Name: smile??'s review of Less by Andrew Sean Greer
Item: Less
Rating: 5
Author: smile??

Andrew Sean Greer

WINNER OF THE PULITZER PRIZE FOR FICTION 2018 'You will sob little tears of joy' Nell Zink 'I recommend it with my whole heart' Ann Patchett 'I adore this book' Armistead Maupin 'Charming, languid and incredibly funny, I absolutely adored Arthur' Jenny Colgan 'Marvellously, endearingly, unexpectedly funny' Gary Shteyngart 'Bedazzling, bewitching and be-wonderful' New York Times Book Review 'A fast and rocketing read . . . a wonderful, wonderful book!' Karen Joy Fowler 'Hilarious, and wise, and abundantly funny' Adam Haslett 'Ideal for holiday reading' The Lady WHO SAYS YOU CAN'T RUN AWAY FROM YOUR PROBLEMS? Arthur Less is a failed novelist about to turn fifty. A wedding invitation arrives in the post: it is from an ex-boyfriend of nine years who is engaged to someone else. Arthur can't say yes - it would be too awkward; he can't say no - it would look like defeat. So, he begins to accept the invitations on his desk to half-baked literary events around the world. From France to India, Germany to Japan, Arthur almost falls in love, almost falls to his death, and puts miles between him and the plight he refuses to face. Less is a novel about mishaps, misunderstandings and the depths of the human heart.

Winner of the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction 2018

Less

smile??

Arthur Less. It could never be anyone else. From somewhere high above the earth, I began a plummeting descent. There was no air to breathe. The world was rushing in to fill the void where Arthur Less had always been. I hadn't known that I assumed he would wait there forever in that white bed below his window. I hadn't known I needed him there. Like a landmark, a pyramid-shaped stone or a cypress, that we assume will never move. So we can find our way home. And then, inevitably, one day — it's gone. And we realize that we thought we were the only changing thing, the only variable, in the world; that the objects and people in our lives are there for our pleasure, like the playing pieces of a game, and cannot move of their own accord; that they are held in place by our need for them, by our love. How stupid.

Still Arthur says nothing. And Robert says nothing; he knows the absurdity of asking someone to explain love or sorrow. You can't point to it. It would be as futile, as unconveyable, as pointing at the sky and saying, "That one, that star, there."

This insanity, the insanity of her lover, has her bewildered and hurt and incandescent. And yet what she has said — the lying brain — this is familiar; this has happened to him. Not exactly like this, not utter terrifying madness, but he knows his brain has told him things he has traveled around the world to forget. That the mind cannot be trusted is a certainty.

"What if one day you meet someone, Arthur, and it feels like it could never be anyone else? Not because other people are less attractive, or drink too much, or have issues in bed, or have to alphabetize every fucking book or organize the dishwasher in some way you just can't live with. It's because they aren't this person. This woman Janet met. Maybe you can go through your whole life and never meet them, and think love is all these other things, but if you do meet them, God help you! Because then: ka-blam! You're screwed. The way Janet is. She ruined our life for it! But what if that's real?"

"She told me she met the love her her life," Zohra says at last, still staring out the window. "You read poems about it, you hear stories about it, you hear Sicilians talk about being struck by lightning. We know there's no love of your life. Love isn't terrifying like that. It's walking the fucking dog so the other one can sleep in, it's doing taxes, it's cleaning the bathroom without hard feelings. It's having an ally in life. It's not fire, it's not lightning. It's what she always had with me. Isn't it? But what if she's right, Arthur? What if the Sicilians are right? That it's this earth shattering thing she felt? Something I've never felt. Have you?"

It feels possible that memory will never be finished with this moment.

His brain sits before its cash register again, charging him for old shames as if he has not paid before.

He kisses — how do I explain it? Like someone in love. Like he has nothing to lose. Like someone who has just learned a foreign language and can use only the present tense and only the second person. Only now, only you. There are some men who have never been kissed like that. There are some men who discover, after Arthur Less, that they never will be again.

There is his own distant youth, that daily humiliation of rinsing out your own good shirt and putting on your one good smile, along with the daily rush of newness: new pleasures, new people, new reflections of yourself.

