Fiction. AFTER SUCH KNOWLEDGE PARK is an angry book. But, thankfully, not in the way we want it to be: it’s not a satire, nor a tract, nor a critique—there’s no righteous, organizing ideology,
nor, for that matter, any coherent narrative voice that could carry one. It’s basically a 130-page block of sputtering, spittle-flecked micro-narratives, careening through an obsessive range of
stylistic impersonations, mostly in order to deride them.