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Overview
Paul Symon is an environmentalist who's out to make the world a better place, but he's overwhelmed by too much disjointed information, too much public apathy, too much self-serving talk and not enough action. Not to mention the opposition of greedy despoiler Jerry Landis, a sucessful venture capitalist who is dying of a rare disease that accelerates the aging process. Landis cares about only two things: making even more money, and finding a way to arrest his medical condition. He'll go to any lengths to do either.
That brings Landis and his fortune to the wild frontier of biotechnology, where his people are illegally experimenting with cross-species organ transplantation in California while breeding genetically altered primates at a secret site in the piney woods of south central Mississippi. Not only is Paul on the trail of this clandestine research, but there's also an eco-terrorist on the loose, bent on teaching hard lessons to people who are under the impresion that the Earth and its creatures are theirs to destroy. These forces, together with 50,000 extra-large chacma baboons, collide in an explosion of laughter and wonder that Bill Fitzhugh's growing league of admirers is coming to recognize as his very own.
Synopsis
Paul Symon is an environmentalist who's out to make the world a better place, but he's overwhelmed by too much disjointed information, too much public apathy, too much self-serving talk and not enough action. Not to mention the opposition of greedy despoiler Jerry Landis, a sucessful venture capitalist who is dying of a rare disease that accelerates the aging process. Landis cares about only two things: making even more money, and finding a way to arrest his medical condition. He'll go to any lengths to do either.
That brings Landis and his fortune to the wild frontier of biotechnology, where his people are illegally experimenting with cross-species organ transplantation in California while breeding genetically altered primates at a secret site in the piney woods of south central Mississippi. Not only is Paul on the trail of this clandestine research, but there's also an eco-terrorist on the loose, bent on teaching hard lessons to people who are under the impresion that the Earth and its creatures are theirs to destroy. These forces, together with 50,000 extra-large chacma baboons, collide in an explosion of laughter and wonder that Bill Fitzhugh's growing league of admirers is coming to recognize as his very own.
The Washington Post
"The Organ Grinders," Bill Fitzhugh's follow-up to the very fine, very funny "Pest Control," provides compelling evidence to counter the theory of the sophomore slump. Fitzhugh is in fine comic form and zanier than ever. For those who missed his story of Bob Dillon, the hapless exterminator-hero whose advertisement for his eco-friendly extermination services landed himon the Top 10 list of the world's greatest assassins (of people, not bugs), "The Organ Grinders" is a great chance to catch a glimpse of a truly uniqueand talented young writer.
Like Dillon before him, Paul Symon is a man who "just wanted to make the world a better place." As such, he is a perfect comic straight man for Fitzhugh, who sets up the plot tensions immediately with a wonderful flashback scene of a young Paul, age 15, presenting his environmentally conscious school paper to Jerry Landis. Landis is the president of Landaq Corp., [a loose affiliation] of "millionaires and billionaires" who have joined to form a shady biotech firm responsible for some of the most egregious violations of Mother Earth imaginable.
Paul's paper is ignored entirely by Landis, and, when Landis's cost-cutting indirectly kills Paul's father, a researcher for one of Landaq's sister companies, the boy's mission in life becomes clear: (1) save the environment from greedy, reckless humans, and (2) bring about the downfall of Jerry Landis and his toxic corporation. That success in the second ensures success in the first is serendipity of the highest sort. Paul has a goal and a motive, and now all he needs is opportunity.
That opportunity arises early in the novel via some entirely unlikely (often bizarre) events. To go into specifics here would require a dissertation on the particulars of Werner's syndrome, the U.S. laws governing organ donation, the genetic engineering of oversize baboons, the Malthusian theory of diminishing natural resources, the psychology of methamphetamine-fueled bikers and wisecracking paraplegic heart-transplant patients, as well as the screenwriting aspirations of anorgan procurement specialist who is not afraid to cut a few corners to become the next Robert Towne. Frankly, the plot is ludicrous. But trust me, in Bill Fitzhugh's hands that is a good thing.
