From Publishers Weekly
Gold, who made a promising literary debut in the '60s with the short story collection Nickel Miseries and the novel Sick Friends , has not hitherto been heard from since. The reason, apparently, was an extended bout with alcoholism, distilled into fiction here. The story of Jason Sams, failed writer, sheepish husband and father, and hopeless drunkard, is familiar fictional turf; but Gold brings to it a lot of style and verve, catching the dreamlike sense of inevitable but gladly accepted ruin the true alcoholic seems to feel. The time span of the novel embraces a lost New York weekend in which Sams sees his agent, his wary new editor (an acute publishing eye at work here), sponges off an old friend, visits his parents, attends a funeral and reminisces about his derailed life. Where it differs from most such downbeat, morosely humorous accounts is in the resolution: Sams enrolls reluctantly in AA, stops drinking but has no sudden epiphany. Rather he becomes glumly grateful for being able to function at all, while remaining grimly aware of the gulf over which he hangs. But if Sams does not triumph, Gold certainly does. His is a brave and salutary book, quite without self-pity, and marks the welcome, and moving, return of a highly talented writer.
Copyright 1990 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Library Journal
In Sick Friends (1969), Gold's first novel, Sixties writer Jason Sams cheerfully admitted to being a sex fiend and an alcoholic. Now, in 1976, writing and sex are dim memories and drinking controls his life. Fired from a demeaning job at a Boston university, Sams heads for New York City to re-establish contact with the publishing world. This goal is quickly forgotten, however, and the trip degenerates into a sodden tour of liquor stores and taverns in search of the elusive India Ale. Gold has the psychology of alcoholism down cold, and the first half of this book invites comparison with Charles Jackson's classic The Lost Weekend . Unfortunately, the book's final chapters--which compress eight years of AA meetings and Antabuse into an optimistic coda--detract from the overall effect. This last-minute change of genre makes the novel more appropriate for substance-abuse collections than for general fiction collections.
- Edward B. St. John, Loyola Law Sch. Lib., Los AngelesCopyright 1990 Reed Business Information, Inc.