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Welcome to Mark Leyner's America, where you can order gallium arsenide sushi at a roadside diner, get loaded on a cocktail of growth hormones and anabolic steroids, and support your habit by appearing on TV game shows. Welcome to a wildly post-Einsteinian fictional universe where the locals include a speech pathologist with a waterbug fetish, a kamikaze airline pilot, and the lead singer for Brazil's most notoriously nihilistic samba band.… (more)
Perhaps I should confess how impressed I am with Mark Leyner’s ability to keep his rambling psychotic rants on task and focused enough to the degree he maintained, with skill, the mind trip he wanted us privy to. Problem for me was not one story meant anything. There was no physical emotion anywhere amounting to something exampled. He failed to establish or express any substance. His tightrope act at times did appear astounding, but I kept asking myself why even bother? I know he is revered by many, and I respect that, but he is not adored by me. I will nonetheless still take a look at [b:Et Tu, Babe|526571|Et Tu, Babe|Mark Leyner|https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/book/50x75-a91bf249278a81aabab721ef782c4a74.png|1247799], but only because I own it. ( )
James Joyce collaborating with the Marx brothers on a novel about Mark Leyner. Genre-bending stories and poems that all blend into one another. Like being in a great dream where everythign is impossible, but makes sense. ( )
Welcome to Mark Leyner's America, where you can order gallium arsenide sushi at a roadside diner, get loaded on a cocktail of growth hormones and anabolic steroids, and support your habit by appearing on TV game shows. Welcome to a wildly post-Einsteinian fictional universe where the locals include a speech pathologist with a waterbug fetish, a kamikaze airline pilot, and the lead singer for Brazil's most notoriously nihilistic samba band.
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Welcome to Mark Leyner's America, where you can order gallium arsenide sushi at a roadside diner, get loaded on a cocktail of growth hormones and anabolic steroids, and support your habit by appearing on TV game shows. Welcome to a wildly post-Einsteinian fictional universe where the locals include a speech pathologist with a waterbug fetish, a kamikaze airline pilot, and the lead singer for Brazils's most notoriously nihilistic samba band.
My Cousin, My Gastroenterologist is fiction the brain can dance to, by one of the funniest and most subversive young writers of this, or any other, decade.
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Perhaps I should confess how impressed I am with Mark Leyner’s ability to keep his rambling psychotic rants on task and focused enough to the degree he maintained, with skill, the mind trip he wanted us privy to. Problem for me was not one story meant anything. There was no physical emotion anywhere amounting to something exampled. He failed to establish or express any substance. His tightrope act at times did appear astounding, but I kept asking myself why even bother? I know he is revered by many, and I respect that, but he is not adored by me. I will nonetheless still take a look at [b:Et Tu, Babe|526571|Et Tu, Babe|Mark Leyner|https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/book/50x75-a91bf249278a81aabab721ef782c4a74.png|1247799], but only because I own it. (