Jennifer Government: A Novel
Read Jennifer Government: A Novel Online
Authors: Max Barry
Jennifer Government
“Barry capitalizes on the strengths of the characters and ends up creating a brilliant finale to a clever story. …
Jennifer Government
is delightful.”
—
USA Today
“Weird [and] hilarious….A searing look at the perils of deregulation and unfettered trade, this book tells a thoroughly modern tale in the tradition of George Orwell and Aldous Huxley.”
—
Book
“Extremely funny. …Barry is a smart writer with a Cassandra’s gift for dark-edged prognostication.”
—Time
“Very cool … take[s] us to wonderfully dark places…. Outrageous.”
—
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
“A darkly hilarious cautionary tale.”
—The San Diego Union-Tribune
“A riotous parody … a satirical and skewed pro-government look at a future where power has shifted from governments to businesses, and shows, without didacticism or preaching, the human costs of a system where everything—including murder—is for sale.”
—BookPage
“A narcoticizing and very funny satire.”
—
Esquire
“The ideas, and the boldly stated assertions …keep the book a page turner.”
—The
Sunday Oregonian
“Catch-22
by way of
The Matrix.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Barry’s tongue-in-cheek prose and cleverly detailed new world keep the pages turning.”
—The Houston Chronicle
“[Barry’s] send-up of ‘capitalizm’ has some ingenious touches….A breezy, stylish read.”
—
Publishers Weekly
“Deftly humorous…. As entertaining as it is thought-provoking.”
—
The Seattle Times
Jennifer Government
Max Barry is an Australian, for which he apologizes. He is the author of the cult hit
Syrup
, although he spelled his name “Maxx” for that novel, “because it seemed like a funny joke about marketing, and I failed to realize everyone would assume I was a pretentious asshole.” He was born on March 18, 1973, and lives in Melbourne, Australia, where he writes full-time, the advantage being that he can do it while wearing boxer shorts.
Also by Max Barry
Syrup
For Charles Thiesen
Who really, really wanted me to call it “Capitalizm”
W
ith money we will get men, Caesar said, and with men we will get money.
THOMAS JEFFERSON, 1784
…
a
wise and frugal government, which shall restrain men from injuring one another, which shall leave them otherwise free to regulate their own pursuits of industry and improvement, and shall not take from the mouth of labor the bread it has earned. This is the sum of good government.
THOMAS JEFFERSON, 1801
There are a lot of real company names and trademarks in this book, most in situations you are unlikely to see on the covers of any annual reports. That’s because this is a novel, and the things that happen in it aren’t true. This may seem obvious enough to you, but some people (whom we shall call “lawyers”) get very uptight when you describe large corporations masterminding murders. So let’s be clear: this is a work of fiction. The actions depicted are not real nor based on real events. Any resemblance to actual people is coincidental. And the use of real company and product names is for literary effect only and definitely without permission.
1Nike
Hack first heard about Jennifer Government at the water-cooler. He was only there because the one on his floor was out; Legal was going to come down on Nature’s Springs like a ton of shit, you could bet on that. Hack was a Merchandise Distribution Officer. This meant when Nike made up a bunch of posters, or caps, or beach towels, Hack had to send them to the right place. Also, if someone called up complaining about missing posters, or caps, or beach towels, Hack had to take the call. It wasn’t as exciting as it used to be.
“It’s a
calamity,”
a man at the watercooler said. “Four days away from launch and Jennifer Government’s all over my ass.”
“Jee-sus,” his companion said. “That’s gotta suck.”
“It means we have to move fast.” He looked at Hack, who was filling his cup. “Hi there.”
Hack looked up. They were smiling at him as if he was an equal—but of course, Hack was on the wrong floor. They didn’t know he was just a Merc Officer. “Hi.”
“Haven’t seen you around before,” the
calamity
guy said. “You new?”
“No. I work in Merc.”
“Oh.” His nose wrinkled.
“Our cooler’s out,” Hack said. He turned away quickly. “Hey, wait up,” the suit said. “You ever do any marketing work?”
“Uh,” he said, not sure if this was a joke. “No.”
The suits looked at each other. The
calamity
guy shrugged. Then they stuck out their hands. “I’m John Nike, Guerrilla Marketing Operative, New Products.”
“And I’m John Nike, Guerrilla Marketing Vice-President, New Products,” the other suit said.
“Hack Nike,” Hack said, shaking.
“Hack, I’m empowered to make midrange labor-contracting decisions,” Vice-President John said. “You interested in some work?”
“Some…” He felt his throat thicken. “Marketing work?”
“On a case-by-case basis, of course,” the other John said. Hack started to cry.
“
T
here,” a John said, handing him a handkerchief. “You feel better?”
Hack nodded, shamed. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Vice-President John said. “Career change can be very stressful. I read that somewhere.”
“Here’s the paperwork.” The other John handed him a pen and a sheaf of papers. The first page said CONTRACT TO PERFORM SERVICE, and the others were in type too small to read.
Hack hesitated. “You want me to sign this now?”
“It’s nothing to worry about. Just the usual noncompetes and nondisclosure agreements.”
“Yeah, but…”Companies were getting a lot tougher on labor contracts these days; Hack had heard stories. At Adidas, if you quit your job and your replacement wasn’t as competent, they sued you for lost profits.
“Hack, we need someone who can make snap decisions. A fast mover.”
“Someone who can get things done. With a minimum of fucking around.”
“If that’s not your style, well… let’s forget we spoke. No
harm done. You stick to Merchandising.” Vice-President John reached for the contract.
“I can sign it now,” Hack said, tightening his grip.
“It’s totally up to you,” the other John said. He took the chair beside Hack, crossed his legs, and rested his hands at the juncture, smiling. Both Johns had good smiles, Hack noticed. He guessed everyone in marketing did. They had pretty similar faces, too. “Just at the bottom there.”
Hack signed.
“Also there,” the other John said. “And on the next page… and one there. And there.”
“Glad to have you on board, Hack.” Vice-President John took the contract, opened a drawer, and dropped it inside. “Now. What do you know about Nike Mercurys?”
Hack blinked. “They’re our latest product. I haven’t actually seen a pair, but… I heard they’re great.”
The Johns smiled. “We started selling Mercurys six months ago. You know how many pairs we’ve shifted since then?”
Hack shook his head. They cost thousands of dollars a pair, but that wouldn’t stop people from buying them. They were the hottest sneakers in the world. “A million?”
“Two hundred.”
“Two hundred million?”
“No. Two hundred pairs.”
“John here,” the other John said, “pioneered the concept of marketing by refusing to sell any products. It drives the market
insane.”
