For the past week or so, I’ve been rereading
Generation X by Douglas Coupland. I first picked it up years ago, and I’ve always remembered it as a sharp, funny, and strangely moving portrait of a very specific cultural moment. But this time around, I wanted to see if it still held up, and honestly, it’s just as brilliant as I remembered.
Yes, it’s called Generation X, but its wit, originality, and storytelling cut across generational lines. Coupland coined a term and captured a mood, a sense of drift, irony, and uncertainty, that feels just as relevant today, even if the cultural backdrop has shifted. The book manages to be both a time capsule and eerily prescient.
