I think what Joe Stretch wants me to say is that he’s like George Orwell for the Skins generation. Although I’m sure Orwell never had to use the words ‘fuck me’ to get his point across. The Xiaolu Guo quote proudly emblazoned on the novel’s cover describes Stretch as ‘a radical new writer’. But in a literary lagoon that swells with ghost-written autobiographies and chick lit, we are all too aware that ‘radical’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘good’.

Don’t get me wrong: Stretch’s take-no-prisoners denunciation of our ultra-technological society is a rigorous and thought-provoking assault on the disposable nature of the modern world. How long will it be before humans are ultimately rendered obsolete? My only issue is the use of melancholic extremes and provocative shock tactics to make his point (for example, Roger, the blogging fanatic, to use Stretch’s words ‘craps a motherboard’ – which begs the question, did this truly enhance the novel or was it merely for show?) After the Charlotte Roche Wetlands debacle, is modern literature becoming a breeding ground for ‘warts and all’ style over substance?

On paper, the characters and plot of Wildlife are so deliberately off the wall that they are easy to dismiss as the elaborate ramblings of a brilliant-yet-drug-addled student. It boils down to five trendy young things who realise that they are pioneers of a revolutionary new Wild World whether they like it or not. Nevertheless, the players are merely the careering vehicle, the runaway train that explodes to reveal Stretch’s anti-manifesto for successful living. One is even named ‘Life’ (or ‘Lie’ for short) which makes for an ironic paradox.

In musing on the human condition (survival of the fittest, robotics, the dominance of technology over humanity,) and the fixations of life as a 21st century being (eg events, sex, self-image, music), Stretch urges the reader to consider whether the nurturing persons among us are relevant or necessary to the functioning of society; whether love and its traditional associations have become extinct. Of the five protagonists, Joe is the only character who is a ‘carer’ in the truest sense: capable of loving and protecting others. Whereas Anka, Life, Janek and Roger are searching for advancement, pleasure and success; Joe is the only character that wants to regress and metamorphose into a puffin. 

Stretch has a penchant for exploring societal extremes and following them to the most depressing conclusion. Anka, a self confessed ‘skeleton with big tits’ becomes the inspirational poster girl for the Wild World, where the leaders ‘want to re-brand eating disorders’. Modern society accepts that glossy magazines will obsess over size zero diets, making Stretch’s assertions disturbingly accurate; ’…the anorexic is not just an exciting and entertaining mentally ill young woman, but increasingly she has become a person to look up to, aspire to and find attractive.’

Similarly, Roger’s peers consider him akin to a prophet for his continuous no-holds-barred blog and fondness for solitary confinement. His life has been so reduced to mere words that he ‘… can no longer tell the difference between really breathing and describing breath.’ Roger has become reliant upon the validation of complete strangers, so much so that he begins to feed on it, failing to notice that he has neither eaten nor drunk for days. ‘Am I alive or am I describing being alive? Both. Tell me, are you reading this? If you are then comment on it…Comment on me.’

Roger and Anka are visions of the future, albeit excessive ones. It’s pointless denying that the online world is taking over; the internet allows us to stay in contact with our ‘life bubble’ from pretty much anywhere in the world. Humans can swallow down all the cultural and social nutrition they need in quick and easy bite-sized morsels, care of their favourite websites. Natural progression dictates that all that is left to do online is live – to engage in physical activities defined by their need for actual contact. A frightening prospect if ever there was one.

Similarly, the image of love described in ‘Wildlife’ is of something outdated, irrelevant. The focus is on physical pleasure and instantaneous gratification, most commonly associated with masturbation and sex.  Stretch’s presentation of intercourse lacks the sensuality and emotion that characterise it as a pleasurable activity. We demand everything in the public world to be fast and efficient, if love were reduced to this, it would boil down to no frills pro-reation at best, virtual intercourse at the worst.

Life enjoys the ‘impressive, well-programmed, unnatural beauty of Wow Bang’, (a virtual world where men adorn themselves with phalluses and it’s possible to kill or rape your fellow man without fear of reprisal). Life has an affinity for the clinical nature of virtual reality, leading us to question whether she is truly heartless or just emotionally vacant. Life is described throughout the novel as though she were the fulfilment of every man’s fantasy – a beautiful woman who enjoys sex but won’t complicate it by getting emotionally involved.

All the time we are encouraged to remember that despite leading a eventful life online, in reality she is ‘in some dimly lit room in the real world…sitting on a real chair, staring at a screen…But she sees through that reality and so should we.’ By creating Life, ‘a happiness machine’ seduced by the effortlessness of a world characterised by the lazy convenience to which we have all become accustomed, Stretch has hit upon the provocative notion that there may be nothing left to live for.

‘When robots become cool and totally convincing, how and why will humans motivate ourselves to go on living?’

Life should be renamed McLife, a homogenised version of what we experience on a daily basis. Her ultimate goal is to seek ‘a way of life that was…smiles without brains, love without odour and sex without stains’.

It’s appalling to think that anyone would prefer to live in a world without smells and mess. Countless generations have been brought up to believe in that Lady Justice has weighed the scales evenly for us, that karma is on our side, and any bad moments in life make the good moments even better. Stretch sculpts the current generation into the antagonists of modern life: the young cynics who are will not be fooled by the idea of retribution and cosmic order; who want to do what they want, regardless of the consequences.

There is a common consciousness growing among young people; a loss of faith in traditional values that buckle under the weight of life’s harsh realities. In a similar way to the plight of Japanese youth, in Britain many twentysomethings feel that, like the characters in Wildlife, society has failed them. The use of the phrase ‘quarter life crisis’ is becoming worryingly common. Stretch’s metaphor for the unfulfilling life of a young adult describes an alarming truth, a bitter pill that you choke on rather than swallow, as ‘…you show off the gruesome exit wound left behind by your youth.’

As children of the 1980s we were promised the world, a booming economy, a university education and jobs for all. We celebrated in our teens and early twenties and graduated into a world where we were redundant before we even started. Joe Stretch is one of the lucky ones, striking enough to sign a publishing deal and make an income from his talents. Many of his contemporaries are making coffee, working in offices, denying their dreams.

Wildlife seems to suggest that current evolutionary practice will be based on survival of the most interesting:

‘Youth culture is, broadly speaking, our final attempt to justify out species, to keep it from extinction.’

It is almost an apology, to succeed in this world, one must stand out, hold people’s attention and go out with a bang, just as Joe Stretch is doing with this novel.  The only hope for future creatives is to see Stretch’s over-arching metaphor and start the evolutionary process for themselves.

Perhaps ultimately my concern is that Joe Stretch’s brand of harsh realism is to become the norm. Amid the insane imagery of babies drinking black milk and vein bracelets, Stretch makes a startlingly accurate point. What are the implications of the deconstruction of the modern world? Where can we go from here? Be afraid, be very afraid. I leave you with the voice of a new generation: ‘No tactics. No point to this. Run wild.’