This is weird and simultaneously serious af about the ever decreasing regulation of work. The characters seem emotionally shallow as if there was nothing else to them besides their ability to "fill in" (Marx's estranged labor, anyone?). I feel like the very dehumanization of work is the central figure of this book: there's no need to stick to humanly possible jobs - you might as well fill in for arthropods. I was intrigued at @hunterowens 's description of this book as "metaphysical temping" but it's very on point - work has overcome all of its limitations: legal, moral, physical, ontological, embodied in the wretched figure of the temp, whose existence is reduced to labor. I feel like reading this over and over, it hits so close to home.
paperback, 208 pages
Published March 3, 2020 by Coffee House Press.