Jack Barnes is just another victim of a zombie apocalypse, or maybe not. Even if he shuffles like a zombie, moans inarticulately like a zombie, and wants to eat brains like a zombie, Jack still thinks like he did when he was alive. Unfortunately, given he was an English lit professor, he thinks in overwrought terms, thinking of himself as a spokesperson for his kind, when he's not comparing his situation to popular culture, which he tends to sneer at.
Barnes travels to Chicago, with the idea of meeting Howard Stein, credited as the guy who created the virus that caused all this. Surely his creator will recognize how monumental a zombie who can think and write is! In what he surely sees as a promising development, Jack encounters other zombies who retained different skills, forming a makeshift family of sorts. Joan, a nurse who's retained those instincts and can sew zombies up as their bodies degrade. Guts is a fast zombie. Ros (short for Rosencrantz, as Jack dubbed him) can speak.
(Although the book is fairly inconsistent about what zombies are capable of in general. Even though Jack remembers how to start a car, he can't make his body do it. Neither can Ros. But Jack and another zombie figure out how to start and sail a ship later on, and the group figures out how to put on waterproof gear before hiding in the bottom of Lake Michigan.)
I imagine you need a character with Jack's inflated sense of self-importance to drive the script. A guy who alternately thinks of himself as a Moses, or a civil rights leader, or a new Adam when he brings along a pregnant woman he bit. I can't imagine any of the others, if they had been the one to retain that level of cognition, deciding the thing to do is find the guy who created the virus and convince him the undead are some new race that needs to be accorded equal rights. Maybe Ros or Joan would try to find Stein and see if he had a cure (other than a bullet in the head), but I doubt it.
So Jack's personality is essential to how things play out, the urge to make some great mark, to leave a record. Hence his memoir. That said, reading his delusions of grandeur can get tedious. I rolled my eyes a few times, thinking this guy needed to get over himself. Maybe it's supposed to be funny, his earnest writing about how proud he feels of Guts, scampering off to bite someone's ankle, or discussing how the undead are really the next evolutionary step, then rambling about brains for a paragraph.
Occasionally he sees the way his body is decaying and he can't bear to look, or he thinks about his wife (who he ate) and misses her deeply. Maybe it's meant to be him making the best of his situation. He got bit, he turned, nothing he can do about that. So, put a positive spin on it. The cold doesn't bother him! He doesn't need to breathe! Zombies could be a net positive for the planet, helping dispose of the people nobody wants around!
'"You shot my friend," Ros gurgled.
Annabelle looked up. "Dude, you can't talk," she said.
"Says who?" Ros said. Annabelle looked at me. I shrugged my shoulders and attempted a grin. A dollop of my cheek fell off at the dimple. Joan would have to repair that when we got back.'
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