A JPod is not Steve Jobs’ latest device for conquering the minds of today’s youth. It refers to a group of workers in an anonymous Vancouver game-design company, who have been forced to sit together in the far reaches of the building on account of a computer glitch that has recognised that all of their surnames begin with the letter ‘J’. Their isolation from the rest of the company, combined with their classically Couplandesque way of defining themselves by referencing TV shows and snacks from the 1980s, means they are a well-bonded, supportive group of friends.
This is just as well because Ethan, the novel’s main protagonist, is going through a tough time – his mother, a professional weed farmer, has accidentally killed a biker who owed her money; his father has decided to start an affair with a girl who was two years below Ethan at school; and his brother has become heavily involved in trafficking illegal Chinese immigrants. Perhaps most troubling of all is the fact that his nemesis is a shady, sanctimonious but well-respected local author: Douglas Coupland.
‘JPod’ professes to be (the real) Coupland’s attempt to update ‘Microserfs’ for the Google generation, but what isn’t clear is why that novel needs updating. It was Coupland’s pertinent take on popular culture and ability to define the zeitgeist that brought him to the media’s attention; but it was his talent for creating credible, loveable characters to live in his hyperreal worlds that won him the hearts of readers.
Much of this novel is very funny – for example, the characters’ nostalgia for penis enlargement spam from 2003, and a long discussion about how most people working in the tech industries are mildly autistic. But it sometimes feels as if Coupland is ticking off a list of references to make him still sound ‘down with the kids’ instead of concentrating on characters whom those kids might actually care about.