I bought this from our local Oxfam second-hand bookshop in Chipping Norton, which I seldom leave without a purchase as they display the books so beautifully and which has that lovely musty ‘old book’ smell. With its arresting cover and great title, I was drawn to the concept of a washed-up comedian, Dov Greenstein, who has a breakdown on stage.
I love stand-up comedy, but I’ve seen it go horribly wrong, and I was curious how the author would depict this without boring us or making the jokes lame and bad. Sadly the jokes were mostly lame and bad; there were only a couple of good ones and none of them his own… maybe that’s the point, but I think the book would have been much stronger if Dov’s material had been original.
It’s not, and I really sympathise with the guy in the yellow jacket who starts banging the table demanding some jokes already: ‘I would like him to tell me what all this bullshit has to do with the 240 shekels I threw away here this evening.’
His childhood friend, Avishai, a retired judge mourning his wife, is summoned by Dov to witness the performance and is the device by which the mood of the audience is gauged; he captures their desire to have a fun night, their collective will to Dov to give of his best, their attempts to boost him, their fickleness, their division, their hostility and ultimately their sadness. We have to take his word for it, though, and sometimes his pitch perfect reading of the crowd stretches credibility a little.
Dov’s recounting of his life story while he’s on stage is the strongest strand of this novel. Grossman is a fine writer, and his translator, Jessica Cohen, did an amazing job, but the writing is not enough to rescue what is ultimately a depressing read. Also, I didn’t think the final pay-off was strong enough.
The book may be about a comedian, but the blurb made no promises to make me laugh. I’d like to try his other novels, as at least I’d know what to expect.
