Customer Reviews

Hooking Up

5 star:		(29)
4 star:		(20)
3 star:		(14)
2 star:		(5)
1 star:		(2)

 

 

After twenty years, Tom Wolfe is back with another collection of essays of social criticism. Throughout much of the Eighties and Nineties, it seemed that he had been overtaken by the changing times, as every satirist eventually must be. The sprayer of irony one day finds himself drowing in it. His two smash novels pointed to new directions for him.

But here is this grab bag of old and new material, picking right up where his last such, 1980's _In Our Time_, left off. He didn't include any of his very witty caricatures here, though-too bad. One of the essays, "My Three Stooges", a barrel-roll around his literary competition, would have been a good forum for them.

That piece, "My Three Stooges" is a terrific rejoinder to his critics in thenortheasternliberalliteraryestablishment. The writers who inhabit the Long Island-Martha's Vinyard-rural New England triangle have been so increasingly irrelevant to the rest of American life that it's all the New York literary taste-makers can do to keep them afloat. This may be the knock-out blow for them, as Wolfe touts the vital but neglected role of reportage in bringing the parade of American life successfully to print.

Wolfe's style has remained rather static over the years. He still uses his familiar panoply of ellipses, italics, and repetition, though the pages are not as annoyingly snowy with them as in his earlier days. Mysteriously, he recycled a _lot_ of snappy turns of phrase from earlier books. I mean, verbatim passages of description, "gold chains twinkling in his chest hairs," "hung their hides over the edge," "Please God, don't let me look old," to list a very few, all made memorable appearances in his work decades ago. Plus, the use of tell-tale brand names as punchlines makes some older essays sound stale, as those brands have lost their cachet or stigma over the years.

The collection has its strengths and weaknesses, of course, like all collections of anything do. _The Right Stuff_ notwithstanding, Wolfe is not a science writer, and his two essays on sociobiology here feel like oversimplifications. There's surely room for satire in that field, but this doesn't feel like his best work. The horselaugh at _The New Yorker_'s expense is a cute souvenir of Sixties New York, but no more than that. And "Ambush at Fort Bragg" confused a lot of people, perhaps because the story didn't tell them what to think about the events. Just enjoy the characterizations, then. A more detailed acknowledgements section would be useful, showing when and where these pieces are from.

But "Two Men Who Went West" is a very interesting tale about the birth of Silicon Valley and its unique corporate culture. "In the Land of the Rococo Marxists" is a richly deserved, exquisitely drawn out sneer at pampered academic radicals, and how they have coped with their side losing the Cold War. "The Invisible Artist" is a surprisingly affectionate account of the career of Frederick Hart. And the introduction to the book, "Hooking Up" is vintage Wolfe, modern mores seen through the uncomprehending eyes of a deftly-detailed ordinary joe.

So everything old is new again! The reporter-satirist-novelist-reporter still has a sharp eye for the current scene, even if his style is flash-frozen in time. A must for Wolfe fans.

OK, let me begin by saying that Tom Wolfe is one of my favorite authors. He does his homework, has an eye for detail and an exquisite (ooh...there's that word!) way of bending the English language to his purposes. So, I'm a fan.

However, I found "Hooking Up" to be less than I expected or hoped for. Other reviewers have commented on the dubious relevance of some of the essays, and I agree. The piece on the NY Times was well-written, as usual, but I just didn't care about the topic. It seemed to be a little too shrill, a little too self-serving...but in the end I just didn't care.

"Ambush At Fort Bragg" was deadly in its aim, but the sexual content bordered on pornographic (I say this even as I admit that it fit the context of the story) and, frankly, I'm just a tad weary of such things.

Mr. Wolfe is at his best when he takes aim at current social, philosophic and scientific issues, and dissects them, layer by layer, exposing the good with the bad. He does this in a number of essays in this collection, and that is the saving grace for this book. If you're a Tom Wolfe fan, by all means - buy the book. If you're not familiar with his work but want to be, there are better choices.

If you love living in America, if you're thrilled by the raw courage of entrepeneurial effort that explodes into success, and if you refuse to accept the center-left line America's liberal elite wants to hand you, then Tom Wolfe is your go-to guy. He's hard-working, brilliant, and writes like a man playing a burning piano.

Although many know him best for his novels like "Bonfire of the Vanities" and "A Man in Full", you're missing his best work if you don't read the essay collections like "Hooking Up". In this volume, we get the true story behind the birth of Silicon Valley, a tale of a great artist no one knows because he possesses actual skill, a novella skewering the television news magazines, and several other gems.

If you have a Wolfe collection, add this book to it. If you don't have a Wolfe collection, start one!

