Review of The Secret of Life by Rudy Rucker

For some it is religious piety. For some ‘age is just a number’. For some it is to party like there is no tomorrow. For some it is do what mom or dad say (sadly). For some the bottle. For some the next big challenge. Undoubtedly there is a litany of other things people hold as dear: the secret to existence. For Rudy Rucker in his 1985 novel The Secret of Life, it is something more alien, and oddly enough, still very human.

The Secret of Life is the coming-of-age of one Conrad Bunger in the 1960s. An impulsive yet inquisitive teen, Conrad spends his time popping zits, doing his best to fit in despite his awkward personality, chase girls, and otherwise physically survive the accidents of fun and adventure he puts his body through. Conrad also has an abiding interest in existence, particularly of the French, Sartrean, existential variety, specifically raison d’etre (natch). The thought strikes him one day that life is meaningless, and thus he makes it his (admittedly young) life’s ambition to find meaning. A few years of sex, drugs, and college later, he discovers something about himself that is so profound that it changes the very shape of the question. Or does it?

In common parlance, The Secret of Life is science fiction. There are UFOs and aliens, therefore it must be sf. But it’s clear Rucker is trying to blur the lines between reality and what reality could/might be. And it’s for thematic purposes. To say precisely how would spoil the story, but suffice at saying Rucker’s grand metaphor more than once hits the nail on the head. I was once a Conrad Bunger, and remember feeling the same (figuratively!—for those who have read the novel).

The Secret of Life, like a lot of Rucker’s work, is gonzo fun featuring a tongue-in-cheek intelligence. In most ways, Conrad is a typical horny teen boy looking for adventure and who lives like there is no tomorrow. Rucker plays this like a drum. The angst, awkwardness, and espirit of that age is captured in wildness, slapstick humor, and, occasionally poignant scenes between young people trying to understand the world, or believing they already do. Another way of saying this is, the gravitas inherent to the book’s title plays out differently than the reader might expect. If Beavis and Butthead ever took Sartre seriously, the resulting book might have such a vibe.

Thus, it must be pointed out that The Secret of Life is very much a young man’s game. This is not to say young women would not also enjoy the book, only that the protagonist is a teenage male, and while reasonably intelligent, pulls tricks of that age’s nature. To be crystal clear, the book’s ultimate message is not immature, but certainly some of the scenes which take the story to that point are of the juvenile male variety.

In the end, The Secret of Life is a fun, light bildungsroman that takes the road less travelled. Rucker digs into teenage boy life with gusto, giving it a perspective that is both relatable and science fiction-y. It’s not a universally recommendable novel, however. There is an audience who will really enjoy it, likely young men, and men with their own youth still in memory who can look back with a smile and laugh and wonder that they ever became the men they are—survived, for that matter.