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Most helpful customer reviews
3.0 out of 5 stars
Good, mildly overrated,
By Joshua David (Minneapolis, MN) - See all my reviews
This review is from: Bright Lights, Big City (Paperback)
"Bright Lights, Big City" is a good novel, but not quite the masterpiece some people say it is. BLBC is often funny and never boring, and shows that second-person narration can be quite effective. The hero was dumped by his wife who pursued a modeling career, and his party habits (which include lots of cocaine) are preventing him from being competent at his job, which becomes less and less important to him. Reading this novel, I wish there would have been more of Tad Allagash, one of the hero's friends, who unfortunately is much more interesting than the hero himself. I thought too much time was spent on the hero obsessing over his ex-wife, time that could have been spent on the hero's and Tad's fast-living New York lifestyle. Even so, there is much to be admired. Anyone who has ever had a cocaine habit will identify with these characters, and the ending of the book is an emotional powerhouse, all the more amazing because of its simplicity. Even though it is far from perfect, reading "Bright Lights, Big City" is time well spent.
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful:
1.0 out of 5 stars
Superficial and tired,
By
This review is from: Bright Lights, Big City (Paperback)
This novel reads much like an entertaining article in a magazine; it's light, with little insight into the human condition or, more specifically, into the psyches of the central characters. The word surface has a gloss, which is pleasant enough, but which falls far short of sustaining repeated readings. It is disposable literature, masquerading as something more permanent.* The protagonist identifies himself swiftly as enjoying an elite, Ivy League, background, with an accompanying modest cushion of wealth. His talents and, more desperately, his potential are hailed as grand and admirable. His interest in literature, in particular, is implicitly cited as rescuing and validating his moral worth. All this is somewhat tiresome and self-satisfied, and does recall the basic scenario of Catcher in the Rye (for better or for worse). Unlike in that alleged classic, here the author feels obliged to explain the protagonist's lack of direction, and he does so clumsily, resorting to a poorly realised appeal to grief. * The minor characters fair still less well. Amanda, the prodigal model cum wife, is empty and vacuous - no attempt is made into fathoming how or why this might be so. Similarly, Tad, an accomplice in drugs and clubbing, is rendered flatly. The surface might well be amusing, or even alluring, but in a novel one could expect more than what could be provided in the space of a thirty second television commercial (and that's all that's offered). * The eighties in New York might have been interesting in some sense, but the source of that interest remains opaque after reading this ultimately rather dull book.
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful:
2.0 out of 5 stars
Overrated, mediocre.,
By Tom Helleberg (Astoria, NY) - See all my reviews
This review is from: Bright Lights, Big City (Paperback)
Well, contrary to the stereotype, here's a pretty anti-Bright Lights review from a New Yorker. I found the book a mildly amusing, but very shallowly rendered, portrait of a very specific time, place, profession, and lifestyle. McInerey seems undecided about exactly what he is undertaking. At times the book is straight satire, at times real tragedy. And the genres blend like oil and water in BLBC, each undermining the other and leaving the book without foundation. Admittedly, there are very moving passages (very late in the book), where McInerey seems to have decided which direction he'd like to take, but by then the damage is done. His use of the second-person makes the story feel partially formed. While he doesn't use the POV poorly, it is inherently flawed in that the reader is invited to bring more of him or herself into the novel, only to find a clash with the story told. Because of this it feels more a novelty device than a means of rendering the protagonist an everyman.The final flaw of the book is the target of its criticism. One review claimed that the book was dead on satire of "the MBA set" (or something to this effect), missing the point entirely that it is not the MBA set being satirized. Rather, there are a hodge-podge of targets: Ivy League literati, ad men, models, designers, Rastas, Hasidim, Greek diner owners and Greek gigolos--all told about half of New York. Thus McInerey's barbs seem thrown wild as buckshot at a skeetshoot and come across as one-liners about 1980s stereotypes. For a much better, and better focused, work of 80s satire, see Ellis's American Psycho (which -is- aimed at the MBA set and which uses deliberate, stylized, shallow representation). Not a timeless book. Frankly, I'm a little surprised it outlived its decade of origin.
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