Roth’s books (and I’ve read almost all of them) take on a mantra-like quality with their repetition. All of ’em, even the high concept ones like Operation: Shylock or The Plot Against America, are basically the same stories over and over.
This time, the main character is a little more of a pompous prick than usual. And it doesn’t work out well for him.
This li’l novella is wonderfully funny and has some of the best recollections of mid-century sexual deviance that I’ve ever read. He does it so effortlessly. There’s an insight on every page. Another masterpiece from a man who has delivered many of them.
