Fluke
March 11th, 2024
I can say without hyperbole that this book, Fluke, by Brian Klaas, is one of the best I've ever read.
The problem with reviewing something is that you don't want to spoil the thing for a potential reader, but you have to say enough to make them feel compelled to read it. I will do my darndest.
Simply put, Fluke is about exactly that: the accidents, coincidences, surprises, the chaotic and random events, big and small, that dot the threads of our lives and the fabric of our deeply interwoven history.
You cannot exist in this universe without interacting with this universe. It is impossible. Even if you decided to become a reclusive hermit and live in the middle of nowhere, nowhere is somewhere, and every step and breath you take creates ripples across space and time.
There were certain truths that I've perceived about the world that weren't reflected back at me through common "wisdom" or collected data; mainly, the idea that the world is too complex to ever be controlled or predicted simply, if at all.
In my books, these beliefs stretch back to my earliest days, from novellas like Them and Flip, to the graphic novel I'm finishing now. But I haven't been able to express them like Fluke does.
I've worked in restaurants longer than most people I've met, and I am the first person, day after day, to admit that I have no idea how busy a shift will be. Sure, there are specific metrics you can look at -- the number of reservations, the fact that it's a holiday or the weekend -- to make educated, simplified guesses, but humans are so complex and diverse as beings that it is impossible to actually predict what will happen on any given day.
And this is true of any day, anywhere, at any time in human history. A frightening, exhilarating fact of life.
Klaas (a fellow, former Minnesotan whose writing I fell in love with over on Substack) dives in deep, exploring change, chance, probabilities, our brains and bodies, faith, mob mentality, philosophy, stories (extraordinary true ones, and the ones we tell ourselves), locusts, butterflies, time, math, science, and more, and ends with some of the most beautiful, inspiring writing about life that I have had the luck to read.
To say I highly recommend this book isn't tall enough praise; if you've ever felt hopeless or overwhelmed or uncertain about the inextricable existence we all share, these are 13 chapters you need to read. I've been raving that my brain has been broken by this book for days now, and even though it's shattered, I have never felt better to let the pieces lie.
Kurt Vonnegut, as shared in Fluke, sums it up:
"A purpose of human life, no matter who is controlling it, is to love whoever is around to be loved."