Ether

In Ehrenreich’s second novel, God takes the form of a homeless man adrift in a frightening postapocalyptic world who vainly seeks to return to his former glory. At first glance, this notion appears an interesting conceit; God rendered a has-been, a loser, whether by the faithlessness of modern man, the advances of science, or the godlessness of this terrible present. Had the author taken a page from Milton or Dante and pursued a consistent metaphor, he might have produced a fine commentary on the status of God in modernity. Unfortunately, Ehrenreich appears primarily interested in debasing divinity (he is fascinated by squalor) and word-smithing small gems in an otherwise unconnected series of vignettes. There is peculiar beauty to be found (the burning of a hummingbird on a gasoline pyre), but much is too obviously an exploration of Ehrenreich’s whims, such as a cloying section devoted to facts about sea creatures that is a far cry from the meditations of Melville. God is a difficult subject, perhaps best left to serious thinkers and not authors interested in shock value. (Nov.)