Tim O’Brien is best known for his dynamic 1990 collection of linked short stories The Things They Carried, which concerns the members of a platoon of soldiers during the Vietnam War. In it, O’Brien draws from his experiences in the war; it is a devastatingly dark but deeply human look at a group of individuals attempting to cope with a hellish conflict that they do not understand. As I wrote in my review of the collection: Generally, O’Brien writes in an autobiographical tone, even using his own name when he refers to himself as a first-person character. It’s hard to know what’s fiction and what’s fact in the collection, and O’Brien alludes to that, intimating that it doesn’t matter.

In contrast, America Fantastica is obviously all made up. It’s a tall tale about a chronic liar who may or may not be named Boyd Halverson, a hero of the fake news networks who abruptly snaps, robs a bank, and kidnaps the petite teller. She turns out to be amenable to the abduction; in fact, she continually tries to seduce him and become engaged to him. In the meantime, they are pursued by her psychotic murderous ex-boyfriend, a psychotic torturer hired by Halverson’s ex-wife’s husband, and other unsavory characters. It is initially difficult to make sense of all the strange goings-on and satirical plot twists, but eventually, about two hundred pages in, everything falls into place and the book becomes very difficult to put down. At times it seems to be infectious nonsense, a comic book without pictures. In fact, it is one of the most entertaining and insightful novels I have read in a long time.

The underlying theme running through the book is America’s obsession with falsehood, a national malady that O’Brien calls mythomania, the lying disease, which at the time of the story, just before COVID shuts down the country, has reached epidemic proportions. It is promulgated in the novel by the current POTUS and by a nationwide grid of falsifiers who try to outdo each other by spreading more and more outlandish stories; it is epitomized by Halverson, who is so used to lying about everything that it becomes second nature to him. He hardly realizes what the truth is anymore.

Recently I read a book called Trust Me, I’m Lying: Confessions of a Media Manipulator by Ryan Holiday, and it was perfect preparation for America Fantastica. The thing is, Trust Me, I’m Lying is nonfiction; it is an expose of a horrific malady flooding and overwhelming the internet of unscrupulous so-called reporters who generate clickbait stories out of their imaginations without bothering to research and find out whether they are true. O’Brien’s vision about a country inundated with falsehood, its citizens gobbling it eagerly and begging for more, is hardly even an exaggeration. This bodes ill for those who crave honesty and forthrightness as national and international standards.

Near the end of the novel, COVID strikes and the world goes into lockdown. However, this does nothing to contain the spreading and escalating of the plague of mythomania. Like COVID, it infects the vulnerable, leaving them helpless to its ravages. Some of the wild news stories that O’Brien’s fake news writers throw into the mix seem hopelessly far-fetched until I glance at current internet news feeds. I then realize that truth in the media is already in danger of extinction. O’Brien’s satirical spotlight is timely and essential. Highly recommended.