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In his recent TEV guest review of Home Land, Jim Ruland called Sam Lipsyte the "funniest writer of his generation," and we're quite inclined to agree. We tore through Home Land in two joyful sittings and can't remember the last time we've laughed so hard. Lipsyte's constellation of oddly sympathetic losers is rendered with a sparkling, inspired prose style that's sent us off in search of all his prior work. In Lewis Miner's (a.k.a Teabag) woeful epistolary dispatches to his high school alumni newsletter ("I did not pan out."), we find an anti-hero for the age. Highly, highly recommended.
wow. my homeland! it looks kind of like it's on fire over there...is that smoke in the distance? or is it fog coming in over the bay...
I'm homesick!
Posted by: kb | August 01, 2008 at 10:48 AM
That's lousy?!? I'm humming "California Dreaming" . . .
Posted by: Brooklyn Bibliophile | August 01, 2008 at 02:13 PM