It's a summer day, and I want to be wanted more than anything in the world.

Is there a pill for when the image of a trumpet vine comes into your head? Will it erase it? Erase the voice saying, 

? Erase the tuxedo jacket, or at least the face above it? Erase the whole nine years? Robert would say, 

. The work, the habit, the words, will fix you. Nothing else can be depended on, and Less has known genius, what genius can do. But what if you are not a genius? What will the work do then?

Maybe what you need at your age is a broken heart.

Something happened in that room, despite everything; something beautiful happened. It was the only place in the world where time made things better.

What a ridiculous person he was. What a terrible writer, to get caught up in a metaphor like this. As if it would reveal anything to Robert, signify anything about their love. It was just a ring lost in a bin. But he could not help himself; he was too attracted to the bad poetry of it all, of his one good thing, his life with Robert, undone by his carelessness. There was no way to explain it that would not sound like betrayal. Everything would show in his voice. And Robert, the poet, would look up from his chair and see it. That their time had come to an end.

I blush to think of the tangle of lines I made of him.

He wonders when their conversations had begun to sound like a novel in translation.

Brief flash to six years ago, seeing his silhouette in the theater and thinking:

 A man he almost stayed with, almost loved, and now he does not even recognize him on the street. Arthur Less is an asshole, or the heart is a capricious thing. It is not impossible both are true.

They might have done, many of them. So many people will do. But once you've actually been in love, you can't live with "will do"; it's worse than living with yourself.

Freddy had all of youth's passions; one could sit back with a bag of popcorn and watch the romances and comedies of his mind projected onto his face, and the lenses of his tortoiseshell glasses swirled with his thoughts like the iridescent membranes of soap bubbles.

A mediocre review or careless slight can no longer harm him, but heartbreak, real true heartbreak, can pierce his thin hide and bring out the same shade of blood as ever. How can so many things become a bore by middle age — philosophy, radicalism, and other fast foods — but 

Once, in his twenties, a poet he had been talking with extinguished her cigarette in a potted plant and said, "You're like a person without skin." A 

 had said this. One who made her living flaying herself alive in public had said that 

, tall and young and hopeful Arthur Less, was 

I’ve generally been enjoying this book, but wow the last two chapters especially have really elevated the entire narrative, as Less is forced to become more self aware and confront the root of his unhappiness and (relative) lack of success.

Bethany Jenkins

“Mr. Arthur, you are a writer,” the pastor says to him as they stand outside his house. “I want you to ask, Why? Everything that seems strange here, or foolish, ask, Why?”

“He does not add that the ruckus on his porch was unbearable, a party going on outside his windows. He could not concentrate for a moment on this new version of his book. Less was frustrated, so furious, he even considered checking into a local hotel. But he stood there in his little Keralan house, with its view of the ocean and the Last Supper, and pictured himself walking up to Rupali and saying the most absurd sentence of his life: 

I am going to check myself into an Ayurvedic retreat unless the picnicking stops!

 Rupali listens to his story about the picnic, nodding. “Yes, this is something that happens.”

He remembers the pastor’s advice. “Why?”

“Oh, the people here, they like to come up and look at the view. This is a good place for the church families.”

“But it’s a retreat…” He stops himself, then asks again: “Why?”

“Here, this special view of the sea.”

“It is—” She pauses, looking down shyly. “It is the only place. The only place the Christians can go.”

Less has gotten to the root of it at last, but again it touches something he cannot understand. “Well, I hope they had a good time. The food smelled delicious. And tonight’s dinner was delicious.” Less has realized that there is no refrigerator at the retreat center, so everything has been bought today at the street market or picked from Rupali’s garden; everything is fresh simply because it must be. Even the coconut has been hand shredded by a congregant named Mary, an old woman in a sari who smiles at him every morning and brings his tea. 

arthur less. it could never be anyone else

- the oldest and most intimate relationship i have with a favorite book. i've reread this more than all my other favorites combined and i love it more every time i pick it back up

- the masses don't want to believe it but no one writes about love the way andrew sean greer does. this is a generational post-breakup read

- most of my friends think this book is mid. while i've come to accept that arthur is not for everyone, he is most certainly for me

