Weissman's second story collection is surprising, rollicking and clever, but not for the faint of heart: there's scatological humor, graphic sex scenes (including one between bears) and an enduring, buoyant enthusiasm for the profane. In "The Fecality of It All," an unnamed narrator takes a forced break from dubbing rented porn tapes to contend with cleaning up the house after the toilet overflows, and implores the reader to have pity on him, for "humble is the man who is backed against the wall by his own bowel movement." In "Hitler Ski Story," Weissman (Dear Dead Person
) details the führer's travails on the hills: Eva Braun, "after a day of flirty skiing with... Gunter, Heinz, and Klaus," catches up with the unathletic Hitler on the bunny hill, sprays snow on him and taunts "Dolfy on his duffer." What makes these stories exciting and more than pretentiously outré experiments is Weissman's zesty, original use of language and his unflinching approach to describing human truths, especially the awkward, bizarre or undesirable ones. In "Marnie," one of the collection's best stories, a Cal Arts grad student and skiing freak vacillates between "full-throttle hysterics and an eerie composure" when his gorgeous friend has a terrible accident on the slopes. When the doctor tells him two holes had to be drilled in Marnie's head "to relieve brain pressure," Sam thinks "Holes? Drilled? I couldn't help thinking, What is this, woodshop?" It sounds flip, but it's not—it's honest and bold, just like the rest of these truly original stories (Feb.)
Forecast:
Blurbs from Alice Sebold, Bret Easton Ellis and Lydia Davis will help attract browsers, as will the striking cover art (a photograph of Paul McCarthy's bunny-headed, plastic-tailed sculpture
Spaghetti Man).
