Paths Not Yet Taken - reviewed by Gregg Sapp on Reedsy Discovery 18/5/2024
Loved it!
😍😍😍😍
What would you do if the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom showed up in your garage. Simon Pope takes him golfing.
Shakespeare said, “uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.” Although we often mock our rulers, they do have a tough job. They might be forgiven for wanting to just walk away from it. Such is the premise of Philip Rennett’s breezy satire, “Paths Not Yet Taken.”
Simon Pope is a middle-aged man who works in a warehouse by day, but by night he assumes the persona of Esteban Canafanta on the dark web platform @TheTrth, “transforming his dull, tragic life into something more exciting,” where he “sets the world straight in a deluge of righteous fury.” His rants are more therapeutic than sincere, though he acquires a following of bombastic and indignant compatriots. Then, to his astonishment and somewhat to his chagrin, the frequent object of his scorn—the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom—appears in his garage. “Er, I come in peace,” the PM sputters.
Despite their awkward introduction, Pope and the PM forge a symbiotic alliance. The PM confesses, “Long story short, I’ve had enough. I’m resigning.” Before he does, though, he asks Pope to grant him a couple of days to decompress. Pope opens himself to the PM’s plight, while the PM looks to Pope to instruct him into the minutiae of real life. They drink together. They walk Pope’s dogs. They play a round of golf.
Meanwhile, the entire nation is gripped in a massive manhunt. By the time the PM gives himself up, an interim leader has been installed. Throughout the government, advisors scramble to spin the incident so that nobody in a position of authority is embarrassed. Thus, they need a scapegoat. Because of his questionable online activity, not to mention a secret past involving a traumatic experience in Afghanistan, Pope makes for an ideal scapegoat.
Rennett writes with a casual humor that depicts the inner workings of government as chaotic fraud and frivolity:
“Being a prime minister was such a fake role. It was like captaining a rudderless ship, with a crew permanently on the edge of mutiny… Like Napoleon’s generals, the best prime ministers were those who had been lucky.”
There are no real villains, just assorted bureaucrats trying to manage a situation that their rigidly structured systems were not designed to accommodate.
This gentle lampoon pulls some of its punches where a more acerbic tone would’ve enhanced the comedy, but in the end it's hopeful and forgiving - rare qualities in today’s politics.