Word: reader
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...insistence on using the imagery to make naive, amorphous political statements. Homes says she was inspired to write the book after Jesse Helms' attacks on the National Endowment for the Arts. Unfortunately, she takes it on too obviously. At certain points in the book, her pedophile narrator addresses the reader directly to explain that the book is not meant to shock but to show that he is really no different from us. 'I am no better or worse,' he insists. 'A social construct supported by judge, jury and tattletales has put me away because I threaten them.' "In other words...
Very loosely based on the rise of news reader Jessica Savitch, the script by Joan Didion and John Gregory Dunne sends Sally Atwater (Pfeiffer)--all elbows and naked ambition--into a Miami TV newsroom presided over by Warren Justice (Redford), who ankled the network scene because he was too darned independent. Sally, later called Tally, is raw but cunning and learns quickly; best of all, in the tyranny of telegenics, "she eats the lens." Soon she has the coolest gig in journalism: asking hard questions of politicians by day, having Robert Redford massage her feet at night...
...filthy facts here, no trite wrap-ups--just funny, sustaining fiction. The only resemblance between McCauley's writing and rehab is that you can just check in. Such are the author's fluency and humor ("Nothing is more intimate than the right kind of insult") that the reader can ramble along, smelling the roses...
...almost against his will, Clyde is a good egg--to his father, to his straight roommate, to his brittle, plucky sister and especially to a lonely boy named Ben and his dog Otis, another creature whose life is on hold. In the end there are resolutions, but the reader may want to postpone them. McCauley's particular skill lies in his grasp of the bonds that link straights and gays in the maze of life's daily dealings. There sexual preference counts a lot less than goodwill and a hardy knack for survival...
...this article comes to a close, I look back and see that I have done a poor job of relating my inner turmoil to you, the reader. I hope you have been able to fill in the blanks with your own feelings of blah that February has given you, or else you might think I'm crazy. Either way, through the writing of this piece, I have come to a pleasant realization: Maybe February's purpose is to make us check out ourselves in the mirror and question the lives that we lead...