Bill Bryson’s “Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid” is a rollicking read

David Sedaris cracks me up. Carl Hiaasen’s Floridian farces are each an entertaining hoot. And Bill Bryson is a surefire spirits-lifter, whether he’s summarizing the secrets of the universe in A Short History of Nearly Everything or expanding his own galaxy of personal anecdotes in The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid: A Memoir. And did my spirits ever need lifting? I’d just finished the beautiful but bleak The Road (read my review), so I welcomed the promise of a bit of mirth. And Bryson’s Thunderbolt Kid delivered more laughter and enjoyment than any mere mortal should be capable of.

Perhaps Bryson is superhuman. That’s the premise of Thunderbolt Kid, in which the author details growing up in Middle America in the 1950s—a seemingly idyllic place and halcyon time. However, while Bryson’s childhood era was practically perfect in every way, it wasn’t all comic-book thrills and post-war prosperity. Surrounded by threats ranging from an increasingly chilly Cold War and ever-expanding culinary uses for Jell-O, young Billy Bryson discovered his own superhero powers and “Thunderbolt Kid” identity after finding a mysterious, lightning-emblazoned jersey in his family’s basement.

This “Thunderbolt Kid” schtick could be kryptonite to a truly super childhood memoir, resulting in overwrought symbolism, saccharin sentimentality, and just-plain-annoying plotting. But Bryson makes it work, largely because he doesn’t play the superhero-kid card very often. Instead, he builds the story of his childhood around his distinctive wit and wry humor, presenting scene after entertaining scene of his life as an Iowa boy, with only occasional flashes of the Thunderbolt Kid character. This restraint gives Thunderbolt Kid a distinctive energy without overwhelming readers with gimmick. And the result is the most hilarious and winning memoir since David Sedaris’s Me Talk Pretty One Day.