Goodreads | The Sportswriter (Paperback) by Richard Ford

rating	frequency	%
5		22%
4		40%
3		23%
2		10%
1		3%

Wendy rated it:

(review of isbn 0394743253)

03/02/08

Read in March, 2008

The Sportswriter started out really strong for me - seemed thoughtful and familiar and American, a bit like Stegner's Crossing to Safety.

But after a while, say about 250 pages, I stopped finding the character thoughtful and subtle and started thinging he was kind of a boorish self-serving windbag. It didn't help that I'd rather have spent more time with his ex wife and children, who seemed charming, funny and smart, than his ditzy and unappealing girlfriend or his sadsack friends. I think I...more

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Roderick rated it:

03/26/08

Read in March, 2008

This book is way more depressing than the title has any right to lead you to expect. And it feels a lot like Updike's Rabbit series. It's interesting, if not at all important, that while the Rabbit series begins with Rabbit actually playing a sport, basketball, the Frank Bascombe series concerns itself with someone who isn't much of an athlete at all but who specializes instead in observing and writing about sports. Maybe Frank needs some exercise?

In any event, yes, it's really kind of de...more

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Gerry rated it:

06/26/07

There’s a scene in the first chapter of The Sportswriter that lays bare the novel’s heart. Frank Bascombe and his ex-wife—referred to as X throughout—arrive home from a night out to find their house ransacked. In making a list of the missing items for the police, X finds letters from another woman and demands to know who she is. Frank remains silent, and X, releasing the trapped fury created by the death of her son, her deteriorating marriage, and now the apparent infidelity of her husba...more There’s a scene in the first chapter of The Sportswriter that lays bare the novel’s heart. Frank Bascombe and his ex-wife—referred to as X throughout—arrive home from a night out to find their house ransacked. In making a list of the missing items for the police, X finds letters from another woman and demands to know who she is. Frank remains silent, and X, releasing the trapped fury created by the death of her son, her deteriorating marriage, and now the apparent infidelity of her husband, tears apart her hope chest and burns it in the fireplace.

“The burglars had left Polaroid pictures of the inside of our empty house scattered about for us to find when we got back from seeing The Thirty-Nine Steps at the Playhouse, plus the words, 'We are the stuffed men,' spray-painted onto the dining room wall. Ralph had been dead two years. The children were with their grandfather at the Huron Mountain Club, and I was just back from my teaching position at Berkshire College, and was hanging around the house more or less dumb as a cashew, but otherwise in pretty good spirits. X found the letters in a drawer of my office desk while looking for a sock full of silver dollars my mother had left me, and sat on the floor and read them, then handed them to me when I came in with a list of missing cameras, radios and fishing equipment. She asked if I had anything to say, and when I didn't, she went into the bedroom and began tearing apart her hope chest with a claw hammer and a crowbar. She tore it to bits, then took it to the fireplace and burned it while I stood outside in the yard mooning at Cassiopeia and Gemini and feeling invulnerable because of dreaminess and an odd amusement I felt almost everything in my life could be subject to. It might seem that I was within myself then. But in fact I was light years away from everything.”

The Sportswriter begins on Good Friday with Frank and X paying a graveside visit to their son Ralph and ends late Easter Sunday with Frank hitting on a college girl in his Manhattan office. The novel is the kind where not much happens, but everything that does rings of failure. There’s X burning her hope chest; Frank’s aborted interview with a paraplegic former footballer who believes he’s still on the team; Frank’s Easter day visit to his girlfriend’s parents’ house, where the father has assembled an entire car in the basement; the post office losing the only copy of Frank’s first novel. Then there’s Easter itself, a day in the real world where miracles never happen, no one rises from the dead, and sins remain unforgiven. Characters bump and jangle him, but Frank drifts on a lazy current he’s created, unaware of its source. It’s a careful look at a shell-shocked man who can fill hundreds of pages with insightful descriptions but never knows what to say to those who need him to say something, anything that will demonstrate his awareness of them.

Among its greatest virtues is its examination of the alien world of male friendship, one in which not even the natives fully understand the customs. Through The Divorced Men's Club, men linked by their inability to maintain close relationships, Frank meets Walter Luckett. Walter confides in Frank, hoping his confession will uncover a like mind. "He would like me to ask him a good telling question, something that will then let him tell me a lot of things I don't want to know," Frank says. "But if I have agreed to listen, I have also agreed not to ask. This is the only badge of true friendship I'm sure of: not to be curious."

