Home Land, by Sam Lipsyte

Well, kitties, this was a strange one. Written in the form of letters to update the high school alumni newsletter, this was another ragingly angry, masterfully written rant about American Life Now. It was fantastic, in its own way, but it was no The Ask, Lipsyte's latest (and highly praised) novel. You can see the writer sharpening his claws here, but in The Ask, he doesn't need the kind of Oliver Stone-y (Oliver Stone-r?) machinations he uses in this book, he just feeds on the raw meat of today. In this one you see a little too much of the excercise that made the giant.

The Ask, by Sam Lipsyte

Fantastic, blistering, astonishingly good book. Milo Burke, a depressed fundraiser for a NYC college has just been let go (tough economy, etc), when an old college friend of his own pops up with millions of dollars, the promise to save Milo's crumbling life by providing Milo with the ultimate "ask", and favors to demand that challenge Milo's integrity and sanity. This was an amazing novel, but wildly, tremendously and exhaustingly depressing. Is that enough adjectives? Should there be more?

I grow old … I grow old …
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

(apologies to T.S. Eliot.)