Human Amusements [Paperback]

'My parents, in that other life, were teachers.' Substitute teachers, that is, unable to get permanent jobs. His father, Peter, dreamed of having real time to devote to his novel; his mother, Audrey, churned out TV scripts, routinely rejected. In the evenings they all watched a black-and-white TV dubbed 'the Gillingham,' for the repairman whose frequent visits were essential to its operation. Until one day Mr. Gillingham put the picture tube back in upside down and it operated perfectly for so many years that shameless journalists, spying through windows, consumed lots of ink speculating on why Henry Pendergast had an upside down TV set in his room.

But I digress and get ahead of myself. As in many cautionary tales, the Pendergasts get their heart's desire. Audrey sells a children?s show, 'The Rumpus Room,' which becomes a smash hit, with her as the host, Miss Mary, and Henry as twin, silent, illustrative insects, Bee Good and Bee Bad. Peter goes on teaching for a while, but the money is pointless and the principle vague. Adamantly refusing to have anything to do with the show -- except watch it -- Peter labors on his novel, refusing to discuss it, much less let anyone see it.

Their lives disrupted by aggressive journalists, the Pendergasts move to a security-conscious condominium and Henry attends an uppercrust school. The condo was a compromise that pleased no one. Peter wanted to remain in their old neighborhood; Audrey wanted a secluded suburban estate. As their interests diverge, such wrangles increase. Peter digs in his heels, but Audrey, gentle, earnest, well meaning and focused, is a force of nature.

Audrey takes her work seriously. She regards TV as a powerful instrument for good or evil. 'Good TV would keep books from becoming obsolete, she said, but my father would say it was good books that would keep books from becoming obsolete.'

Eventually Henry gets a little old for the twin bees. Audrey develops a new show about the young Philo Farnsworth, the inventor of television. The network likes it, with some minor changes that remove it from the realm of truth or history, and the show becomes a cult hit, with Henry in the title role.

But if Audrey has success, her husband has all the humor - a quality that any fan of Johnston's knows is essential for a balanced life. Audrey, poor thing, has no sense of humor at all (I did wonder, from time to time, how they ever got together in the first place). Even at its most lighthearted, Peter?s humor has an edge, but as the rift grows wider, Peter's wit becomes a weapon. Audrey gets the sentiment if not the sense, but Henry's understanding inevitably becomes complicitous.

Henry has inherited his father's humor and his mother's desire for family harmony and happiness, a warring combination. He spends a lot of time in his darkened room watching the Gillingham. His understanding of his parents' motives has undergone the dissection of reflection and in this mood he feels compassion for both, as well as a more pitiless understanding.

His own life has been shaped by celebrity. Harassed by journalists, he is virtually a prisoner, with no friends and no activities outside of acting and watching television. He is also becoming a teenager and begins to envision himself as something more than Mom's protege, as something more than Philo Farnsworth, nerd hero. The story builds to a cataclysm of good intentions, rebellion and rejection.

Johnston's ('The Colony of Unrequited Dreams,' 'The Divine Ryans') funny, poignant book is a story of growing up as an icon of popular culture, who is simultaneously a lonely unselfconfident boy. It's an exploration of one man coping with his wife?s runaway success. It's a look at the early upswell of television, with its naivety and burgeoning cynicism and it's a running commentary (mostly from Peter) on mass popular culture. It's a sharp and moving novel.