Later, Frank is at the police station because of his tangential relationship to a crime. Speaking of the sergeant, Frank says, "He extends both his legs and crosses them at the ankles. It is his way of inviting conversation between menfolk, though I'm stumped for what to say. It's possible he would understand if I said nothing." And nothing is exactly what Frank is looking for in a friend....less

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Mike rated it:

08/20/07

Read in August, 2007

recommends it for: men

this book is basically a very introspective tale of an average middle aged man who is just as confused about the secrets of life as nearly anyone else out there. The main character is Frank Bascombe and in recent years his marriage has failed, his first son has passed away and his career as a novelist has fizzled. He now is a sportswriter and claims it to be his calling, but still, something is missing in frank's life and he doesn't know what it is.
Throughout the novel frank struggles with w...more

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Julia rated it:

06/12/08

Read in June, 2008

recommends it for: males

I lost this poor book under my bed back in '07 and just uncovered it. I think it goes to show how much I was enjoying it initially that I let it lie there for a good half year without trying to retrieve it.

But when I returned to the trials and tribulations of a near-forty year-old sportswriter in the 1980s, all of a sudden his dreamy, midwest-meets-Jersey language and sensitive yet overly-mysogynistic way of thinking really resonated with me and I enjoyed every last page. Yet I still wouldn'...more

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Nancy rated it:

(review of isbn 0394743253)

10/01/07

Read in January, 2000

just thinking about this book makes my chest ache. It's a little paperback, and yet it took me more than a year to read because I just - couldn't - take the pain. Ford has done something extraordinary with his protagonist, Frank Bascombe, a man of extraordinary depth and disillusion; a man who can build the highest, prettiest castles of understanding, while the terror that will crumble them stands at the screen door. Man, just writing this, I get that sinking feeling.

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Steven rated it:

(review of isbn 0394743253)

12/01/08

bookshelves: florida, suburban-angst, time-100

Read in November, 2008

While the material in this work is the typical and well-worn Rabbittesque tale of suburban angst set in New Jersey, instead of Pennsylvania, with a not exactly likeable protagonist named Frank Bascome, I enjoyed this work immensely. A book about embracing the mystery of life, trusting your instincts after you know how badly your instincts have proven to be, and about the inevitably of a relationships end when you do not share the same interests. Mostly, though, I loved the writing. Just a c...more
While the material in this work is the typical and well-worn Rabbittesque tale of suburban angst set in New Jersey, instead of Pennsylvania, with a not exactly likeable protagonist named Frank Bascome, I enjoyed this work immensely. A book about embracing the mystery of life, trusting your instincts after you know how badly your instincts have proven to be, and about the inevitably of a relationships end when you do not share the same interests. Mostly, though, I loved the writing. Just a couple beauties that I’ll share:

“Nothing in the world is as hopeful as knowing a woman you like is somewhere thinking about only you. Conversely, there is no badness anywhere as acute as the badness of no woman out in the world thinking about you. Or worse. That one has quit because of some bone-headedness on your part. It is like looking out an airplane window and finding the earth has just disappeared. No loneliness can compete with that. And New Jersey, muted and adaptable, is the perfect landscape to that very loneliness, it's other pleasures notwithstanding.”

“Another way of describing this is that it's the difference between being a literalist and a factualist. A literalist is a man who will enjoy an afternoon watching people while stranded in an airport in Chicago, while a factualist can't stop wondering why his plane was late out of Salt Lake, and gauging whether they'll still serve dinner or just a snack.”

“What's friendship's realest measure? I'll tell you. The amount of precious time you'll squander on someone else's calamities and fuck-ups.”

If you don’t like that sort of stuff, I got nothing for you.

The only criticism I would like to voice about this book, and it is a rather big one, are the various references to the Detroit Tigers and the 1984 baseball season. At times, and I believe I am not mistaken on this one; the author makes various references to the tremendous start of the Detroit Tigers season. The Detroit Tigers did indeed have a remarkable start to the 1984 season, but at best, that start during the Easter weekend was no better than five wins and zero losses. Just being a baseball enthusiast that bothered me a little bit.

Just as a side note, I have also placed this book within my “Florida” bookshelf. Ford has some tremendous lines about Florida, “coming to the bottom of the country provokes a nice sensation, a tropical certainty that something will happen to you here. The whole place seems alive with modest hopes. People in Florida, I've discovered, are here to get away from things, to seek no end of life, and there is a crispness and a rightness to most everyone I meet that I find likable. No one is trying to rook anybody else, as my mother used to say, and contrary to all reports. Many people are here from Michigan, the blue plates on their cars and pickups much in evidence. It is not like New Jersey, but it is not bad.” I love that paragraph and am impressed with how much he “gets” my home state in those few lines.