Fitzhugh's strongest suits as a writer are his diligent research, sharply drawn supporting characters and fearless sense of humor. In "Pest Control," Fitzhugh cited more insect genuses than Peterson's guide, lending the book absolute credibility. Here he dives even further into his subject matter, dropping scientific terms with an ease to match Michael Crichton but offering readers the bonus of a plot and characters! Fitzhugh's revelation of his many sources makes it a bit easier to see how the author plies his craft.
It is Fitzhugh's remarkable sense of humor, though, that is the real reason to rush out and pick up a copy of "The Organ Grinders." Slapstick of Keatonian proportions meshes with witty lyric-play ("There must be 50 ways to lose your liver") and a solid grasp of the absurd (testicle-grafting surgery, enough said) to form a laugh-out-loud read. All kidding, or at least most kidding, aside, Fitzhugh is a young writer whose sense of humor masks his deeper motives. He admires his earnest, well-meaning protagonists and is rooting for them every step of the way. His wit and style are as compelling as his tightly wound thriller plots, and his thoughts on the world we live in are fascinating and, often, spot on.
On finishing the book, I found myself wrestling with the notion of exactly how its utterly unlikely premise ever made it into print. Thank God it did, but, really, baboons and heart transplants as the backbone for a comedic eco-thriller? And then I popped my well-worn copy of Paul Simon's "Graceland" in the old Sony and turned the volume up loud. Soon I was singing along and having a great time while simultaneously contemplating the precarious state of our world. So with gusto now: "Medicine is magical, and magical is art/ Think of the boy in the bubble and the baby with the baboon heart. And I believe . . ." That's what Bill Fitzhugh has done, and the result is an awe-inspiring feat.
Editorials
Booklist
"If Michael Crichton and Carl Hiaasen collaborated...the result might look a lot like this very bizarre novel."CNN.com
"… laugh-out-loud funny... Fitzhugh melds deadly seriousness and satire to keep the customer satisfied."Rocky Mountain News
"...a funny book that satirizes advances in biotechnology."Washington Post
"His wit and style are as compelling as his tightly wound thriller plots…the result is an awe-inspiring feat.Rocky Mountain News
If there's a lesson to be learned from Bill Fitzhugh's new comic novel, The Organ Grinders, it is "don't cut the author off in traffic." On the surface, it's a funny book that satirizes advances in biotechnology that threaten to disrupt human evolution. That is, unless they are beaten to the punch by greedy corporate executives bent on destroying the environment. But while the author makes fun of ineffectual activists and their apathetic public, most of the novel's characters seem the angriest when they're stuck in traffic.The Organ Grinders is the story of Paul Symon, an environmentalist who has spent his whole life fighting a polluting corporate executive. He blames Jerry Landis, president of Xenotech, for his father's death in a bio-tech industrial accident. Meanwhile, Landis is suffering from a disease that causes him to age exponentially. He has charged his bio-tech company to raise baboons in order to ensure a supply of transplant organs so that he can live long enough for scientists to find a cure to his illness.
A parade of characters march through the book, each representing participants in the late-20th- century environmental morality play. There's the transplant procurement specialist who uses his degree in acting to convince grieving family members to donate organs. And an elderly woman who tells Paul, when he confronts her about using plastic grocery bags, that she doesn't care about the world her grandchildren will inherit. As in all good comic novels, the characters' lives intertwine in a satirical manner throughout the plot, culminating in an incredible scene at the baboon organ harvest in the backwoods of Mississippi that cannot be described without ruining the rest of the book.
Fitzhugh's humor prevents the story from becoming didactic. A good example is his description of a contentious meeting of a group of vegetarians, all arguing the merits of their particular diets. A brawl ensues, as a "rope-thin young man who was trying to stand up to make his point more forcefully," but who "didn't seem to have the strength," yells out: "Am I the only true vegan in the this room?"
Paul and his wife Georgette then observe "the official split between the lactovo-tolerant and the pure vegan factions of the Vegetarian Association of Central California." While not a laugh a minute, The Organ Grinders does clock in with a guffaw every 10. The author's willingness to make fun of people on both sides of the issue makes the book more interesting than if he had divided it solely into heroes and villains. Do you side with the corporate executive or the eco- terrorist who buries the exec in dirty diapers up to his neck in his own landfill?
