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For the most part, The Hundred Brothers skates along on the strength of its comic ingenuity. Yet Antrim has some serious points to make about masculine pride, vanity, and terror--not by invoking them directly, but by inflating them to monstrous (and mirthful) proportions. And the narrator's comments about his rampaging kin often have a larger, melancholic resonance to them. Indeed, when he points out "the complexities of our interdependence and the sorry indignities that pass as currency between us in lieu of gentler tender," he might be talking about any family--even one in the single-digit range.
All I know is Pynchon and Delillo just confuse me, Vollman makes me laugh but I can't figure out what the hell he's driving at, but Antrim just makes me feel good all over.
Maybe it's the way he introduces all 100 brothers, in order, in about 5 pages, and then blithely writes the rest of the book as if you're going to remember who they all are. Which is a good hook, because, who hasn't been to a social function where you get introduced to a few dozen people within 5 minutes, after which you're supposed to remember everybody?
Maybe I just identify with the hapless, socially retarded dope of a narrator who just wants everyone to get along but ends up, well, no spoilers, in a unique and singularly undignified situation.
But it's not simplistic comedy - it's a bit like one of those Borges stories where you think, "ok, this is gonna be a quick read, only 12 pages" and then you find it takes a good 2 hours to make a bit of sense of it.
Well, you could compare it to a lot of things, but that wouldn't do it justice, because the best part is, it just ain't quite like anything you've read before.
Doug is no innocent amid his brothers, who range in careers from pschoanalysts to tripping tropical botonists. The fact that the narration comes from one just as sick and perverted as the rest of the crowd guarantees plenty of hilarity throughout the entire novel, enough to cause even the stodgiest reader a couple of unexpected laughs.
This novel confirms my belief that Donald Antrim is one of the most keenly intelligent writers of contemporary fiction. His acute observations of modern life and hilarious perversions of reality are concurrently odd and fascinating. After reading "Elect Mr. Robinson for a Better World," and now this, I am immensely looking forward to reading "The Verificationist." Antrim is one author to look out for.