JAMESTOWN

"In my mind I watch each word of this hurtle upward, bounce off one of earth's halt-atrophied prosthetic moons, fall back down, hit my crown, and break into its constituent letters, which slide down my neck and arms, through the bus floor, and are crushed by its tank tread into the earth, where each then merges with the genetic material of the single-celled organisms those pre-annihilation Cassandras warned would be earth's sole post-annihilation forms of life."
—page 27, Jamestown by Matthew Sharpe

Jamestown is one of those strange hybrid novels that is somewhat hard to categorize. It is part historical novel, part present-day social commentary, and part dystopian near-future science fiction. The narrative revolves around a company of "explorers" from post-annihilation New York City who are sent to see what resources are available in the Chesapeake Bay area. There they encounter "natives" who have decided to live as the original native peoples of the area did.

Naturally, the two "civilizations" misunderstand the motives of one another, or, perhaps, they understand the motives of one another too well. Conflict inevitably comes, although love does as well, with Pocahontas and John Rolfe becoming the native Juliet and the explorer Romeo. Their love happens in the midst of violence and bloodshed amongst their respective "tribes"—some of that love sent in text messages sent upon precious wireless communications devices, some transmitted out into the ether for "us" to catch.

The familiar pieces of the "historical" story are intact. Pocahontas saves John Smith from execution by her father Powhatan. The explorers miserably try to establish Jamestown. The natives help them survive at the outset. The explorers alienate the natives through misunderstanding and exploitation. Warfare ensues. John Rolfe and Pocahontas express their love for one another. Rolfe and Pocahontas return to Rolfe's homeland—in this case Manhattan rather than London.

There are unfamiliar pieces that transport the story to another time and place, though. The explorers head south in their armored bus/personnel carrier, fleeing in the wake of the terrorist bombing of the Chrysler Building—which takes place at the hands of another New York company/gang. Telecommunications are through the aforementioned PDAs. The natives are able to raise and catch edible food in a radiation-saturated environment due to filtration technology, that ultimately is not theirs, but garnered in trade with Japanese-Americans living in the same area.

Sharpe's writing is great. At times it is gritty and low-brow. At times it is elegant and poetic. But, it is always moving us along, playing with language, showing us things we didn't see at first glance. Jamestown reminds me of another novel tackling the same subject matter—William T. Vollmann's Argall. Although Argall is an historical novel and Jamestown is an historical novel transposed into a desolate time-yet-to-be, they both play with the story. They also both play with language while telling that story. (And, how many different ways can you spell and pun and play upon the name of Pocahontas?)

I finished Jamestown a few weeks ago, yet bits and pieces of the book keep boiling up from the soup of my unconscious. I think that is telling; it means that the book is still alive within me, in some way. There are still times when Argall bubbles forth unexpectedly and I believe that Jamestown will continue to fuel my imagination in a similar fashion.