From Publishers Weekly
Marx's unnamed protagonist, a Baltimore native turned Cambridge University graduate student, is struggling with her thesis on West Indian immigration when she meets Eugene Obello, fresh from Princeton and at Cambridge on a philosophy teaching fellowship. Though he's self-absorbed, distracted and cheesy ("I will always feel a great deal of agape toward you, O my everlasting," he tells the narrator) she falls for him. But he soon leaves her for the frequently ill Margaret, and the narrator is once again alone with her incomplete thesis. She quits school, returns to the states and lands a writing gig at a
Saturday Night Live–type show, but Eugene lingers in her mind. He, of course, resurfaces in New York, and the two embark on an affair. (He has since married Margaret.) Marx, a former
SNL writer and current
New Yorker contributor, undermines her main source of tension—the narrator's obsession with Eugene—by failing to present Eugene as anything more than a brainy fop, and though his demise is fitting, it'll have E.M. Forster fans crying foul.
(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.
For those who have spent hours listening to a girlfriend relate the latest about her ongoing obsession, or who have been trapped on a flight next to someone spilling out her life story, this first novel by a former writer for
Saturday Night Live will be familiar. The unnamed narrator pours out the hilarious tale of her long-standing obsession with a miserable boyfriend. As with most obsessions, this one is inexplicable both to the narrator's friends and the reader. Eugene, who never fails to remind that his grandfather was a contender for the Nobel Prize for Economics, is an academic who spouts creative pet names ("my orbital core") and periodically disappears--sometimes for years. Despite improbable plot twists, minor plot inconsistencies, and a definitively uncatchy title, there are some laugh-out-loud moments. And when the narrator explains she cannot explain "why I remained so fixed on Eugene. . . . In lieu of explanation, will you accept acknowledgment?" we want to write the line down so that we can use it the next time our own taste is questioned.
Rebecca SingerCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.