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Max rated it:

(review of isbn 0394743253)

01/16/08

Read in December, 2007

Richard Ford's writing snuck up on me in this book. In "A Piece of My Heart" I was grabbed by the style and story right away, but "The Sportswriter" is much subtler. By the time I was finished I was amazed by the very real and intense world Ford had created, with not much movement. Quite a feat.

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Will rated it:

(review of isbn 0394743253)

11/01/08

Frank Bascombe published a book once. He just never got around to writing another, veering off into the world of sportswriting. The Sportwriter shows us a week in Frank’s life in which he confronts the choices he has made as parts of his life are pared away and we are shown what has already been cut. He is divorced, with one child having died. His girlfriend is clearly inappropriate for him and that ends as well. A sort-of friend comes out and on to him, ending badly. We see his semester as a...more

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Madison Raasch rated it:

(review of isbn 0394743253)

09/29/08

bookshelves: currently-reading

Frank Bascome, protagonist of "The Sportswriter", has a big conflict of letting go of his past. After getting divorced from his wife, he still tells stories about her, but naming her only "X". He is also trying to find solitude and peace, even though he keeps trying to find companionship in a woman who is a busybody.
An occurring theme within this book is the politeness Frank gives to people whom he doesn't like so much. Even though he is very nice and tries to shoo them off...more

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Derek rated it:

09/23/08

If John Updike had written this book, it would have been titled Hedge Your Bets, Rabbit, Hedge Your Bets. In this novel, which reads like a series of letters to the editors of Penthouse (minus the juicy details), Richard Ford presents us with Frank Bascombe, a sportswriter who never seems to do any sportswriting, or much of anything for that matter. It's a shame that this first-person narrator is such a disappointment, because Ford's gift for detail is remarkable. He beautifully describes...more If John Updike had written this book, it would have been titled Hedge Your Bets, Rabbit, Hedge Your Bets. In this novel, which reads like a series of letters to the editors of Penthouse (minus the juicy details), Richard Ford presents us with Frank Bascombe, a sportswriter who never seems to do any sportswriting, or much of anything for that matter. It's a shame that this first-person narrator is such a disappointment, because Ford's gift for detail is remarkable. He beautifully describes New Jersey and modern American culture in memorable ways; it's people that he seems to struggle through.

The section where Frank visits the paraplegic ex-football star is the most illuminating, as it presents the dichotomy of a person being a verb or being a noun. Frank is by all accounts a noun (the book's not titled Sportswriting, after all) and the novel describes a number of things happening to Frank, none of which to appear to be because of him. He drifts between women (and there are plenty), finds himself waxing philosophic with men whose company he only sort of enjoys, and half-heartedly trying to establish a relationship with his children. But you never see Frank make any big decisions. He goes to the house of a deceased acquaintance, which is the closest we get to an exciting Frank, but just as easily leaves when he's told to.

His affections seem to sway too easily. There's his ex-wife, who he would get back with if he could. There's Vicki, who he would love to be with if she would have him. There's his old flame from when he was a college professor, who he calls on the off chance that she might want to sleep with him. But he lacks any real conviction for any of these women, and only drifts between them as their levels of disdain for him rise and fall. With such little conviction on his part (the conviction he exhibits is, in the end, only a contrivance), it's hard for the reader to care if he succeeds or fails in much of anything.

And then comes the deus ex machina, a 20-something blonde Catherine, introduced in the book's closing pages, who has tits like grapefruits (his words) and who inexplicably seems infatuated with Frank. Of course. Why not? She rides into the end of the novel, a preposterous male fantasy (attractive, intelligent, single) to fulfill Frank's preposterous, wishy-washy desires. And his old desires just as easily fall to the side, and he leaves everything without a hint of consequence. He even says that there will be time to spend with his kids; let's not let the fact of fatherhood get in the way of this tidy little ending. And of course, he's suddenly done mourning his son. But it's ridiculous to suggest that a woman (or even a change of scenery) can accomplish these things for Frank. He'll just as easily place his affections elsewhere when the opportunity arises. And who wants to read about a character like that when there seem to be no consequences, or at least consequences that he might care about?

I started off liking this book much more than I did by its ending. I'd be interested to read Independence Day only because I do think Ford is a gifted novelist. I just hope that his narrator has grown a backbone in the sequels....less

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Pat rated it:

(review of isbn 0099447096)

08/14/08

Read in August, 2008

recommends it for: middle aged white guys who may or may not like sports

This book won me over despite:
it's a middle-aged-white-guy-has-mid-life-crisis book.
I don't like sports much
It's slow. Nothing really happens.
It seems depressing.

