The Ask

A Novel

De: Sam Lipsyte

Narrado por: Sam Lipsyte

From the author of Home Land and Venus Drive comes Sam Lipsyte's searing, beautiful, and deeply comic novel, The Ask.

A New York Times Book Review Editors' Choice

Milo Burke, a development officer at a third-tier university, has "not been developing": after a run-in with a well-connected undergrad, he finds himself among the burgeoning class of the newly unemployed. Grasping after odd jobs to support his wife and child, Milo is offered one last chance by his former employer: he must reel in a potential donor—a major "ask"—who, mysteriously, has requested Milo's involvement. But it turns out that the ask is Milo's sinister college classmate Purdy Stuart. And the "give" won't come cheap.

Probing many themes— or, perhaps, anxieties—including work, war, sex, class, child rearing, romantic comedies, Benjamin Franklin, cooking shows on death row, and the eroticization of chicken wire, Sam Lipsyte's The Ask is a burst of genius by an author who has already demonstrated that the truly provocative and important fictions are often the funniest ones.

Overall tedious but occasional flareups of humor

This book began with a bang...had me laughing out loud a couple of times. Then it seemed to get lost in the shuffle. The central character was hard to find amidst the shifting plot lines, and the plot was hard to find amidst the shifting characters. I wasn't sure where the author was trying to go, and in fact, I don't know that he really knew where he was trying to go.

The beginning was very caustic and very good.

This is a great book if you're an artist who went to art school and/or if you work in academia - biting and accurate personality profiles, and unflinchingly meticulous descriptions of university office politics - at least at the beginning. Sadly the narrative dives into a more predictable, heavy handed, and less specific plot with less realistic, more cartoonish characters. I wished it would have meandered in the lives of the more ordinary, bitter office workers. I got the feeling that someone told the author to hurry up and finish the book somewhere in the middle. I like the first person narration, however. It was interestingly noticeable that the reader never got to find out the viewpoint of the other characters, and was forced to be as blind as the main character.

Black black stuff

Lipsyte loves paradox, puns and all manner of wordplay, and this book is a real delight as far as that goes. The plot is satisfyingly convoluted, and well told. Every single character, except the protagonist, is insulting and murderously aggressive toward all the other characters; every character, except the protagonist, has reached adulthood with a more or less coherent identity based in aggression. Though amusing, in a nasty way, they all sound alike, and a tender soul is grateful her own world doesn't contain more than a few of them. The world of this book, however, contains nothing but. The protagonist, Miles, is struggling for maturity, decency and basic coherence against overwhelming self-loathing, self-pity, resentment, envy and paralysis. As a consequence, Miles is someone you don't want to spend 10 minutes with, much less 8+ hours. Still, the story rocks along, and I stuck with it, but perhaps I'm not sophisticated enough to enjoy cruelty, which is mostly what this book is about.

Just OK

There are some great lines in this book and some wonderful dialogue.

So, I was mildly entertained.

The plot, or storyline is a mess. I can't recommend this book unless you have absolutely nothing to do.

The premise is great. Failure to execute.

Portrait of liberal guilt

So as a liberal, I've always found conservatives' obsession with the concept of liberal guilt amusing. To hear them tell it, liberals just can't get over the whole killing the Indians and enslaving the blacks thing, and all the men have vagina envy.

Well, none of the liberals I know are anything like that, but the main character in this book clearly is, and as far as I could tell, Lipsyte doesn't mean this ironically. Milo is jealous and bitter at those who have gotten more out of life than him, and simultaneously sorry for everyone who has less. He works a crummy job asking wealthy people to donate money to an art school for self-indulgent and privileged students, and is fired after a false allegation of sexual harassment by a male colleague. He's rehired on the sole condition that he can get a large check out of a former college friend, who has a special personal mission he thinks Milo would be perfect for. Meanwhile, Milo's wife is cheating on him and refuses to stop, and his son is enrolled in an experimental daycare, which is constantly causing problems.

One of the funniest scenes has Milo asking a colleague whether she would read a book about a guy like him. No, she replies, he's just not relatable. I won't go quite that far. Lipsyte is clearly a writer of some talent (I haven't read any of his other works). But in this book he seems obsessed with what strikes me as a caricature of the political left. To be clear, this is an at least somewhat approving portrait. Lipsyte is certainly not a conservative offering up Milo as a cautionary tale. But neither does he offer us any hope in Milo's struggles. Nobody really cares about Milo, including the reader, because he is an inherently sad and unlikable person, and because in the grand scheme of things he's not nearly as badly off as some others. Milo is simply stuck in the system, every bit as much at the end of the novel as at the beginning. Typical liberal, always blaming society for his problems.