Author: Edward St. Aubyn
Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux
Publication: May 20, 2014
Never has a book title so accurately and succinctly summed up my thoughts of a novel like Lost for Words. While I find myself grasping at words and sincerely wishing the phrase-suggesting software Gold Ghost Plus actually existed right now, St. Aubyn certainly did not suffer the same affliction. I’ve never felt so exhausted after finishing a 261-page novel. While they only took a matter of hours to finish, those 200-odd pages felt much longer having to wade through the affected language and irreverent musings of unsympathetic characters. Yet because it is satire and obviously poking fun at itself, the reader is left wondering if this is sheer brilliance or just an incredible waste of time.
Lost for Words is a satirical look at a literary prize, supposedly the Booker Prize and its 2011 panel that chose to focus on “accessible” rather than literary books. The result? Enterprising judges who think they are cutting edge and experimental end up shortlisting an actual cookbook that was accidentally entered for a literary prize. An elected official pushes through his politically-motivated selection. The career-obsessed English professor obsesses over the literary quality of the shortlisted novels while simultaneously ignoring her anorexic daughter. St. Aubyn’s derision isn’t solely focused on the judges though. The novels and their authors are equally ridiculous. A voracious man-eater is the center of a love-triangle-square(?) with another author, her editor and a French deconstructionist. An Indian prince is enraged when his 2,000 page opus doesn’t make the shortlist and plans his revenge. The list goes on.
I came to the novel with limited expectations beyond a book jacket blurb and an Amazon suggestion that it was “funny.” And I admit, I was suckered in by the lovely cover art. Trying to explain Lost for Words has made me realize just how hard it is to review satire. The author’s intent is to poke fun at anything and everything. No one is safe, from the literary muses, the publishers to the judges. As a result the the characters are caricatures and cliches, very intentionally unrelatable and unapproachable. The language is overly pretentious and rubs the reader the wrong way. Yet the very things I usually find unpalatable in my novels are very deliberate devices intended to be tongue-in-cheek. I guess I should find Lost for Words hilariously ironic, but St. Aubyn’s subtle humor can’t make up for unredeemable characters and a lackluster plot.
Rating:
The Next Read 