Customer Reviews

Waterloo: A Novel

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

 

 

While Nick Lasseter is nursing a broken heart and worried about losing a very mediocre position at The Waterloo Weekly, Beverly Flintic, a newly elected state assemblywoman, is receiving daily visits from lobbyist Kenneth (Bones) Lasseter and meeting gubernatorial candidate Mark Hardaway in distant motels for a few hours. Neither Nick nor Beverly are especially tuned into local politics, both struggling to stay afloat, minor fish in a bay full of sharks in Waterloo, Texas, a thinly disguised Austin. That the inefficient Hardaway, a man of few subtleties, could reach the office of governor says more about his high-powered friends than any assumed political acumen. Beverly's affair with Mark has compromised her effectiveness in her reapportioned district; she has recently put forth a bill for neighborhood gentrification that has hidden clauses affecting the homeowners' right of imminent domain.

Andrea Carter, of The Standard American, meets Nick at a funeral for a public figure, William Stanley Sabert. Apparently Kenneth Lasseter is already known to Andrea, whose deceased father worked with Sabert. Writing an article on the Jim Crow library that is about to be demolished for city renovation, Andrea has done an interview with Sabert; hence her presence at the funeral, the only dark face in the crowd. Nick is attracted to Andrea but is distracted by a scheduled interview with Beverly Flintic, although he has no background information on which to base his questions. That changes when Bones Lasseter gives his nephew a sheaf of papers concerning the bill Flintic has sponsored. Republican Flintic is somewhat concerned about the bill and its furthering of privatization of government agenda, but has been assured that all is in order.

Beverly is well-meaning and over-worked, trying to resolve family issues while representing a constituency that demands more from her than the usual sellout. Bit by bit, moving through a gridlocked urban sprawl, Olsson's protagonists awaken to their mutual concerns. Even, Bones, the crusty Democratic lobbyist, can read the writing on the wall: "It seems like it's all or nothing. There's no more spirit of conviviality." The nostalgic ramblings of these likeable characters reveal a city of conflicts, compromises and the simple urge to succeed in life; these flawed citizens are just like working people anywhere. On the other hand, the grim reality of a shifting economy doesn't slip Olsson's attention, or how easily the important things slip our attention.

Couched in everyday amiability, this novel could be Anywhere, USA, the scene of the privatization of human services, the massive fortunes made by committees who sponsor both litigation and public servants, spreading their greed to special interests. The bottom line: in business, anyone and anything can be bought and repackaged for public consumption. Sound familiar? It should. This process has been repeating itself all over America, the poor disenfranchised by redevelopment projects, their voices silenced by the roar of cash machines, extinct as the trees removed to make way for luxury townhouses. Waterloo is peopled with folks we all know, doing their jobs, surviving day by day with a secret hope of getting ahead somewhere along the line. And here are the smooth-talkers, the political aficionados and their behind-the-scenes bankers, chipping away, with more for the few and less for the many. The unseasoned reporters, one a borderline slacker and the assemblywoman who worries about her family, make this a very human story, a fictionalized city in Texas caught in the politics of the new millennium. Luan Gaines/ 2005.

I'm this novel's ideal demographic: I've lived in Austin for three decades; I love and hate the place; I have a degree from UT; and I'm certainly a card-carrying liberal, one who has even subscribed to The Nation (to which the author has contributed). But I loathed this book. Not because it wasn't true to "my" city, but because its author thought she had to write Art instead of telling a story. By page 90, I was wondering if the story would ever begin -- or if I'd ever find anything to admire in the person who, I surmised after many choppy chapters, was the main character. But there was nothing to admire or to even vaguely like in the struggling Austin Chronicle journalist who is the protagonist. I did make it to the end of the book, because of the odd moment of funny truthfulness or because some vivid detail was keenly rendered. For that, I give the novel one star.

Olsson has written a witty, sophisticated novel that promises to entertain native Austinites as well as readers outside the boundaries of Texas' familiar capital. Beyond delving into the political nuances of state politics, Olsson possesses a sharp eye for affairs of the human heart. Her scenes and dialogue between her characters resonate with truth, and often with smirks and laughter... whether it's between Nick Lasseter, the half-hearted, left-leaning journalist, and his inebriated Uncle Bones, a washed-up lobbyist... or a brief exchange between assemblywoman Beverly Flintic and a grocery store cashier. Also, it's not any debut novelist who can seamlessly shift between characters' points of view as well as moments in time. Olsson makes something seem easy, which isn't easy at all. Enjoy!

