My reading took a huge turn from the serious to the seriously fun over the past three days. Christopher Moore, an author I had never heard of until a chance conversation in a bookstore, takes on the subject of death in his novel A Dirty Job.
His wit, random social commentary, and hilarious characters are reminiscent of Tom Robbins, another favorite author of mine. This is not the type of book that is going to make you view the world in a different way, think about deep concepts (even though it does discuss the soul quite a bit,) or inspire new direction in life.
Instead, I think it does something few books do in the literary fiction canon I am so fond of: it gives pure enjoyment. It's not mindless enjoyment: you have to be paying attention to catch many of the little jokes sprinkled throughout, but following main character Charlie Asher through years of confusion and consternation about his new job as "Death Merchant" is the closest thing to racous enjoyment that a book could possibly provide.
If you so desire, then go ahead and stick your nose high in the air and read your hoity-toity literature. But know, that you're missing out.
As for me, I'm about to move on to some hoity-toity literature myself, gearing up to read J.M. Coetzee's latest book. But not before I reserve a few Christopher Moore books from the library...
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