Customer Reviews

The Man Who Wrote the Book

5 star:		(18)
4 star:		(4)
3 star:		(5)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(3)

 

 

I really enjoyed this book and thus was surprised to see all the heavy criticism it received. You know that a book is not going over too well when when only 10% or 20% of the readers find the 5-star reviews helpful, which seemed to be kind of a pattern here. Nothwithstanding all that, I loved this book, and would heartily recommend it, although I wonder if males may go for it more than females. Anyway, before I lavish a little praise on the book (which everyone will disagree with anyway), let me get to the flaw (which I will try to do without giving anything away).

In any novel, virtually by necessity, certain unrealistic things have to happen; things that are not quite right. If nothing unrealistic happened, then nothing would happen at all, and you wouldn't have a story. This pivotal aspect of a novel was well described by the excellent novelist Donald Westlake as follows:

"There are moments in almost any novel when it's necessary to move a character from one position to another, so that you can move on with the story...Once the character is moved into the new position, everything is fine, but in order to make the transition, the writer has to bend somehing out of shape. Some behavior is wrong, some reaction is wrong. It's a rip in the fabric of the novel, but it's necessary to get the story where it has to go...Other writers, reading the book, might notice the lump in the batter, but most readers won't."

The trick in any novel is to try and make this "rip in the fabric" as unnoticable as possible. For me, the biggest rip in the fabric here was in fact a reaction, namely the public reaction to Ezra's work product (and I'm being vague here simply so as not to give anything away for those who haven't read the book, but those who have read the book will know exactly what I mean). That reaction just struck me as totally not credible, namely that such a product would ever, ever work its way into the public consciousness, much less at the speed of the light which this did. It would be one thing if an author was actually trying to be "high-brow low-brow" (like Nabokov's Lolita, Lawrence's Lady Chatterly's Lover or some similar work by a reputable and known author), but Ezra's work (or should we say Isaac's work?) never had such aims for a second--particularly given that it was a paperback with a dopey title and a voluptuous woman on the cover. Thus, I could just never buy into that turn of events even for a second.

Despite that, I though the book was great anyway. Maybe I'm just not as sophisticated as those who almost snobbishly put down the writing in the book (or gave it backhanded compliments like calling it nice "light" reading or "summer" reading), but I thought that the writing was great, the characters were great, the book was fuuny, the dialogue was funny--in fact, except for the above problem, I liked everything about the book. It hooked me right from the get-go and didn't let go the whole way through. In short, I recommend it highly.

OK for a light, very light, summer read; some very funny situations and dialogue; but then again, the sheer cuteness of much of it was embarrassing, and the implausibility, if that sort of thing bothers anyone anymore, was . . . incredible. I found myself irritatedly screaming at the protagonist through a couple of hundred pages: Just do the obvious, what's stopping you, why hang around a go-nowhere podunk small-minded college nursing an utterly hopeless tenure case if you've got the publishing world on a string? And why didn't the author, the real author that is, make some effort to flesh out, as in let us read, some of that phenomenal best-selling porn book the whole thing was all about? I mean, only one non-descript line was reported: Nora patted her hair into a perfectly concentric bun. Hmm . . . maybe he knows his limits?

I enjoy a good laugh and this book made me laugh a lot. I saw some parallels with Grisham's 'The Rainmaker' - if you enjoyed that then you'll probably like this. Things start out bad for our hero and get worse as his world falls apart. Sure, some of the situations are barely credible, but that's the point and that's where the humour comes from.

If you're inclined to use condescending phrases like 'light summer read' or if you're likely to be offended by sexual references, you might be best to skip it.

Every once in a great long while a book comes along to restore my faith that fiction really can take me off to another world for awhile: this book is one, and it does it stunningly well. The plot -- I should ask Professor Gordon if anyone uses such archaic notions any longer -- is, for want of a better word, twisted enough to draw you in, but where the author shines is in his characters and in his style. You already know these folks -- indeed, how did all these people you know so well, at least anecdotally, get into one book? -- but I, at least, was surprised, and interested, to see how they act when adversity strikes. Tarloff's writing is erudite, though, happily, not pretentious, and he makes many of his points through humor and the genuinely adroit use of language. This is great stuff, and absolutely worth your time, but only if your bedtime is elastic enough to permit just one more chapter, and then, perhaps, one more.

I have long maintained that any book that includes in its first sentence a reference to chiroprocty is likely to be a rollicking read. Happily, I now have a data point to support my theory. Erik Tarloff's The Man who Wrote the Book starts well: "A deep, dispiriting despondency, an oppressive enervating angst, settled over Ezra Gordon around the time Dr. Jacobs put her hand up his bum." The mood having thus been set, the rest of the book does not disappoint.

At thirty-five, Ezra Gordon's better days are behind him--or so his doctor informs him after having withdrawn from his rump. Ezra, at least, is in no position to argue with her. Divorced and deprived of access to his daughter, he is involved in a seemingly pointless relationship with Carol, the sanctimonious spawn of the blustering Reverend Mr. Dimsdale, chaplain at Buehler College. Ezra himself teaches at Buehler, a Baptist cow college in California, but with too few articles under his belt and no stomach for further deconstruction, his upcoming tenure decision does not look promising.

Broke and miserable, under suspicion of sexual harassment, with his life falling apart, Ezra escapes during spring break to the hedonistic realm of his old friend Isaac Schwimmer, one-time graduate student turned successful publisher of pornography. There he consents to write The Book, a fast bit of anonymous, lucrative porn, which turns out to be likeable by the likes of John Updike, and which consequently turns Ezra's life upside down.

The Man who Wrote the Book is a good read, fast and funny, with amusing, well-written dialogue. Ezra's internal dialogue, the caustic or ironic comments he leaves unsaid, is even funnier.

Reviewed by Debra Hamel, author of Trying Neaira: The True Story of a Courtesan's Scandalous Life in Ancient Greece

I check every couple of months to see if Tarloff has come out with a new novel because I love his work. I picked up this book on a bargain table for $1.99. What a find! It's an easy read that is very entertaining. The main character's internal monologues are hilarious. I found myself envisioning the entire story on the big screen. I've already casted the actors. (I've been trying to get some of my friends in the entertainment industry to option it). Don't pass this up.

This book is not one of the classics by any means. It is, however, a great piece of fiction. The story is engaging and the characters are likable. The plot also moves along nicely and doesn't present us with anything too incredulous. A nice, light read which everyone can enjoy.

Public radio generally has reviews I agree with and it recommended this book. I was disappointed, a somewhat clever plot and excuse for soft porn but not really all that engaging. Borrow it from the library, don't waste your money.

I really enjoyed this book. I still don't know which bothers me more, a man making it with a Penthouse model in the sauna or that the man's name is "Ezra" and making it with a Penthouse model in a sauna. This book is just plain fun. The interaction between Ezra and Ike is quick witted and light. What a good friendship should be.

THE MAN WHO WROTE THE BOOK is a must for this summer's light reading. Tarloff has shown he can gring the same sardonic wit, incisive humor and well-turned phrase to the world of small-time academia as to Belt-way politics. His Ezra Gordon, the neurotic, insecure, failing Poetry Professor is classic Woody Allen, complete with requisite alter ego, whose first-try porn novel is a smahing, if unsettling success.

Tarloff manages to make implausible scenarios and characters plausible, and he clearly knows the world of "words". One only wishes had had let more of EA Peau's porduct into THE MAN as well. One suspects that effort would be at least as credible.

This is a thoroughly enjoyable read, which is guaranteed to bring more than a few chuckles and have the reader developing cast choices for all the characters.

ES, Boston