- when i say every character's role is important and deserves your attention, i really mean it. not a single scene, paragraph, or action is wasted in this novel, and you really see that in the final chapter

- it bears repeating just how sensational the quality of writing is from andrew sean greer. there's a small handful of people writing today that can craft a sentence that cradles your heart and soul before chucking them straight into a meat grinder the way this man does 

- arthur less. it could never be anyone else

- the oldest and most intimate relationship i have with a favorite book. i've reread this more than all my other favorites combined and i love it more every time i pick it back up

- the masses don't want to believe it but no one writes about love the way andrew sean greer does. this is a generational post-breakup read

- most of my friends think this book is mid. while i've come to accept that arthur is not for everyone, he is most certainly for me

- when i say every character's role is important and deserves your attention, i really mean it. not a single scene, paragraph, or action is wasted in this novel, and you really see that in the final chapter

- it bears repeating just how sensational the quality of writing is from andrew sean greer. there's a small handful of people writing today that can craft a sentence that cradles your heart and soul before chucking them straight into a meat grinder the way this man does 

Extremely insensitive and ignorant in ways only a white man can be

Eva Ströberg

As one of the passages in the book says: Who cares about the sad life of middle aged white gay man? 

I tried my best to finish the book, to lure out the sympathy for the 49-year old (just before his birthday, obviously) failed novelist who was pretty much feared everything in his life.

As the wedding invitation from an old flame came in the mail, he decided to take a trip around the world instead because he couldn’t simply face it.

What otherwise could be brilliant narration and interactions with other characters in the book along the journeys could be interesting and enchanting, they were just plain boring.

Maybe Pulitzer books aren’t just for me

Ryan Mateyk

arthur less is on the edge of 50 years old, fizzling professionally as a writer, single, gay, generally lost. when he receives a wedding invitation from his ex, he decides to accept every other invitation he receives over the same timeframe, from a book talk in mexico to a birthday celebration in morocco, from teaching a five-week course in germany to writing an article about kaiseki in japan, providing him an excuse to skip out on the wedding. along the way he reckons with his life and how, though it rarely turns out like we plan, can still be filled with joy and meaning and of course, love <3

i really loved this book. like really really! it's whimsical, sweet, incredibly smart and playful. BUT this book is like an ogre, which is to say it's like an onion, which is to say it has layers, people! for the most part, it was a fun and clever romp around the world, uniquely descriptive without being overwhelming in its descriptions, but within arthur's journey we are also treated to moments of extreme tenderness. it'll get ya right in the feels, i swear. 

arthur less is a great character. flawed to be sure, but amidst his... let's call it wallowing, he is shown such beauty. i wanted to smack him on the head and tell him to wake up to it all, but he comes around. and honestly, it's thanks to the handful of the most well-rounded minor characters that he finally does. from zohra, the moroccan birthday girl, to bastian, his brief german fling, to rupali, his host in india, the minor characters shared something special with less and as a result with the reader. i found myself making quite a few highlights along the way as i want to hold on to these nugz of wisdom.

This is a book about: nothing.
There is no plot, we follow a character which has no development going country after country and thinking of his past partners. Boring. There is nothing here, the writing is not bad but nothing remarkable, there is literally nothing that stands out in this for me. 

I guess the point of the author is that we can’t feel sorry for Arthur, as the narrator points out, but if there’s nothing happening apart from boring descriptions, the character doesn’t change and we can’t connect with the main character, what’s the point?

Jenny Qian

ash b

spent weeks on the first 50 pages but finished the next 200 in two sessions. what a delightful, funny, tenderhearted story. our protagonist’s memories being doled out as he travels the globe to avoid an awkward wedding of his ex-lover, his self-deprecating cynicism matched only by his hopeful innocence; i loved it all. complex relationships, beauty in mundanity, and a sense of humor about it all. unexpectedly sweet with a string of hope throughout all of the follies and anxieties.

