The Map and the Territory

The career of fictional photographer and painter Jed Martin is the ostensible subject of Michel Houellebecq's latest novel, The Map and the Territory. Yet closer inspection reveals that the actual subject of this canny and quite sad novel is post-industrial, late-capitalist Western Civilization itself. Jed's life is a lonely one. Before he becomes an international art star, he has one significant relationship, with a beautiful Russian businesswoman, Olga, which ends as abruptly as it begins. Outside of that there's his dying father whom he only sees once a year at Christmas. Most of the time Jed's attention is focused on his work, which progresses from high-end photos of manufactured metal objects, to photos of maps from Michelin guides, to postmodern portraits of power brokers. Houellebecq, a notorious "bad boy" of literature with a reputation for sometimes repellent opinions, is relatively low-key in his skewering of the denizens of the art world, the world of business, and the zones where they overlap (though his unfortunate racist and sexist tendencies are never too far off stage). His writing throughout is nimble, his wit is quick and malicious. He even appears as a character in the book, becoming one of Jed's few trusted friends after being commissioned to write an essay for a catalog of his work. Sadly, things don't end well for anyone. Houellebecq's bleak belief that moral values have been superseded by economic ones, that self-interest is the primary human motivation, and that both will be trumped by the inevitable extinction of the human race, shapes TMATT but doesn't destroy it. The end result is a grim but bracing read.