The second half of this novel was certainly better than the first. The author was at her best in scenes heavy in dialogue. The narrative tended to wander off laden with too much description that really added nothing to the story or the characters. I don't think the overall spirit and vibe of Austin came out although I could be mistaken since I have only visited the city and have never lived there. The writing got stronger as the story went on but over all I never saw much pint in the whole thing. I did find the characters interesting enough to keep reading. Not the greatest of novels, but certainly not the worst. The author had potential so I would be open to reading future works.

_Waterloo_ winds its way to the same conflicted and heartsick ending by many different paths. From the progress-less movements of the tortured denizens of the town to the tragic but unavoidable fate of its old buildings, a tangle of love, hate and Newtonian inevitability engulf them all, separately and in a series of unexpected connections.

If this book had no other redeeming feature, Olsson's exquisite command of language alone would make it worth reading. Fortunately, the plots (yes, there is most assuredly more than one) and their intriguing associations, and the interesting, believable characters provide a very satisfying cake to undergird the linguistic icing.

In this funny, ambitious, and extremely accomplished first novel, Karen Olsson portrays past and present, hip and square, liberal and conservative, youth and maturity, and public (political) life vs. private with a deftness and wisdom that few writers can match, much less one on the front end of her career. If you're looking for an introduction to Texas, and particularly Texas politics of the past 50 years, this is a wonderful place to start; Olsson knows her stuff but conveys it with a lightness of touch that makes it all come alive in her narrative and characters. If you're a lifelong Texan, you'll find much here that illuminates (and skewers, and caresses) existence in the Lone Star state. Olsson skillfully manages a multi-layered narrative--different points of view, different eras--to such effect that the reader comes away with the sense of having experienced a thick, and tremendously entertaining, slice of life. That she's exploring the life and times of Austin, Texas--one of the best cities in America--makes it all the more enjoyable. Highly recommended.

Waterloo is very well written, but is peopled by the most boring losers I have read about in years! Both the younger characters - in their early thirties - and the older ones - in their fifties and beyond - are self-absorbed and self-righteous. Hard to say which is more boring: their drinking bouts or their sexual exploits.

Thirty-two years old political reporter at the recently purchased Waterloo Weekly, Nick feels his world is coming to an end. First the new owners demand he and other journalists must change the tone of their writing as reporting accurate breaking news is not as important as serving the customer defined of course by the owners. His editor says Nick is failing and better improve his performance or else. His former girlfriend who he misses is engaged to someone else. Finally, his only escape, The Sunset bar is closing as the city has no room for dumps and dives since the hi-tech Yuppie explosion.

Nick is assigned to profile newly elected Republican state legislator Beverly, who foxily ran on the values mumbo jumbo. Though married Beverly is having an affair with a gubernatorial candidate, whose muscles are bigger than his IQ. Nick's Uncle Bones tells him that Beverly is pushing a land deal written for her by a national developer claiming economic opportunity for everyone; he ignores how the middle class will pay the tab. Knowing this and her affair are not consumer friendly, Nick thinks of ignoring them, but new reporter African-American Andrea Carter encourages him to break the story.

WATERLOO is a harsh condemnation of the government-industrial-media complex that has permeated much of American society in recent years with Austin serving as the model. The story line employs two interrelated subplots as Nick investigates Beverly while her affairs are also on display. Fans bushed with non war "sacrifice" that shrinks disposable income into the red while swallowing castor oil laws to make us better will enjoy this muckraking exposé of capital politics.

Harriet Klausner

Ugly cover, lousy title...and the book itself! Bland, boring, unconvincing. There's nothing wrong with having characters who are slackers, but it might help to have the slackers be interesting or even a little nuts. Nothing is at stake in this book--for anybody. And Olsson apparently has no sense of humor--her charactrers are all very grim and very earnest, and she's very condescending not only the poor boring dopes that inhabit her book but to her readers as well. Very sad. And why use "Waterloo" for Austin--especially since the book jacket says "Austin"? Stupid.

The sound you hear is Billy Lee Brammer spinning in his grave....

I could not get interested in this book. Distill this book down and it's Nick Hornby (slackers looking for meaning) meets Danielle Steele (affairs and intrigue). Boring and it doesn't bring anything new to the table.

And why not just be blatant about the city? I can't grasp the point of using the skeleton of the city, yet renaming EVERYTHING...even Town Lake. I mean, it's not like the river is going to sue you for using its name. Good grief. If the goal was to make the Austin setting into Everytown, USA, why go to such efforts to describe Austin? But the great thing about Austin is precisely that it is NOT just anywhere. Go with it, girl!

Regardless of any "government-industrial-media complex" this book might explore, the root of any good book is an interesting plot and compelling characters--neither of which exist in this book. This topic would be better discussed as an essay.