A collection of short fiction that’s “fearless, fun, and sometimes filthy” (Alice Sebold, bestselling author of The Lovely Bones).
Called “wildly inventive, profane, and hilarious” by Bret Easton Ellis, these short stories from the author of the cult classic Dear Dead Person head in countess surprising directions—from a skiing Hitler on the bunny slope, to a man dealing with dubbing porn tapes and cleaning up an overflowing toilet, to the sex lives of bears.
“Surprising, rollicking and clever, but not for the faint of heart . . . Truly original stories.” —Publishers Weekly
“[A] playful mélange of erotic black comedy and domestic pathos, dysfunctional families and all-too-functional men, dictators and lumberjacks. Weissman is an expert juggler of tone.” —Los Angeles Times
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 f hrer'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 outr 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