The Delivery

December 1, 2020
A beguiling sophomore novel by noted graphic designer Mendelsund, a timely exploration of alienation and power. When Mendelsund's novel opens, a young man known only as "the delivery boy" is riding down the streets of some unknown city. The Kafkaesque anonymity is appropriate, for no character has a name; the closest such thing is the moniker "Wodge," used for a co-worker "born in a trash heap," and the delivery boy isn't sure whether it's a given name or not. He has a limited command of the language, which Mendelsund, in a brilliant visual turn, signals by single-line paragraphs, most of them quite simple: "Little-to-no traffic. Few customers." The delivery boy lives and breathes by tips, but more by customer reviews, and if less than stellar, then the Inquisitor--beg pardon, the Supervisor--intervenes: "The Supervisor took you into the office with the barred door if he became aware of negative comments." The Supervisor is the seat of all power, a man of reptilian gaze who worries toothpicks so much that his jaw muscles bulge. The delivery boy has one sort-of friend, N., a woman who corrects his English ("Gro-ss. It means vomit") but seems caught up in the Supervisor's web. That nexus remains mysterious even as we learn that the delivery boy is not without his resources: He had been a student of languages in his unnamed homeland, and he begins to piece together words and phrases: " 'Asswipe.' He tried the word out, quietly, to himself. He knew the word sideswipe, and wondered." As the delivery boy acquires this new tongue and awareness, the paragraphs grow longer and shapelier, but this doesn't necessarily mean he'll ever be free of debt to be repaid to the company: As the book ends, he doesn't know whether he'll ever be happy or at home in this new land, only that he has the wretched capacity "to go on endlessly if necessary, on and on." A timely critique of corporate vassalage in the form of an elegant, if somber, parable.

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Starred review from December 21, 2020
Mendelsund (Same Same) explores identity, community, and the past’s power to influence the future in his stunning latest. In a bustling city, an unnamed food delivery boy lives on tips and star ratings, and sleeps in the warehouse that handles his assignments. A brusque woman named N. manages him, overseen by an ominous male supervisor. The delivery boy frequently remembers his past in an unnamed country ruled by a strongman, where he played in a youth orchestra and had a crush on a French horn player. When the delivery boy gives N. a necklace, he doesn’t get the reaction he’d hoped for, and both are compromised in the eyes of the supervisor. As images from delivery boy’s past become more frequent, such as details of the “tyrant” who ruled the country he fled from, the narrative becomes looser and offers up clues about why he became a refugee. Mendelsund conveys the delivery boy’s experiences and memories in brief crisp cuts separated by ample white space, where what’s not said takes on great importance. The author’s playful sense of form and command of language make for an original and provocative novel. Agent: Chris Parris-Lamb, the Gernert Company.

January 1, 2021
Like his debut, Same Same (2019), Mendelsund's second novel exists on an otherworldly plane; the protagonist is a young, unnamed immigrant who is working as a delivery boy. He spends his days dodging traffic on his bike, scrambling to get each delivery completed on time, and desperately trying to get tips and the requisite stars from his unimpressed customers. In short, fractured chapters, the delivery boy makes his deliveries while also longing for the affections of N., a dispatcher in his Dickensian workplace. The graceful economy of language and a setting that feels almost like the real world are reminiscent of Kafka, while the halting prose echoes David Markson's Wittgenstein's Mistress. But as well as being a fable set in a semi-recognizable place, this is also a vivid depiction of what it means to be a delivery driver in a world of casualized labor. Like Johanna Stoberock's Pigs (2019), Mendelsund's novel is not only a parable of contemporary capitalism but also a wonderful story, one that just as it begins to sag instead launches into a magnificent final act. This is an assured, hugely enjoyable novel full of grace and wit from a writer with a unique vision of what fiction can be.

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