Kirn’s writing is inspired, sharply funny–and unforgiving. The Cobb family suffers from a particularly American dysfunction: they deal with their misery by throwing themselves into a series of inane and mundane fads. Justin’s brother becomes obsessed with Sergio Valente jeans; his mother, with celebrities. Mom and Dad repair their marriage by taking up golf. In Kirn’s view, people don’t change, much less improve. Problems don’t get solved, they just get superseded by other problems. Justin replaces his thumb addiction with caffeine addiction, then codeine cough syrup, then decongestants, marijuana, Ritalin. “I had a hole to fill, a hole I sometimes feared was larger than I was,” he says.
“Thumbsucker” is largely episodic, a collection of great moments that aren’t all causally linked in that comforting way we’re used to. At one point, Justin saves his father’s life in a heroic and manly effort. Later, he falls back into his most juvenile habit. Machismo, it turns out, is just a cheap and temporary remedy, like all the others.
