From Publishers Weekly
Despite a contrived plot and frequent rhetorical indulgences (the author never met a dream sequence he didn't like), Tusset's debut, a bestseller in Europe, still manages to be engaging and occasionally even uproarious. The novel follows the exploits of Pablo Miralles, heir to the Miralles family fortune, as he gets swept up (between naps, drinks and trips to brothels) in a convoluted plan to find his older brother, Sebastian, who has mysteriously disappeared. Unlike the über-hardworking, spit-and-polished Sebastian, Pablo is content to cash his inheritance checks, smoke joints and entertain himself, when not watching TV, by working out a theory of "Invented Reality" online. The plot ambles along as Pablo tries harder to empty Sebastian's bank account than he does to find him. The explanations Pablo offers for not involving the police must simply be accepted, as must the ending, wherein Tusset tries to wrap up the plot in two chapters involving a turgid chase sequence and some ponderous exposition. But the book is a pleasure precisely because it so brazenly sloughs off responsibilities to pacing, plot or emotional resonance. Rarely has such a winning story been built out of such a paean to the joys of slackerdom.
(Sept.) Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
*Starred Review* Pablo Miralles, rotund scion of a wealthy Barcelona family, is intelligent, belligerent, profound, profane, and, above all, lazy. He sleeps late, drinks and drugs, hires hookers, and spends his spare time arguing online with the other members of the Metaphysical Club. He scorns his serious, hardworking brother, whom he calls "The First," but when The First disappears, Lady First thinks Pablo is just the man to find him. Pablo takes the case--sort of. Tusset's novel is a mystery in the same way that
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is a report of a motorcycle race.
Croissant is more coherent, but Tusset treats the quest as simply an excuse to let us spend time with his fantastically funny (and insanely quotable) hero, who is less interested in finding The First than in testing the limits of his bank card. It drags just a bit at the end--when it's finally time to solve the mystery--but every party has a lull before lights-out. Pablo, the overweight, indignant solipsist, comes from good literary lineage, bearing a strong resemblance to both Joey Tallon in Patrick McCabe's
Call Me the Breeze (2003) and Ignatius J. Reilly in John Kennedy Toole's
Confederacy of Dunces (1980). Unforgettable.
Keir GraffCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved