Amazon.com Review
Peel back the made-for-TV-movie premise of Dave King's
The Ha-Ha and you'll find a shrewd, engrossing, and occasionally gritty first novel in the tradition of Jane Smiley. Howard is a brain-damaged Vietnam vet who can't speak or write, but who has managed to establish a reasonably good life in his small Midwestern hometown. In fact, Howard's chief limitation isn't his silence but his lingering romantic attachment to his high school girlfriend, Sylvia, now the drug-addicted single mother of a nine-year-old boy named Ryan (not Howard's child). Accustomed to Howard's devotion--and equally accustomed to rejecting his love, like a campfire she pees on again and again--Sylvia more or less dumps Ryan on him when she is forced to enter rehab. Yes, the handicapped vet must forge a relationship with the sullen fatherless boy. With material as Hallmark-tinged like this, it's only through vivid, honest, and far from syrupy characterization that King keeps sentimentality at bay. You can predict what happens when the gruff Howard begins to coach Little League (aw, shucks), but not his ferocious reaction to Sylvia's eventual betrayal. A skillful debut with several surprises.
--Regina Marler
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
From Publishers Weekly
King offers a deeply genuine performance of this subtle yet affecting novel told from the perspective of Howard Kapostash, a wounded Vietnam veteran whose injury has left him unable to read, write or speak, but who is, as the card he's always reluctant to give people points out, "of normal intelligence." After Howard agrees to look after his ex-girlfriend's son, Ryan, while she is in rehab, Ryan's presence profoundly alters the lives of Howard and his three housemates. The vital element to the success of this recording is how Kinney's reading voice meshes with Howard's narrative one. Kinney does an excellent job with Howard's various moods, from the quiet joy of watching Ryan's Little League practice to the simmering and occasionally explosive frustration of not being able to communicate his thoughts. He also slides easily between the Texas drawl of one character and the slangy banter of a feckless pair of 20-somethings living under Howard's roof. The production includes some aptly employed musical accompaniment. Soft piano, for instance, tinkles in the background as Howard remembers the mine explosion that injured him, and a buoyant, guitar-driven theme recurs but avoids being cloying or overdone. The same can be said for the book itself, which—though loosely predictable—remains earnest and inspiring.
Simultaneous release with the Little, Brown hardcover (Forecasts, Nov. 15, 2004). (Jan.) Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.