My mind was exhausted. I wasn’t ready for sleep, but I hadn’t the stomach for TV. All the magazines and nonfiction books by my bed were just too much. I need an easy read—easier than any of the few dozen paperback mysteries piled up by my desk.
And there it was—Dan Kennedy’s Loser Goes First. It is a small book, with not small print, and only 223 pages. Start it one night, finish it the next. USATODAY called it ‘laugh out loud funny.” A writer at Salon called it “hilarious.” Written by a contributor to the smugly smart McSweeney’s, and focused on one man’s foibles—it had to be good. Perfect! I had found a copy in my apartment’s laundry room months ago and the right moment had come to read it.
Not. I reached page 123 and quit. It just was not very funny. The humor was adolescent by not edgy in the least. It was a slapdish mix of vignettes and bits that read like half-baked comedy monologues. It is one “how stupid I was” story after another, and many of them don’t carry punchlines.
I hate not finishing books. It is very rare for me not to see one through, especially a short one like this. But I just couldn’t do it. Loser Goes First was a bore. Maybe a 17- or even a 22-year old might find it a hoot, but not this 43-year old. I returned it to the laundry room.
Maybe I will try one of these old crime novels instead.
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