Customer Reviews

The House That Ate the Hamptons: A Novel of Lily Pond Lane

5 star:		(1)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(4)

 

 

This is a silly story, but it's great escape reading. All the escape elements are there -- the life styles of the rich and famous, an improbable story line, and a pleasant ending. This is a great book to take to a vacation cottage -- and leave behind for the next occupant.

I didn't have high expectations of this book when I bought it. I was stuck at O'Hare, my flight had been delayed, I was running out of things to read. All I was looking for was an entertaining piece of trash. Unfortunately, even these reduced expectations were dismally disappointed. This is a boring, sophmoric pile of dreck. One can't even call the characters two-dimensional. They seem to be composed of a name (usually famous) and a few tedious (and often stereotypical) personality quirks. After slogging through the first 193 pages (so I'm a glutton for punishment), I have yet to find any evidence of a plot. Brady's publishers should have rejected this one. Don't make the same mistake they did -- save your money.

The House that Ate the Hamptons sparked memories of past housbuilding uproars in the tony Hamptons.....well chronicled in the newspapers' Style sections and the upscale magazines. James Brady once again mixes the famous and the veiled famous and the made up famous (how can you resist Howard Roark from The Fountainhead) mix with the real citizens of the Hamptons. Beecher Stowe VI returns and becomes embrioled in the mystery house being built by an unknown person. The house threatens to be everything the established members of all ranges of Hampton's society hate. And there are mysterious forces at work and an unexpected visit from the president. I have to be honest...I was put off by the opening "credits" listing everything from Beecher's clothing to Lady Alix's gold nipple ring. It seemed to smack of everything that established Hamptons residents find bad taste. Thiscould be an engaging story, but it gets bogged down in name dropping and side stories.

If you like adventuring in the Hampton's with a sexy bachelor and his svelt Lady Alix and money's no problem, then pick up any of James Brady's "Hampton" books. He's a surprisingly good read. I anxiously await his next book and the return to my fictional friends!

I hate to admit that I have yet to finish this book, especially since I NEVER put books aside in frustration. This one became an exception, as the overabundance of characters, jumpy storytelling, and boring name-dropping (and unless you live in the Hamptons, you don't even realize names are being dropped) really tried my patience. I was really looking forward to this novel and was extremely disappointed. If I'm ever really hard up for a read I may try and finish this someday, but more likely I'll re-read an old favorite instead.

It is fair to rank James Brady amongst America's greatest living writers--just look at his books on the Korean conflict. And his earlier mysteries set in glitzy East Hampton, as this novel is as well, were quick-paced and fun to read. One only can wonder what happened with THE HOUSE THAT ATE THE HAMPTONS. Definitely, the germ of the idea was intriguing, having to do with oil-rich Arabs and an unspoken but very real State Department desire to placate them. Yet that story was buried in THE HOUSE, taking too long to unfold and then told way too hurriedly--it was obvious that Brady wrote this book with the most minimal focus; his earlier works are proof of his otherwise great skills as an author. In fact, the whole of this rather short novel reads more like a rough draft, details to be added at a later date which never arrived. Instead, Mr. Brady relies on dragging in many of the real-life celebrities who live in this area for background color, pretty much starting and ending with this name-dropping. Some of the fictional characters clearly are based on other famous people. The manner in which they are described here, however, is too preposterous to advance the excitement of the purported mystery in which they all become involved. Mr. Brady never actually captures the tale he was attempting to tell; even his previously established characters, from his earlier mysteries GIN LANE and FURTHER LANE, are left unexplored and flat in this one. I continue to admire Mr. Brady, and to enjoy his writing, so I am hoping that if he does decide to continue this particular series, his next novel will evidence a bit more effort.

James Brady's "The House That Ate the Hamptons" is a cool breeze on a hot summer's day. The writing is crisp, the characters are well-drawn, and the too-many-to-count references to real-life celebraties are wicked fun. The mystery is incidental to the inside jokes and the arch dialogue. You couldn't ask for a better escape from the heat of summer!

The only reason I'm even giving this book 1 star is because as a Hamptons regular Brady transports me back to summer evenings at lawn parties and the beaches. Although I do not take these Hamptons books as high-brow literature, just fun casual reading I found this one to be absolutely implausible and preposterous.

It is always interesting how Brady takes the real and mixes it with the fictitous. However, this one was just out of control. It is true there is a huge house being built in Sagaponack ... which most people believe is to be a retreat or compound of some sorts... Brady uses this as his basis for the Kuwaiti backed mansion being erected in the book. But this is the only clever way he mixes it in this one. I'm not even going to get into the plot, but to use Howard Roark, the hero of Ayn Rand's fictitous The Foutainhead, as a character is just way beyond belief. The Fountainhead is not some obscure book that a few people have read. It is highly regarded and continue to sell 100,000 compies a year... Also in light of current events in the U.S. and Middle East it is so unbelieveable to have Beecher's father captured by the Taliban and let go because of some emails going back and forth. Which brings me to another point. How is Buzzy Portofino's character receiving emails over a computer while they are on a boat, running through the woods, in the hospital or wherever? This book was published in 1999 wireless internet services were not that good back then, and you can't even get good cellphone or "Blackberry" reception in the Hamptons in 2002.

All in all I felt as if Brady was taking his reader to be completely ignorant. Brady's other 2 Hamptons books that I have read, Further Lane and Gin Lane, are far better summer reading. This one seems to me to be Brady's way of quickly trying to capitalize on their NY Times best seller list status. I say skip this one.

This is a work of staggering ineptitude.

Too many words, in too flowery language, describe too many characters, engaged in too many irrelevant events, advancing too little plot.

Moreover, there is no attempt at subtlety. Hints of future developments go off like hydrogen bombs ... which is somewhat unfortunate for a "mystery novel".

Next to this, the average Victorian English novel looks like Raymond Carver.