We are, of course, beyond grateful that someone out there has seen fit to provide indelible evidence demonstrating just how malleable Mr. Lipsyte is in a supine position. Forget prose, plot, character, exposition, and a dependable collection of laughs. Hero worship is, after all, the m.o. behind any breakthrough novel.
These days, Mr. Lipsyte is more popular than Jesus. He is so hot that Bret Easton Ellis and Jay McInerney are now leaving long voicemails on Mr. Lipsyte’s machine, wondering if Stolid Sam might have any “leftover groupies” that might remind them of the glory days. Mr. Lipsyte, to his considerable credit, has vowed that he won’t be reduced to lecturing about wine in ten years. To which we offer him considerable props. Nor will he be languishing in Hollywood banging out novels revisiting the same territory explored in Home Land.
While this is the kind of tricky situation that might tarnish a one-trick pony, in Mr. Lipsyte’s case, it has worked out quite well. Because Mr. Lipsyte also has a short story collection to back up his streetcred.
So we’re exceedingly grateful to everyone promoting the current efforts. We were beginning to think that we were the only ones out here who read Home Land with a roll of toilet paper within arm’s reach. Splashy debut novels often have that effect on us. We reacted the exact same way when reading Revolutionary Road and Tender is the Night. In Mr. Lipsyte’s case, as we read the book, we laughed like a dormouse pondering the ineffectual cheese traps devised by pesky homo sapiens. Home Land: funny shit, yo. Pass it on. Pay it forward.
But (with all due respect, of course) wait for Novel #2 before declaring Sam the voice of a new generation. That’s all we have to say on the matter.
Incidentally, we’re back. The indignant Indians have fled the coop. We have a redesign in the works. We could offer a lengthy tale about our momentary bout with the flu and the fact that our computer died, but we’re just damn happy to be alive and well. Hoping you are the same.
[UPDATE: As Maud was kind enough to point out, Home Land is Novel #2. To prevent any future mishaps, we've enrolled in a six-week counting class that starts next week, discovered in our local extended education catalog.]
The Call by Yannick Murphy: The always interesting author of Here They Come and Signed, Mata Hari returns with a novel that whips up a worldview from a rather quirky set of limitations: namely, the call logs that a veterinarian maintains as his son is unexpectedly put into a coma and an unforgiving economy denies him work. What emerges is a surprisingly optimistic, often funny, and very moving account on how one family uses acceptance and forgiveness as a way to atone for hard knocks. (
Birds of Paradise by Diana Abu-Jaber: Forget Franzen and Eugenides. If you're looking for a social novel that counts, Diana Abu-Jaber is the author you're looking for. Building from the free-form exploration of consciousness and identity in Crescent and the gripping procedural structure of Origin, Abu-Jaber's latest novel is her finest, equally fluent with gutterpunk culture and smarmy real estate men. It has been suggested by The Washington Post's Ron Charles that you will likely gain some pounds while reading this novel. This is certainly true. Abu-Jaber's description of food is so precise that it often made me want to do more cooking. But I very much admired the way in which Abu-Jaber presents all her characters as unwitting victims of rough capitalism, which permits them some dignity even as they perform terrible acts.
The Last of the Live Nude Girls by Sheila McClear: This memoir isn't so much about the decline of the Times Square peepshow, as it is about one young woman's efforts to pull herself up by by her bootstraps when presented with few economic options. Filled with self-introspective candor and a quiet dignity, McClear's story is one that might befall any of us in these volatile times. While McClear does get back on her feet, her book leads one contemplating the terrible fates of other young women now moving to New York and falling into deadlier vocations. (
Welcome back Ed! I’m happy see that you survived the invasion (and the flu).
It’s good to have you back! Indomitable. Simply indomitable.
On behalf of the New Hampshire Ed Champion Fan Club and Drum and Bugle Corp we are pleased that the long cold winter nights must no longer be filled with pop cultural detritus that is not even a pale shadow of Our Master’s Voice (that’s right, think of us as the hound in the RCA trademark) and that our fervent and febrile ululating to a Higher Power has resulted in, well, results.
Yes, indeed.
hoorah back!
Great to see Return of the Reluctant back up!
Quick thing: “Home Land” is Lipsyte’s second novel. The first was “The Subject Steve” (http://www.powells.com/cgi-bin/biblio?inkey=1-0767909178-3), which I’ve yet to read, although I did enjoy his short story collection.
Yay! See, I told you there was a Santa Claus!
Hi, Ed. I hope your stay in the basement didn’t leave you with bright white pupils and a constant trembling of the hands.
So glad to see you back!!
YAY!!! That’s really all there is to say.