The one constant theme of the book is the creeping effect of public apathy. People are so overwhelmed by the crushing weight of the world's environmental problems that they are too exhausted to object to the seemingly small acts of desecration, like watching someone throw a cigarette butt on the ground.
The cumulative effect of such pollution, however, only adds to a sense of hopelessness and continues the vicious cycle of apathy. Amid the hilarity, this seems to be the message of The Organ Grinders, second only to the admonition to avoid the author in traffic.
The Washington Post
"The Organ Grinders," Bill Fitzhugh's follow-up to the very fine, very funny "Pest Control," provides compelling evidence to counter the theory of the sophomore slump. Fitzhugh is in fine comic form and zanier than ever. For those who missed his story of Bob Dillon, the hapless exterminator-hero whose advertisement for his eco-friendly extermination services landed himon the Top 10 list of the world's greatest assassins (of people, not bugs), "The Organ Grinders" is a great chance to catch a glimpse of a truly uniqueand talented young writer.Like Dillon before him, Paul Symon is a man who "just wanted to make the world a better place." As such, he is a perfect comic straight man for Fitzhugh, who sets up the plot tensions immediately with a wonderful flashback scene of a young Paul, age 15, presenting his environmentally conscious school paper to Jerry Landis. Landis is the president of Landaq Corp., [a loose affiliation] of "millionaires and billionaires" who have joined to form a shady biotech firm responsible for some of the most egregious violations of Mother Earth imaginable.
Paul's paper is ignored entirely by Landis, and, when Landis's cost-cutting indirectly kills Paul's father, a researcher for one of Landaq's sister companies, the boy's mission in life becomes clear: (1) save the environment from greedy, reckless humans, and (2) bring about the downfall of Jerry Landis and his toxic corporation. That success in the second ensures success in the first is serendipity of the highest sort. Paul has a goal and a motive, and now all he needs is opportunity.
That opportunity arises early in the novel via some entirely unlikely (often bizarre) events. To go into specifics here would require a dissertation on the particulars of Werner's syndrome, the U.S. laws governing organ donation, the genetic engineering of oversize baboons, the Malthusian theory of diminishing natural resources, the psychology of methamphetamine-fueled bikers and wisecracking paraplegic heart-transplant patients, as well as the screenwriting aspirations of anorgan procurement specialist who is not afraid to cut a few corners to become the next Robert Towne. Frankly, the plot is ludicrous. But trust me, in Bill Fitzhugh's hands that is a good thing.
Fitzhugh's strongest suits as a writer are his diligent research, sharply drawn supporting characters and fearless sense of humor. In "Pest Control," Fitzhugh cited more insect genuses than Peterson's guide, lending the book absolute credibility. Here he dives even further into his subject matter, dropping scientific terms with an ease to match Michael Crichton but offering readers the bonus of a plot and characters! Fitzhugh's revelation of his many sources makes it a bit easier to see how the author plies his craft.
It is Fitzhugh's remarkable sense of humor, though, that is the real reason to rush out and pick up a copy of "The Organ Grinders." Slapstick of Keatonian proportions meshes with witty lyric-play ("There must be 50 ways to lose your liver") and a solid grasp of the absurd (testicle-grafting surgery, enough said) to form a laugh-out-loud read. All kidding, or at least most kidding, aside, Fitzhugh is a young writer whose sense of humor masks his deeper motives. He admires his earnest, well-meaning protagonists and is rooting for them every step of the way. His wit and style are as compelling as his tightly wound thriller plots, and his thoughts on the world we live in are fascinating and, often, spot on.
On finishing the book, I found myself wrestling with the notion of exactly how its utterly unlikely premise ever made it into print. Thank God it did, but, really, baboons and heart transplants as the backbone for a comedic eco-thriller? And then I popped my well-worn copy of Paul Simon's "Graceland" in the old Sony and turned the volume up loud. Soon I was singing along and having a great time while simultaneously contemplating the precarious state of our world. So with gusto now: "Medicine is magical, and magical is art/ Think of the boy in the bubble and the baby with the baboon heart. And I believe . . ." That's what Bill Fitzhugh has done, and the result is an awe-inspiring feat.