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A review by maedo
House of Holes by Nicholson Baker
2.0
You know how there are certain writers -- Ian McEwan, Julian Barnes, Peter Carey-types -- who are such darlings of the literary world that we joke that they could probably write anything and be lauded by The New York Times?
This is Nicholson Baker writing that "anything" book, trying that experiment.
There is a blurb on the back of House of Holes from Charles McGrath, of The New York Times Magazine, that reads: "When he is not writing about sex (and also when he is), Baker is one of the most beautiful, original, ingenious prose stylists to have come along in decades."
And here is an excerpt of beautiful writing from this book: "He breathed little panting breaths, his hips rocking as he flummoxed his beatstick."
OK. I get that this is satire of our oversexed culture. I get that it is super nasty and lewd and full of crazy kinks, because that's how people are under our polite societal veneer, and that is OK. But..."beautiful"?
This is a book that has multiple instances of Bad Sex Award quality writing. In fact, there is probably one passage every fifteen pages that is deserving of such nomination. I respect Baker really shooting for the stars of ludicrousness (pun totally intended). But I don't have much love for seeing it called "beautiful." A writer with no reputation producing the same sort of material would almost certainly get laughed off the page. I think next year Gary Shteyngart should write an entire book about scat fetish and see what happens; it'll probably be nominated for the National Book Award.
Two stars because even though I sort of like what Baker was trying to do here, the long, detailed, purposely vulgar and purple descriptions of sex are boring. I would have liked to see more world-building and less, uh, play-by-play, because the House of Holes sexual theme park is a great idea.
This is Nicholson Baker writing that "anything" book, trying that experiment.
There is a blurb on the back of House of Holes from Charles McGrath, of The New York Times Magazine, that reads: "When he is not writing about sex (and also when he is), Baker is one of the most beautiful, original, ingenious prose stylists to have come along in decades."
And here is an excerpt of beautiful writing from this book: "He breathed little panting breaths, his hips rocking as he flummoxed his beatstick."
OK. I get that this is satire of our oversexed culture. I get that it is super nasty and lewd and full of crazy kinks, because that's how people are under our polite societal veneer, and that is OK. But..."beautiful"?
This is a book that has multiple instances of Bad Sex Award quality writing. In fact, there is probably one passage every fifteen pages that is deserving of such nomination. I respect Baker really shooting for the stars of ludicrousness (pun totally intended). But I don't have much love for seeing it called "beautiful." A writer with no reputation producing the same sort of material would almost certainly get laughed off the page. I think next year Gary Shteyngart should write an entire book about scat fetish and see what happens; it'll probably be nominated for the National Book Award.
Two stars because even though I sort of like what Baker was trying to do here, the long, detailed, purposely vulgar and purple descriptions of sex are boring. I would have liked to see more world-building and less, uh, play-by-play, because the House of Holes sexual theme park is a great idea.