Sarah Pitts

Kate

I don't know why this won a Pulitzer....... #dnf

Just not for me. It felt very stale and dry. The longer I read the more I found myself not caring what happens to the main character. But who knows I may re-read some day and enjoy it more. 

deacon

Quinn Tenorio

What an amazing book. I enjoyed the playfulness of the story and ridiculousness of it all. Greer really captures issues surrounding gay men. I couldn't help but laugh throughout the book and see the struggles Arthur Less went through. Bravo! I recommend to anyone looking for a ridiculously fun story and heartwarming as well.

kyra

** spoiler alert **
           Reading this book feels like having a long conversation with your best friend. Some depth, a lot of fun, a little bit of awkwardness, some surprising reveals, but both of you are going to remain the same people at the end of it.

-> Conversations with the side characters could have been more than just surface level thoughts.
-> I probably missed it, or it was possibly not the purpose of the book, but the lack of character growth in Less is slightly bewildering; it is possible that Greer wasn't going for a character development journey...

Excited for the sequel!

A Novel

Jule

This was nice and light in drama, lots of reflections on love, commitment, aging. An interesting trip and funny moments made this a good relaxing and fun read.

Omar

Receiving an invitation to his ex-boyfriend's wedding, Arthur, a failed novelist on the eve of his fiftieth birthday, embarks on an international journey that finds him falling in love, risking his life, reinventing himself, and making connections with the past.

Isabella

absolutely loved this book. review to follow

a novel

Lynn

This was lovely. Even though this book didn’t live up to its “funny” reputation, for me personally, it was a perfectly lovely read. The global trotting around looking for something that is waiting for you right at home, combined with the beautiful prose and capability of the author to paint a vivid picture with words made this worth the read. Surprisingly, a book for optimists and happy-ending-lovers.

Miguel Marqués Muñoz

Midori Kobayashi

story- all over the place
writing- trying really hard to be quirky™️
overall- boring and dry.
am i missing something or did this not feel pulitzer-y?

Nick Gracilla

Avoid the ache, embarrassment, and pain of loss and love by accepting every meaningless literary invitation in the drawer—Less regrets he cannot attend. So we as readers are taken on an untidy, beautiful, deeply flawed road trip, loosing luggage along the way, to finally understand that “happiness is not bullshit.” Highly recommended.

WINNER OF THE PULITZER PRIZE FOR FICTION 2018 'You will sob little tears of joy' Nell Zink 'I recommend it with my whole heart' Ann Patchett 'I adore this book' Armistead Maupin 'Charming, languid and incredibly funny, I absolutely adored Arthur' Jenny Colgan 'Marvellously, endearingly, unexpectedly funny' Gary Shteyngart 'Bedazzling, bewitching and be-wonderful' New York Times Book Review 'A fast and rocketing read . . . a wonderful, wonderful book!' Karen Joy Fowler 'Hilarious, and wise, and abundantly funny' Adam Haslett WHO SAYS YOU CAN'T RUN AWAY FROM YOUR PROBLEMS? Arthur Less is a failed novelist about to turn fifty. A wedding invitation arrives in the post: it is from an ex-boyfriend of nine years who is engaged to someone else. Arthur can't say yes - it would be too awkward; he can't say no - it would look like defeat. So, he begins to accept the invitations on his desk to half-baked literary events around the world. From France to India, Germany to Japan, Arthur almost falls in love, almost falls to his death, and puts miles between him and the plight he refuses to face. Less is a novel about mishaps, misunderstandings and the depths of the human heart.

Taylor

** spoiler alert **
           I’m a real sucker for a happy ending.

Kathy Jedrzejczyk

Siya S

/ he kisses—how do i explain it? like someone in love. like he has nothing to lose. like someone who has just learned a foreign language and can use only the present tense and only the second person. only now, only you. / 

this novel was… beautiful. i loved the prose, which is always the first thing i look for in a book. and it wasn’t just passable: it was lovely. so very lovely. i think that there’s a certain kind of grief that invariably accompanies aging—even at the relatively young age of seventeen, i worry—and the way greer explores something so delicate, and all of the intricacies of it, through arthur’s introspection is so relatable, and so vivid. i don’t think i’ve ever read a protagonist—except maybe theo—who’s so human, so vivid, as arthur less.

there’s so many lines that stand out to me, but especially 

we’re too old to think we’ll ever meet again

. there’s so much to love with the characters—zohra, javier, and, of course, arthur—and so much to feel: the gravity of aging and the gravity of relationships fallen apart and the gravity of being perceived all at once. and love. (after all, what could be more important than love?) I think we knew all along who the narrator was—who else could it be?—but the ending, oh the ending. anyway it is 4:04 am as i type this absolutely scattered and incoherent review that does not in the slightest do andrew sean greer justice. but i do think it is worth mentioning that this is the fifth book in four years to really impact me in any way. for what it's worth. 

