I ended up not finishing this book because the story didn't draw me in after the first 50 pages. I may revisit the book at another after seeing some of the other reviews stating they had initial trouble getting into it.

I will be thinking about this book for a long time.

How does a small town West Virginia Buick salesman become a world famous comedian, literally, overnight? Dwight Bridges begins a funny and surreal journey after a disingenuous act of antisemitic vandalism. With witty writing and surprising cameo appearances by some of history's somewhat interesting characters, the story takes us across the country and into the 1970's energy crisis. This is a satire that examines bigotry, humor, and dignity. This book delivers a unique reading experience that will stick with the reader.

4.5 stars

Heresy Press provided an early galley for review.

I am always looking for new authors, so this independently published novel certainly hit that box. The description intrigued me enough to check it out.

The dictionary defines deadpan as "marked by or accomplished with a careful pretense of seriousness or calm detachment; impassive or expressionless". The definition applies certainly to this story. It is also a term used to describe some comedy; comedy plays a part in this story as well.

This short novel took a little bit to get into. The opening is very disorienting, providing a feeling of confusion similar to that which the protagonist Bridges is experiencing. But, with each chapter, that swirling starts to fade as details begin to present themselves. It is like one of those toy slide-puzzles we had as kids in the 70's that took a bit of work to get the pieces to start to fall into their proper place.

Don't let the length fool you; for a shorter book it packs a lot in. It does not spend time on exposition or world-building; the reader is expected to connect some of the dots themselves. The story bounces around from three or so narrative viewpoints. Where it gets tricky is that some of these take place in different time periods and different parallel worlds. There is no indicators at the start of each chapter (some books will give a name or description beneath the chapter number to differentiate things). The reader just has to get into the flow and pay a lot of attention.

In the first half, there is a chapter I really enjoyed. Bridges finds himself on a panel with four famous figures from comedy. Walter manages to perfectly nail the dialogue in this scene; I could easily hear the comedians speaking these words in their classic, iconic voices. Clearly he is a comedy fan.

In the end, the story made more sense to me. Now that I got it, this might be a book that I'll have to revisit to see what additional details a second read might illuminate.

This book is short but a lot happens. I like the description that it's a funny book about an unfunny topic. There are actually several things that happen that are more serious than the overall tone, although racism was the most prominent topic. I did chuckle out loud a few times at some of the absurdities.
I didn't really understand how the whole thing worked, but the end was pretty perfect.
Thanks to NetGalley for letting me read this

A quirky novel with enough twists to keep you guessing, and enough substance to keep you thinking. I like a novel that moves and turns and is more than just a straightforward story, and this is such a novel.

The novel begins in a Kafkaesque manner when its protagonist, a slightly antisemitic West Virginia used-car salesman named Dwight Bridges, finds himself suddenly transformed into a world-famous, Jerry Seinfeld-caliber comedian Richie Ritchie. As he is shoved by his fast-talking, coke-snorting manager onto a lit stage, in front of thousands of adoring fans, with no explanation or preparation, he simply introduces himself –– Dwight Bridges, a Buick dealership owner in Hoggzswallow Hollow, West Virginia –– and the crowd roars with laughter, thinking it's a clever new schtick.

The real Dwight Bridges’ life in Hoggzswallow Hollow, West Virginia is quite pathetic. It’s the middle of the 1970s, a time of oil crisis and long lines at the gas stations. His Buick inventory sits dead on the parking lot, while his competitor, Dale Dixon’s Datsun Depot, is selling its Japanese merchandise like hotcakes. One night, after a garage band jam session with his buddies, he is sucked by these same good ol’ boys, Point Break-style, into a crime spree –– spraying antisemitic slurs on the walls of the local synagogue. (Dwight sprays “Dump Kissinger.”)

In a parallel universe, where he’s a famous comedian, Dwight is in a mind-altering fever dream. Timelines, places, and the entourage change with dizzying speed. As Richie Ritchie, Dwight parties in Vegas with a quartet of classically-trained musician-showgirls. He flies on a private jet with the Shah of Iran. He shares the stage with Mel Brooks, Don Rickles, and Jerry Lewis. A surprisingly lucid Sarah Palin makes a bizarre appearance as the President of the United States. We’re transported from Las Vegas to Teheran to LA to Sinai and to New York City. The characters reference the TV shows and movies that have not yet been made; they visit baseball games that had happened decades ago or that have not yet happened.

All these transformations, both temporal and spatial, are made possible with a machine, positron-emission muon ionic holographic tele-transporter, to which a surprisingly large number of characters have access. Even Dwight’s mother, a classic American species of an old lady indigenous to the Appalachia, the bathrobe-clad, sleeping-bonnet-wearing, shotgun-wielding grandma, somehow makes use of the apparatus. In one phantasmagoric scene we find Mother Bridges in the Delta Sky 360 Luxury Suite that overlooks the Dodgers-Yankees game from the 1950s, playing strip chess with the Shah of Iran. (Mother Bridges loses).

‘Deadpan’ is a visual novel. Written almost as a screenplay, it is lean, rich with detailed imagery, and filled with clever, reference and allusions-heavy dialogue. But beneath the comedic hijinks there’s a palpable nostalgia for a bygone era. The author, Richard Walter, misses that era, the 1970s, the time of turmoil and crises but also of breakthrough, unapologetic art and of hope, and he makes the reader miss it too. When faced with hate and bigotry, our choices, in the words of one character, are: “pretend and ignore, or confront and let the chips fly.” “Myself,” that character replies to himself, “I’m a flying chipper.” This novel lets the chips fly.