Jessi Jezewska Stevens
On the eve of Occupy, C is flat broke. Once a renowned textile artist, she’s now the sole proprietor of an arts supply store in Lower Manhattan. Her ex-husband was her business partner, but since the divorce, C’s been stuck with the shop, an empty apartment, a stack of bills . . . and a persistent hallucination in the form of a tiny man in a three-piece suit with a pointed interest in system collapse.
As C manages her breakdown, the media reports on the developing story of an eco-terrorist cabal threatening to save the country from self-destruction with schemes that range from the frighteningly practical, like hacking the national grid, to the outright science-fictional. Is C’s visitor part of the hackers’ plans – or a rogue glitch of her mind’s own making?
Replaying our recent history through a distorting glass – as though William Gibson had penned The Big Short – The Visitors is a mordantly funny tour through How We Got Here and What We Do Next. This is a world where not only civic infrastructure but our own darkest impulses are vulnerable to malware; where garden gnomes dress like Wall Street bankers and talk like Don DeLillo; where sex is little more than a blip in our metadata. This is the Great American Novel about the limits of art and love when we are faced with total economic and technological impotence – a tragicomic tale asking whether there might be better things to do with our feelings of alienation than to document them, endlessly, online