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A review by modern_analog
The Epicure's Lament by Kate Christensen
5.0
Admitted curmudgeon and self-imposed shut in, Hugo Whittier is hilariously deplorable in his pessimistic and blatantly honest assessment of the world and people around him. He cares about just 3 things: cigarettes, food and sex, but not always in that order. Outside those transient pleasures, he is content to be alone, reading and writing and staring out the window of his dilapidated childhood home, as he endures the last of his life before succumbing to a preventable terminal illness.
Of course, what he claims to want most of all, solitude, is the only thing that continues to evade him. His brother's marriage on the rocks, Hugo reluctantly acquires his sibling as a housemate, and is continually irked that he can't even be bothered to put the dishes back in their appropriate cupboards. Then Hugo's long estranged wife and alleged daughter show up on his doorstep under the guise of getting reacquainted with him after many years apart. Finally, a long forgotten gay uncle returns to his childhood home to live out the remainder of his life, taking Hugo's favorite room upon arrival.
While attempting to wait out these intrusions, Hugo busies himself with shit stirring for his own amusement. He meddles in his brother's marital problems, has a lustful tryst with a married acquaintance, befriends a seedy hitman who was hired to kill him years ago, and continually hits on the possibly underage cashier who sells him his cigarettes. He's miserable and deplorable and he doesn't pretend not to be. His self aware honesty is somehow charming and he doesn't suffer fools in a way that is admirable. In his own words, "I need no prompting or reminders to fuel my self-loathing; ongoing present circumstances serve to keep it blazing and alight." Hugo is the kind of character you sort of fall in love with in spite of yourself, and he is not soon forgotten.
Of course, what he claims to want most of all, solitude, is the only thing that continues to evade him. His brother's marriage on the rocks, Hugo reluctantly acquires his sibling as a housemate, and is continually irked that he can't even be bothered to put the dishes back in their appropriate cupboards. Then Hugo's long estranged wife and alleged daughter show up on his doorstep under the guise of getting reacquainted with him after many years apart. Finally, a long forgotten gay uncle returns to his childhood home to live out the remainder of his life, taking Hugo's favorite room upon arrival.
While attempting to wait out these intrusions, Hugo busies himself with shit stirring for his own amusement. He meddles in his brother's marital problems, has a lustful tryst with a married acquaintance, befriends a seedy hitman who was hired to kill him years ago, and continually hits on the possibly underage cashier who sells him his cigarettes. He's miserable and deplorable and he doesn't pretend not to be. His self aware honesty is somehow charming and he doesn't suffer fools in a way that is admirable. In his own words, "I need no prompting or reminders to fuel my self-loathing; ongoing present circumstances serve to keep it blazing and alight." Hugo is the kind of character you sort of fall in love with in spite of yourself, and he is not soon forgotten.