From Publishers Weekly
Shearer, probably best known for his work on
The Simpsons and
This Is Spinal Tap, sets his farcical first novel in the world of Native American–owned casinos. After being "savaged by downsizing, by outsourcing, by plant-closing," the citizens of withering Gammage, N.Y., successfully petition Washington to be recognized as the Filaquonsett tribe so they can build a casino. Their gambling operation has a negative impact on the casino of a neighboring tribe, and that tribe settles the score by having a toxic waste dump built next to the Filaquonsett casino. It's a silly setup, and Shearer uses it to beat home points about greed, materialism and ethnic identity. The book often becomes a morass of easy one-liners ("the process was proceeding at a pace that glaciers and snails would envy"). Stereotypes about Italian-Americans and Native Americans similarly fail to go over the top, instead occupying the queasy middle ground between funny and unfortunate. One bit of inspired nonsense involves a group of diaper-wearing grownups (they consider holding DiaperCon XII in the Filaquonsett reservation), but the scatological humor won't be enough to pull readers through.
(Oct.) Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
Prolific comic actor and writer Shearer, a
Saturday Night Live alumnus and the voice of more than a dozen characters on
The Simpsons, lodges tongue firmly in cheek for this wickedly funny debut novel. The fictional town of Gammage, New York, seems on the brink of financial ruin until one of its citizens proposes a fiendishly clever plan: petition for Indian tribal status, open a casino, and bask in the glow of cash flow. The "long-lost" Filaquonsett tribe is soon up and running, despite the fact that there's not a Native American in the bunch. From mercurial casino magnates to buzz-cut government drones, Shearer pokes merciless fun at human foibles. There's irony-deficient Gammage school superintendent Roger Gardner, who uses product placement to turn a profit at local schools; Jewish Indian casino owner Joseph Catspaw, obsessed with collecting bad TV figurines; and Indian Affairs bureaucrat Hap Matthews, who would "fade into the woodwork if only the woodwork weren't so colorful." Though Shearer's ending falls a bit flat, readers can bet on lots of guffaws along the way.
Allison BlockCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved