Lauren, my Secret-Internet-Girlfriend, Book-Recommender, and Brain-Twin strikes again!! She threw this title at me along with one totally-out-of-context line:
‘Consuma Cultcha!’ I shouted, ‘You done infantalasized me!!’
Friends, I died laughing that day (and you can die too, for all I care [laughing, that is]), and then I put it on the top of my library queue despite all the other books that are hemming and hawing about being due yesterday.
H’ANYvays, Sam Lipsyte is another one of those things I figure everyone’s been keeping from me. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, SAM, with your pointy, aggressive hilarity that takes my breath away (sometimes with its rapidity and sometimes because…gross)? Jeffrey Eugenides likes you, and I will count that in your favor. Chuck Palahniuk likes you, and I will not hold that against you. Lots of other people like you, too, but I don’t recognize their names.
Home Land begins as a series of high-school alumni newsletter updates by all around ne’er-do-well, Lewis ‘Teabag’ Miner. He is everything you hope you aren’t when your reunion rolls around – all jobless and reminiscey and a bit greasy behind the ears. As the novel wears on, Miner gets less Hey alumni! and more So the other day… and you kind of forget that you’re reading alleged updates (which, incidentally, never get published because they’re a bit drrrrrrty) and fall into this weird spiral of narrative about Those Who Do Not Pan Out.
And Lipsyte goes on all mischevious and quirky and fun, and then there are these moments of such sharp honesty that its as if you were having a quiet chat with my mum (who is a sweet lady), and she suddenly reached out and open-handed slapped you. It’s that startling.
THIS BOOK IS NOT FOR EVERYONE! There is filth. But there is also fun, and I can’t think of a synonym for ‘poignancy’ that starts with ‘f” (feelingness?) but there’s that, too.