I came to "Hooking Up" after having finished Paul Johnson's "Intellectuals," another great study of thought and its effect in our society. I've actually met Tom Wolfe at Duke Univ., and was struck by how open and sensible he was. This collection of essays is more than a humorous and hip read: it's responsible. The research and journalism are sound; the depth of humanity displayed in the exposition of it is touching. The defense of Naturalism in "My Three Stooges" is something that one would have thought went without saying, but for the past four decades, hasn't. It is so good to see the inward-looking, self-absorbed writers like Updike falling at last by the wayside. Updike's problem is that he never went out into the crazy carnival of American life and lived, took chances, felt emotion in extremis, or at least spent time with people who live in these states. With Updike and Irving (Norman Mailer was always more of a self-promotion specialist than a good writer), writing is an intellectual parlor game: good for themselves, but not so exciting for the rest of us. It's nice to see Wolfe having the final word here. He's a breath of fresh air. His writing, like his lifetime pursuits, are concerned with us, all of us. He is truly the closest we've had in two generations to a writer who can at least claim pretentions of carrying the mantel of Dickens.

I first read a favorable review of this book in The Wall Street Journal so I bought it because I enjoyed Mr. Wolfe's other books. I then read a New York Times review which wasn't really a review but a political diatribe against the author.

After actually reading the book I find that his style and observations so compelling and interesting that I can't believe I was reading the same book as the Time's reviewer.

Mr. Wolfe's story about his run-in with Mailer, Updike and Irving is very funny and rings true. The sales numbers tell the story.

"The Invisible Artist" is another favorite.

I only wish Mr. Wolfe would write a piece about the election fiasco and split in the country.

I also wish he would write more material and more often as he is a national treasure.

His journalistic based style is similar to that of Neal Stephenson and Richard Dooling. I enjoy those books so much more than Updike's pondering himself.

I don't claim to have any literary pretensions--afterall I read Maxim, visit CollegeStories.com and watch too much reality TV. But I am a fan of Wolfe--ran out to buy Man in Full and I Am Charlotte Simmons. I'm also a closet science geek.

That's why I found his essays on neurosciene and the history of Intel to be particularly fanscinating. His ability to coax a story out of facts, notes, factual notes and notes about facts is amazing.

On the other hand, not being a lit head and under the age of 40, I found his version of a liteary dance-off with all of his haters to be less than interesting. And not a little chest beating.

I vote yes on checking this out from the library. Bonus: there's little chance of running up late fees.

Despite producing some of the best novels, reporting, and essays of the past thirty or mopre years, Tom Wolfe remains underappreciated in literary circles- perhaps because he's never sought to be one of the insiders. His politics are his own, not dictated by the fashions of the New York Review of Books, and his writing owes more to the great novelists like Zola and Tolstoy than it does to the postmodern icons whose work seems to by the standard for literary merit these day.

And that's a pity, as few writers can compete with Wolfe when it comes to making important points about culture in a way that's so entertaining. Aphorisms seem to spill out of him like water from a tap. For instance, his reaction to the oft-heard threat that America is falling into some sort of opressive government: "Fascism is forever descending on America- but it always seems to land in Europe."

This book contains a number of Wolfe's observations of the cultural scene, going back to a brilliant parody of The New Yorker and New Yorker editor William Shawn that appeared in Esquire around thirty years ago. All are showpieces for Wolfe's brilliant writing style and incisive wit.

My favorite? Hard to decide between "Roccoco Marxists" (a discussion of the literary Marxism that lives on in academic and cultural circles) and "My Three Stooges", which combines Wolfe's serious call for a return to the naturalistic novel with a hysterically funny description of the attacks visited upon him by three of America's supposed literary lions.

But really, it's impossible to pick out favorites; it's all very, very good. I enjoyed it so much I went out and found a few more used copies to give to friends whom I thought might appreciate it as well. If you like the sort of witty, thoughful writing that seems to have disappeared in the modern era, you might like it, too.

I've previously enjoyed The Right Stuff and Wolfe's two novels, but I had never read any of his essays or short stories. "Hooking Up" was an excellent, accessible introduction into these genres. The essays in the book cover a range of topics about modern America including its sexual mores, the rise of technology, art and contemporary novels. He makes many great arguments for the greatness and unique character of America and uses his intelligent wit, knowledge of philosophy and historical facts to make strong cases. His writing, as always, is excellent and the stories were insightful. This collection also includes a novella that is both fun and concise (not always Wolfe's strong suit). I think this is a fabulous book for Wolfe fans like myself, but also good for people who want a quick introduction to him without committing to an 800 page novel. Further, it would be great reading for people interested in American Studies and provides a good starting point for lengthy debates. This is a very good book and well worth purchasing.

