Customer Reviews

Tooth Imprints on a Corn Dog

5 star:		(2)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

Leyner leaves his "teeth imprints" with the 17 stories, plays, ramblings, and dedications contained within. With his Dennis Miller-ish vocabulary, Reyner remarks on the absurdity that is prevalent in modern life.

"The Mary Poppins' Kidnapping" throws a nod to the present censoring of the media. After viewing "Mary Poppins" three teenagers kidnap an English woman so that they could have a nanny. This triggers an across the board censorship for anything from "Mary Poppins" to "The Sound Of Music" stating that it's "...irresponsible to expose young people from middle- and low-income families to films depicting ostentatious affluence." which "...has the potential for provoking very explosive antisocial behavior."

"The (Illustrated) Body Politics" exposes that senators have hidden tattoos that represent their true standings on issues. In "Oh, Brother", two Melendez type brothers kill their parents with Howitzer shells, rocket-propelled grenades and 9mm Luger rounds then plead innocent using the "imperfect self-defense" concept. Stating that since their parents were understanding, supportive, and compassionate towards them, they didn't act like other parents and were covering up a plot to kill them so they struck first.

And that's just the tip of the iceberg.

Writing like Christopher Moore with a newly acquired thesaurus, Leyner makes you laugh, cringe, and wonder. After possibly the longest dedication in written history the fun begins. Although he loves using big words don't be scared off. Bring a dictionary (optional) and an open mind (mandatory) and enjoy.

The reviewer who gave this book only one star seems to have been anticipating a great number of punchlines in this book. There aren't that many. The book isn't based on "jokes" as such but on wry, pithy obsevations of the world at large, seen through the lens of Leyner's sense of the absurd. If you want "jokes," there are plenty of books like that out there. This book is not for a general audience anyway -- it takes a special outlook to even appreciate this book -- but for those with the mind set to appreciate this kind of humor, while it may not be falling-down funny, it is enjoyable.

Mark Leyner is, as his readers know, a master of wit, and indeed, there are moments in this book that ring with all the humor of "Et Tu, Babe" and his other previous novels. What's missing is the point. Where before Leyner tapped into ideas that nobody would have thought seriously about, (Does the title, "My Cousin, My Gastroenterologist" tell you anything?) here he is content to repeat himself. Whole sections of the book are devoted to the kind of megalomania "Et Tu" pulled off so brilliantly. Here it falls flat, and makes you seriously wonder about Leyner's state of mind. I understand he's at work on a new "novel," (this is a series of short works, like "My Cousin") and perhaps he's saving his energy for that. Still, some definite good times. Especially the piece on his wife during childbirth and a strange hunt for a Barbie handbag. Good, but not nearly good enough

Nah, I think I would have to say that this book IS falling down funny, in fact I've never laughed so much. Burroughs, Thompson, I hear people compare Mark Leyner to so many beat or other post-modern writers, but I guarantee you that you will NEVER read something quite like this. I ended up reading at least half the book aloud to my roommate while tears were falling down my face from my fits of laughter. It may not be for everyone, but it is surely for anyone like myself that likes their humor fast, random, and fantastically absurd.

This book was the most hillarious thing i have ever read. I laughed so hard i cried. Everyone needs to read this book, it is wonderfully relaxing and therapeutic.

To tell you the truth, I bought this book because some reviewer said that Leyner is William Burroughs and Beavis&Butthead combined. Well, no need to rush to your nearest internet bookstore -- he is neither. His jokes are not funny, they are at most cheeky (and by that I mean the kind of cheakiness that people in their 40s have when they try to sound young, fresh, hip, clever and imaginative). At first you allow yourself a smile, in anticipation of "the funny stuff", but it just never comes. This collection of short stories is probably "ok" for a column in Esquire, but it is simply inadequate as a book, because while in mens' magazines apart from the text you also have pictures of pretty chicks, this compilation has nothing else to offer.

Granted, it is difficult to judge a writer by short stories, but reading this is a total waste of time and I can only blame myself for being too thick to realise it only after I almost finished the book. Oh, by the way, here in the UK the book has a different title: "A dream date with Di". Well, a person fantasizing about a date with Princess Di does not strike one as a progressive writer, and one who actually tries to make fun of the idea is even worse.