Spiotta's novel is like a collage of Nik or a pastiche of Nik that is more parody than story. All these bits and pieces - the letters he writes to Denise and in her name, the CD jackets, the fake reviews, the entry in the chronicles - take you right back to this particular time.
Yet despite all this extraordinary detail I am left holding a hollow egg. Perhaps a better analogy is a set of Russian dolls; each layer shining and intricate and bright, but at the end, a void.
It is, however, short-changing the book to say it is all about Nik.
You can go on the hunt for Denise. Denise is obsessed with her brother, doesn't love her boyfriend, is indifferent to the father of her child, loves her daughter, is a film aficionado.
You can go on the hunt for political threads - the role of the media, the presence and impact of violence, the way we are shaped and shape ourselves within contemporary ideology.
Overseas reviews have employed a vocabulary that includes words such as stunning, intelligent, triumph, virtuoso, gritty, mysterious and so on. Yes, some parts did move me, and though I admired the clever authorial shifts and layers, the hollow characters did nothing for either my heart or my intelligence.
Stone Arabia
by Dana Spiotta
(Text Publishing $37)
Reviewed by Paula Green