Joining the Cult: Pure Cosmos Club by Matthew Binder

Written by Joseph Edwin Haeger

When I first picked up Matthew Binder’s new novel Pure Cosmos Club, I noticed the blurb that refers to him as the “American Murakami.” That’s quite the claim to bestow upon someone because it immediately raises expectations. After I got into this novel the more the comparison made sense — and another kindred writer came to mind: Dave Eggers. On the Venn diagram of Murakami and Eggers, there’s an overlap that focuses on their ability to ground the absurd. Both authors employ fantastical elements while embodying a skill that allows readers to never question the feasibility of the events within the world they’ve constructed. How do they do it? Hell if I know, but I’ll tell you who probably does: Matthew Binder. This is exactly what he’s able to do in Pure Cosmos Club and like reading Murakami and Eggers — it’s magic.

Pure Cosmos Club opens as Paul’s new ex-girlfriend sends two men into their apartment to collect her things. We quickly learn Paul lost his office job, even though he thought he was doing an adequate job, and now that he’s single again, there’s nothing stopping him from throwing his whole self into his creative pursuits. As he starts slowly breaking into the art scene, he meets Orsi and falls in love. She’s gorgeous, smart, and after spending just one night with her, he is smitten. He then discovers she’s married to James, a charismatic New Age guru and leader of the secretive could-be-a-cult, the Pure Cosmos Club. Even though she’s married, it doesn’t deter Paul from loving her completely, meaning he’ll put himself in close proximity to her even if that means spending time with her husband as well. Eventually, James convinces Paul to join the “Pure Cosmos Club” and his life starts spiraling.

And before I forget, I should mention the heart and soul of this book: Paul’s anthropomorphized dog Blanche who seems to have the clearest view of everything as it unfolds. Follow her lead and you’re bound to come out on top.

At the beginning of Pure Cosmos Club, it felt like the story meandered a bit. To be clear, this isn’t a criticism because I love a wandering novel — I think it gives a deeper look into the characters and what motivates them. Based on the first fifty or so pages, I strapped myself in for a story of Paul bouncing from art openings to parties at wealthy people’s homes to trying to get some quiche for Blanche (her favorite food). Then, a little over halfway, the pieces started to fall into place.

This is not a book that meanders, as it turns out. Binder has meticulously plotted this book where everything happens for a reason. The slapstick setups weren’t just for laughs because they led to something larger. And because of this, even those small moments meant something substantial. It goes beyond someone relaying funny stories. It’s why Binder is a contemporary of Murakami and Eggers. He’s telling a funny little romp about a failing artist (who’s an incredible artist, turns out!) and we’re none the wiser that he’s setting down the tracks for a story he’s expertly architected, and that’s the kind of Kansas City Shuffle you can expect from those guys (and now, I know to expect it from Matthew Binder).

There are certain things that are difficult to write about and — now that I’m thinking about it — it’s those stereotypical “cool” things that are the hardest to pull off. Sure, you can write about them, but more often than not, it makes the cool thing sound so incredibly uncool. There’s an authenticity that’s hard to capture on the page and seemingly normal conversations like, “We need to practice for the show coming up” sound artificial and dumb. It sounds like an undercover cop trying to fit in. That’s why I’m skeptical about picking up books about bands, musicians, artists, or other things like that. But when you see someone pull it off, it looks effortless. The way Binder writes about the art world and the process of making art allows us, as the reader, to open the door and walk in. There’s a sincerity that guides us without being too self-aware. The process in which Paul makes art isn’t too precious and the art world is viewed with equal parts disdain and fascination. A lot of this comes from Paul’s perspective, which is perfect because Binder has made him feel like a very real person, even if his life reads like a fantasy. Paul’s ambitions and motivations are true to his character and because we inherently trust his perspective, it’s easy to slip into the art world surrounding him. Again, this all looks like it’s so simply done, but having tried to write a great rock n’ roll book (ugh, I can’t even talk about it without rolling my eyes), I can confidently say it’s a friggin’ hard thing to do.

Pure Cosmos Club is about a lot. We see how art influences people and the oftentimes frustrating relationship it has with money and capitalism. Then, we see the effects of groupthink and how easily people can gradually slip into cult-like behavior. These are heavy topics, and it’d be easy to get bogged down and crumble under the weight of exploring any one of these ideas or themes, but Binder holds a strong foundation together while also delivering something gut-bustlingly funny. This is a hilarious book, and I don’t want anyone to miss that fact. Sure, we’re going into the depths of some dark thoughts, but overall, this book feels light-hearted and funny because it is. I’m impressed by how well Binder holds these two, seemingly contradicting styles, at the same time with ease. As I turned the last page, I found myself wondering, How’d he do that? again and again and again.

Pure Cosmos Club

By Matthew Binder

Published by Stalking Horse Press

252pgs, 5.50 x 8.50

Paperback: 978-1736912812 | May 2023 | $19.99

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Joseph Edwin Haeger is the author of the experimental memoir Learn to Swim (University of Hell Press, 2015) and the forthcoming fiction novella, Bardo (Thirty West Publishing, 2023.) He writes fiction, essays, poetry, and screenplays. As a litmus test, he tells people his favorite movie is Face/Off, but there’s a part of him that’s afraid it’s true. He lives in the Inland PNW.