From Publishers Weekly
Readers skeptical of (but intrigued by) conceptual and installation art will enjoy this clever parodic take on the contemporary art world. In fake reviews, lists of found objects, profiles, photo captions and catalogue copy—each named for moon landmarks ("Sea of Rains," "Straight Wall," "Lake of Dreams," etc.)—Sorrentino (
Little Casino) satirizes the esoteric works found on the cultural cutting edge. He skewers highfalutin academic language ("These familiar geometrical shapes function as footnotes or marginalia, of course"), targets fashion magazines featuring models in $900 "food-encrusted" sweaters from stores with names like "Suck-Egg Mule" and pokes fun at galleries by listing works they've inexplicably rejected, then displayed, including "Myrna Felt Like Undressing for the Conductor" by Yolanda Philippo and "Bottle of Worcestershire Sauce" by Raoul. But like the neon sculptures he playfully derides, Sorrentino belongs to the avant-garde: there's no narrative here, nor are there central characters. Instead, there's a dead-on appropriation of the pretentious critic's voice, which analyzes "qualities that insist on the absence that is within the implied absence of the brick pile itself" and an exquisite attention to detail within the fakery. This proves an intimate knowledge of the subject being mocked; beneath his loving, blustery banter, Sorrentino clearly values the rights of artists to push the limits of audience expectation—and patience.
(Apr.) Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
From Booklist
For decades Sorrentino, prolific, irreverent, and imaginative, has been sequestered in the lamentable territory reserved for that endangered species, the "writer's writer." But recently he has aligned himself with the moon, and leapt the barrier with irresistibly smart and pithy comic works. First came the acclaimed
The Moon in Its Flight [BKL Ap 1 04], a collection of wry salvos on all things literary. Now, in
Lunar Follies, he aims his satirical wit, acrobatic linguistics, and critical acumen at the art world to hilarious effect. In each mock review of an installation piece or exhibit, all of which are named after features on the moon to indicate their inherent lunacy, Sorrentino manages to brilliantly satirize not only bad and pretentious art but also ludicrously pedantic and fawning art criticism--not to mention our fascination with celebrities, sex, and mobsters, and our high tolerance for excessive historical minutiae and sheer vapidness. Sorrentino's riffs are beat poetry, his sly descent into absurdity deliciously funny, and his send-up of artistic pomposity at once affectionate and affirming. We knew the emperor had no clothes.
Donna SeamanCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved
