There is so much going on here that not every plot thread seems to get the attention it deserves, but the overall effect is both hilarious and sad. The protagonist and narrator is an African-American author of what seem to be almost unreadable novels who, upset at the praise for a semi-literate best seller about ghetto life, writes his own book in response, then publishes it under another name. It's easy to guess what's going to end up happening, although I wish the book had just a few more pages at the end. The book he writes, which he insists be published as "Fuck" is included in its entirety, and it is hysterically funny in its excess of expletives and sordid tale of a teenager who has already fathered four babies by four women and isn't done yet. Besides that main thread, Everett also focuses on the relationships of the author with his aging mother, who is succumbing to Alzheimer's, her long-time live-in housekeeper, his deceased doctor father, his doctor sister--who is beset by pro-life demonstrators and death threats at her clinic in Washington, DC--and his brother, now a plastic surgeon in Arizona, who is going through a life crisis of his own. Oh yes, there are also secrets to discover, relationships to have and sever, and all sorts of satire about the literary world as the author is chosen to serve on a prestigious panel to select the year's best book. Throughout, Everett intersperses conversations between noteworthy historical figures, some of which are pretty funny. All in all, this is a book unlike any other you've ever read in its weird combination of things. Almost as if the author didn't know if he'd get another chance and put all his ideas into this one book. (From my subsequent exposure to Everett, this is NOT the case, however.) But despite coming up short here and there (the thread about the sister, for instance, doesn't really get as much attention as it should), I'm glad Everett aimed high. (And who would want to miss the reality TV scene in the novel within the novel!) I will definitely check out more of his work.

I listened to the audiobook, and the narrator is superb. Audiobook narrators usually are, but this one is even more superb than that. ( )

This novel is crammed with ancillary literary ephemera that makes me feel dumb. My fault, not the author's. After the movie American Fiction, I had to read my first Everett writing, and it is clear that the filmmakers made a much softer story than the book tells. Thelonious Monk is a much unhappier person than Jeffrey Wright was scripted in the movie. And a much more learned and erudite man. And his family situation is even more painful - not sure why the film chose to avoid the real cause of sister Lisa's death. Brother Bill's character is also softened and expanded in the film. All of this because this is a hard, sad, hopeless novel, but brimming with incredibly creative flourishes. The most joyous parts are when various historical figures of artists, filmmakers, and writers join up for italicized rap battles - Oscar Wilde vs James Joyce, Mark Rothko vs Alain Renais, DW Griffith vs Richard Wright. The text also includes Stagg R. Leigh's novel My Pafology, a/k/a/ Fuck, and a deliberately miserable read, for dialect and contents. Summary: I know a bit more about this man, smartass and hardass. ( )

Really great. Then watched American Fiction.

Witty, smart, humane, challenging. This wonderful novel -- the basis for the (very good) movie "American Fiction" -- is a must for anyone looking for intelligent yet entertaining reading. This is for you, if you care about books, the book industry, and how we as a society see one another -- all wrapped in an often very funny, touching and very well written story. I will definitely read more of Everett's books. ( )

While attending the Austin Film Festival, I attended a very interesting workshop with screenwriter and filmmaker Cord Jefferson, nominated for the Academy Award for his film "American Fiction". This is the novel American Fiction is adapted from. Both explore the stereotyping of black people and culture. (which can be extrapolated into the stereotyping of any minority group) and the limits of identity politics. It's interesting (as a screenwriter myself) to see how the novel differs from the film. It's better in some ways, not as effective in others. The novel is deeper, and never falls into what I'd term "quality ensemble TV drama cliche", which the film sometimes does. It's darker and edgier, with experimental quirks. The protagonist is less likeable. On the other hand, the film is funnier (good for satire) and more approachable. ( )