Yet:
Ford has a great ear for dialog. When his characters speak it pulls you out of the interior world of Frank and into a very realistic world of how people actually are. But the narrative voice is equally as strong. The two voices seem at odds with each other but they actually compliment one another. I think the dialog (w...more

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Drew rated it:

(review of isbn 0394743253)

06/14/08

In some reviews in the front pages of this book, Frank Bascombe was described as a representation of "modern man" and that this book was an existential study of this condition. That's not the case. This book is very much about Frank Bascombe and his life, which does, however, paralell those of many baby-boomers. Richard Ford's writing is sharp and descriptive even as it is introspective. This book only gets three stars though. The message of this book was very repetitive. In fact, Ford...more

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Bethypage42 rated it:

(review of isbn 0394743253)

06/11/08

Read in June, 2008

This book, is so depressing that even I couldn't enjoy it. You can't spoil an already-rotten book, but here's to trying:

This book follows the protaganist through his weekend. Not an exciting, or important weekend, just any ole weekend.
During the long rambling observational prose, we come to learn that this man is so depressed he doesn't even know he's depressed. He has stumbled upon a life outlook that makes depression last forever, but keeps all emotions repressed: Sports Writing. his qu...more

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Mina rated it:

(review of isbn 0394743253)

07/10/08

Has a copy to sell/swap — Read in April, 2008

This was recommended by a trusted friend. The cover really drew me in--great typeface, hazy golf-green wash, simple design (not the one in the g.r. picture). The blurb touts the novel as the story of a divorcee sportswriter who aspires to the "within-ness" of professional athletes. He's a guy who suffers from a case of incurable "dreaminess." I like sports books (see: Matt Christopher) in general.

The protagonist is a sportswriter who couldn't care less about sports, a...more

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Mary rated it:

(review of isbn 0394743253)

09/02/08

bookshelves: gave-up

Read in August, 2008

recommends it for: "Rabbit" series fans

I can't believe I kept reading this for so long. He's a good writer, and there are some good parts, but I mostly wanted to "forget" the book on the subway. I gave up with about 60 pages left.

It's a weird coincidence that does The Sportswriter no help that I chose to read this right after reading The Accidental Tourist. They have, essentially, the same basic plot, but are handled so differently. Alice Hoffman says e...more

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Malcolm rated it:

(review of isbn 0394743253)

12/13/07

Read in July, 2007

recommends it for: disgruntled male suburbanites trying to get fiction published

Wha.. Wha.. What?! They're still publishing books about sad sack suburbanites flagellating themselves over their narrow, parochial lives and getting sordid thrills out of having extra-marital sex? Didn't Updike cover this territory with more style and grace in the sixties when it was fresh? The greatest disservice a book like this does is to make narrow, parochial self-flagellating suburbanites think there is a market for such tiresome musings when in fact an author could possess the talent o...more

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Catherine rated it:

(review of isbn 0394743253)

08/24/08

Read in August, 2008

The Sportswriter is the first in a trilogy about Frank Bascombe, a sportswriter living in New Jersey in the mid-'80s. It takes place over the course of an Easter weekend and, well, there's not much more to say about the plot than that.

I usually hate books like this, that is to say navel-gazy. I'm just so uninterested in reading about "tortured" middle class white people, especially when there's no plot involved. I have high disdain for people who are so caught up in themselves t...more

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Josh rated it:

(review of isbn 0394743253)

11/21/07

Read in November, 2007

Richard Ford's books have been catching my eye since I was in high school. I am glad I waited until now to read them, because I am sure that I would not have gotten the first one.

Frank Bascombe says toward the end of the book that he is a literalist. He views all of the events that happen from within himself, and in the Sportswriter, Ford gives readers the opportunity to spend an Easter weekend seeing how Frank, a divorced ex-novelist turned sportswriter living in a sleepy New Jersey suburb,...more

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Debbie rated it:

(review of isbn 0394743253)

09/08/07

Read in September, 2007

I am 2/3 through this book. I love Richard Ford's short stories and am reading this only because I want to read INDEPENDENCE DAY and thought I'd read this first.

It is a book of back story and exposition. Lots and lots of exposition. The voice is engaging, the writing great, and that is enough to keep me reading. The big problem with the pages and pages of ponderous thoughts on life etc is the fact that this protagonist used to be a writer and gave it up to be a sportswriter. So many of the...more

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