrences. A
dromedary lopes across Avenue A just before Uli receives his ration of
food (rice with shredded Spam and lentils). As Uli eats, “an ugly man
in a skimpy dress with pancake make-up sang ‘The Tracks of My Tears’ by
Smokey Robinson and the Miracles.”
Any of Nersesian’s novels will be unlike anything you’ve ever read
before, but The Swing Voter of Staten Island will be unlike
anything you’ve ever read by Arthur Nersesian. A bona fide innovator,
his books—particularly this one—merit close attention,
perhaps even multiple reads. Indeed, you can read Swing Voter once to admire the author’s agility and then again to decode the book’s
meaty substance. After familiarizing yourself on the first read with
Nersesian’s mirage-like New York of the Nevada desert, one may finally
be ready to reenter the city’s barren streets, rifling through its
haunted mysteries.