A novel in the form of a memoir of an extremely obnoxious
a##h##e. I’m guessing it’s harder than we think: to have the narrator prove his arrogance in
almost every paragraph yet be oblivious to how his audience is judging him. And
this is what makes The Columnist a fun read—catching every self-serving
rationalization, every twist of a knife told as stroke of fortune and every
conceited deceit disguised as innocent miscommunication. And the story itself?
We follow the career of Brandon Sladder from novice (but self-inflated,
nevertheless) reporter to influential (yes, and still self-inflated) columnist
and opinion-maker. Along the way Sladder uses all who would befriend him—girlfriends,
editors, secretaries, prostitutes and sources—dumping them when they were no
longer needed. The author works real people into the plot, but never makes it
explicit just which (if any) big shot columnist Sladder is modeled on. (The play based on the book does name Joseph Alsop as the satirical target.) Those old enough to remember the heyday of the
Lippmans, Alsops, Restons, Pearsons of the last century will especially enjoy
this book.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
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