Three Dollars, Elliot Perlman
3.21.11 – 3.22.11
Again, a book that felt more like a writer’s exercise (three in a row! Unfortunate). Well, that’s not entirely accurate. I think I might just be in the wrong mod for the particular genre, but it felt like all the author did was enjoy listening to the sound of his own (figurative) voice. He does remind me of Jonathan Franzen, a bit, in his attempt to capture a generation through a selected handful of people.
His protagonist was too perfect—he literally did nothing wrong, and he didn’t initiate anything. He would not stand up to [my friend]’s character screen wright test. The main protagonist was the center of the book, and yet he wasn’t an active character—his name was merely a placeholder for events to revolve around.
Now I have to re-read Seven Types of Ambiguity and determine if it’s any good, beyond its plot. TO see if the characters have any substance, that is.