This book feels haphazard, because nothing unifies the selections. There are essays on the founder of Intel and on the New Yorker (among other subjects) mixed in with a novella and diatribe on three prominent authors. One senses the publisher's desire to get something, ANYTHING, by Wolfe into print before Christmas.

The section of the book on the New Yorker is the most disappointing. The two pieces on the magazine are over thirty years old! The editor he mocks is long gone. Who cares anymore? This was disposable newspaper prose, not a work for the ages to be republished decades later.

The New Yorker section also illustrates how little Wolfe has grown in the intervening years. He keeps his choice of topics fresh, and he still has an acute eye for detail, but the writing style! All those exclamation marks! The old man in white still writes like the Young Turk he once was! Amazing! And that sneering prose! Still there! But shouldn't we expect some changes in his knockabout prose in the past decades? Furthermore, Wolfe is recycling ideas. In how many books has he compared the dress of doormen to 19th century Austrian colonels or Gilbert and Sullivan characters. It's funny the first couple of times but annoying afterwards. Even within this book he recycles many phrases, sometimes word-for-word. Is it deliberate or just sloppy editing?

The novella "Ambush at Fort Bragg" on its own would be three-stars. Mostly it seems to be an excuse for Wolfe to write some porno scenes and to make fun of the people behind TV newsmagazines. But it also illustrates the limitations of his fiction. Unlike Dickens, who also was a reporter turned novelist with a great sense of humor, Wolfe has no affection for his characters. They all are just absurd spectacles for the man in white to mock. Yes, his mockery is funny, but it can wear thin. Where is the compassionate understanding of people that belongs to the greatest novelists? (Of course, Dickens can be mawkishly sentimental -- a sin Wolfe never shares.) Wolfe's characters are too thin to populate great literature. They are all absurd affect and pretension, no heart.

Although Wolfe's attack upon Irving, Mailer, and Updike is in some respects petty, but it does allow him to make a case for his style of literature: engaged with its time and place.

The usual suspects come in for a bashing (Marxists, the PC crowd, intellectuals, modern artists, etc.). Many of these people deserve to be bashed, but Wolfe has done so long before this book. In short: more recycling.

For my money, the essays in the first section are the best. Wolfe shows his wonderful skills as an observer of the American scene. But he also displays his penchant for overstatement. For instance, to listen to Wolfe you'd think that American philosophy was a cesspool of deconstructionism. In fact, deconstructionism exists only at the fringes of philosophy in America. Most American philosophers come out of the tradition of Frege and Russell, not Heidegger and Derrida. Also, Wolfe oversimplifies the debate concerning sociobiology. Yes, many of E. O. Wilson's opponents have been uncivil and thuggish, but some have had legitimate concerns that his sociobiological program is an attempt to give social constructions the imprimatur of biological destiny. Wolfe gives Wilson's critics no credit at all. Wilson simply is portrayed as A Great Man having to do battle with the forces of ignorance and foolishness. My own opinion is that neither Wilson nor his opponents have proven their cases yet.

Wolfe's collection 'Hooking Up' is described as a book that talks about sex, courtship, and the 'hooking up' of males and females in today's society. It's not exactly that. What it is, is a collection of essays and fiction collected by Wolfe and thrown together. Nothing wrong with that, but I want to make sure no one is fooled like I was. That being said, it is a pretty good collection of work. It's divided into five parts.

Part 1 (Hooking Up) contains the title essay, one which deals with sex and courtship, then and now. Wolfe doesn't deliver anything new or shocking here.

Part 2 (The Human Beast) contains 3 essays. The first deals with the rise of Pentium and the silicon revolution. Wolfe's skill as a journalist is evident here, but the reading is a bit slow. Both of the other essays deal with the digital revolution. It's a topic Wolfe can write about, but not one that is enjoyable to read.

Part 3 (Vita Robusta, Ars Anorexica) contains four essays. My favorite piece that I've read by Wolfe is "My Three Stooges." Wolfe uses his wit to poke fun at Updike, Mailer, and John Irving, who attacked Wolfe's _A Man in Full_ when it was published. It's a great essay, and you see Wolfe's talents in full. I loved it. There is also his essay "The Invisible Artist" which contains Wolfe's thought on 'modern art' and the sculptor who designed the sculpture at the Viet Nam Memorial and other works we all recognize, but don't know the artist (and even, as Wolfe points out, may not consider the works art).

The next section contains Wolfe's novells "Ambush at Fort Bragg", which is the only fiction in the collection, but it's a good story.

The final section is 'The New Yorker Affair' in which Wolfe spoofed the New Yorker by doing a profile of their editor. It's a great section.

The New Yorker Affair, Ambush at Fort Bragg, and my favorite essay "My Three Stooges" show Wolfe at his best, and they alone are worth the price of the collection. And I'm sure you'll get some enjoyment out of the other pieces as well.