Though the novel’s opening line, “Call me Linda” (3), immediately frames the narrative as a contemporary parallel to Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick, Linda is framed as being more akin to Melville’s Captain Ahab than his narrator, Ishmael. Both Ahab and Linda are consumed by the hunt for their respective “white whales.” In Linda’s case, her existence is singularly focused on her desire for a “marriage to a plane” (3), a union she believes can only be consummated in a fatal crash. This literary framing elevates Linda’s objectum sexuality from a mere psychological condition to an epic, potentially tragic quest. Her fixation is presented as a deep search for destiny, giving her a sense of purpose in a world she otherwise finds deeply alienating. By aligning Linda with one of literature’s most iconic obsessives, the narrative establishes her single-mindedness as both the core of her identity and a potential source of her own destruction.

The narrative grounds Linda’s surreal desires in a formative event: Linda’s sexual awakening aboard a turbulent flight at age 13. Experiencing her first orgasm during a moment of sublime terror fuses erotic pleasure with the prospect of a fiery death, cementing this specific fantasy as her ultimate destiny. The exposition of her backstory also reveals the important detail that Linda’s relationship with airplanes is partly tied to her relationship with her late father, described as the only person who could appreciate her interest in airplanes. This informs her perception of airplanes as being fundamentally “male,” a way of bringing Linda back to the only relationship in her life where she could feel safe and understood. The aircraft from the formative flight introduces N92823, the symbolic airplane that becomes Linda’s “first love” (19) and the archetype against which all subsequent planes are judged. This flashback gives her desire a specific origin, rooting it in a physical and emotional experience rather than an abstract whim. For Linda, the memory is proof that her connection to planes is real and predestined, a conviction that shapes her entire worldview and justifies her extreme quest for union.

Linda’s perspectives on destiny and a universal sense of purpose are juxtaposed against the Vision Board Brunch, which satirizes a specific brand of contemporary wellness culture while exploring its limitations. At the gathering, Karina’s friends display boards with conventional, socially acceptable goals like career advancement, family planning, and self-care. This ritual is a form of Manifestation as Toxic Positivity, a worldview that insists all desires can be achieved through positive thinking and aesthetic arrangement, thereby ignoring systemic barriers and personal complexities. The symbol of Vision Boards is central here; the boards themselves are physical objects representing the gap between one’s internal world and one’s public performance of ambition. Linda’s participation is likewise a performance; her board, filled with planes and pilots, is a coded message that she must translate into a more palatable goal: marrying a pilot. The brunch concludes with the women joining hands to recite a mantra, an ironic moment given that Linda’s “best version” involves a violent, transcendental death that is utterly impossible to share within this social context. The scene critiques a culture that champions authenticity but only accepts a narrow, sanitized version of it.

Folk further qualifies the alienating nature of Linda’s world through her work and living situation. Linda’s grim work at Acuity, where she is the “top-performing mod” (8) in the “Hate & Harassment” vertical, provides a contrasting backdrop for her fantastical inner life. Her job requires her to immerse herself in the most toxic forms of human interaction, “scrubbing comment threads of hate speech and death threats” (8) for $20 an hour. This emotionally draining work is contrasted with the sanitized corporate environment, which offers superficial perks like a nine-minute wellness break and a replenished stash of snacks. This juxtaposition highlights the theme of The Psychological Toll of Hidden Digital Labor, exposing the human cost of maintaining a palatable online world. Linda’s pride in her efficiency at this dehumanizing task suggests a cultivated emotional detachment, which in turn fuels her desperate longing for a more authentic and overwhelming form of connection. Her profession places her at the center of modern isolation; she moderates human relationships without ever truly participating in them, an experience that reinforces The Alienating Nature of Modern Life. Her desire for a spectacular, all-consuming union with an airplane thus becomes a radical alternative to the disembodied, fragmented, and abusive interactions that constitute her daily reality.