/ he kisses—how do i explain it? like someone in love. like he has nothing to lose. like someone who has just learned a foreign language and can use only the present tense and only the second person. only now, only you. / 

this novel was… beautiful. i loved the prose, which is always the first thing i look for in a book. and it wasn’t just passable: it was lovely. so very lovely. i think that there’s a certain kind of grief that invariably accompanies aging—even at the relatively young age of seventeen, i worry—and the way greer explores something so delicate, and all of the intricacies of it, through arthur’s introspection is so relatable, and so vivid. i don’t think i’ve ever read a protagonist—except maybe theo—who’s so human, so vivid, as arthur less.

there’s so many lines that stand out to me, but especially we’re too old to think we’ll ever meet again. there’s so much to love with the characters—zohra, javier, and, of course, arthur—and so much to feel: the gravity of aging and the gravity of relationships fallen apart and the gravity of being perceived all at once. and love. (after all, what could be more important than love?) I think we knew all along who the narrator was—who else could it be?—but the ending, oh the ending. anyway it is 4:04 am as i type this absolutely scattered and incoherent review that does not in the slightest do andrew sean greer justice. but i do think it is worth mentioning that this is the fifth book in four years to really impact me in any way. for what it's worth. 

Sonja H

„Less“ von Andrew Sean Geer hat 2018 den Pulitzer-Preis gewonnen, eine Auszeichnung, der ich ehrlich gesagt wenig Beachtung schenken. Über dieses Buch bin ich eher zufällig im lokalen Buchhandel gestolpert und der Klappentext klang recht interessant.

Anfangs fiel es mir schwer, einen Einstieg in die Geschichte zu finden. Arthur Less ist fast 50, ein Mann und homosexuell Ich bin etwas über 40, eine Frau und hetero. Viele Gemeinsamkeiten gab es zwischen mir und dem Protagonisten nicht.

Dennoch ist mir Arthur im Laufe seiner Erlebnisse ans Herz gewachsen. Er ist ein sehr freundlicher, zurückhaltender und bescheidener Mensch, der allen anderen den Vortritt im Rampenlicht lässt und sich eher als Anhängsel bedeutsamer Leute sieht, jemand, der nur in Verbindung mit anderen Personen wahrgenommen wird, nie als er selbst.

Less hat außerdem, so sieht er es zumindest, kein Glück in der Liebe und als sein letzter Partner ihn für einen anderen verlässt, flieht er vor einer unangenehmen Situation, vor der Liebe und vor seinen Gefühlen. Doch wo immer er auf dem Erdball auch ist – seine Vergangenheit holt ihn überall ein, zwingt ihn dazu, sich mit seinem Innenleben auseinanderzusetzen und seine Leben aus anderen Blickwinkeln zu sehen.

Alles dreht sich in diesem Buch im Kreis: Vergangenheit und Gegenwart holen sich ein, Alter und Jugend, Verlassen- und Gefundenwerden.
Es ist eine sehr melancholische, aber liebevolle Erzählung mit einem sympathischen Charakter, dem zugegebenermaßen die Ecken und Kanten fehlen, aber er ist einfach ein bisschen „weniger“ als andere.

Eine nette, unaufgeregte Story für ein paar ruhige Lesestunden.

I had really hoped to like this book, but apparently my picks for the past couple months are not home runs lol. The prose is well done, but the story fell flat for me. Again, I had a problem with the pacing (which seems to be a running theme recently for the books I’ve picked up) and found myself wishing to dive a bit deeper into Arthur Less as a character. I didn’t get emotionally attached to him at all, but I really wanted to. The last thing that took me out of the book was the narrator and the POV that the book is written in. Sadly, this book wasn’t for me. 

smile?? &
Less by Andrew Sean Greer

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Less by Andrew Sean Greer