Imogen's Reviews > The Lizard Club

The Lizard Club by Steve Abbott
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Sep 02, 08

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Read in August, 2008

I feel weird about this book because- in a very meta way- the way I feel about it has a lot more to do with its cultural context than it does with its actual content. As in, this book is annoying. It's glib pomo nineties bullshit where entire chapters are devoted to things like the results of a survey he sent out to a bunch of other glib early nineties artist types. And when he's actually telling the story, it's only occasionally very interesting- like a kind of gayer, shorter Pynchon.

So why not just hate it? Part of it is because he died from AIDS in 1993. Well, not that in itself, but that, this is a product of the culture of gay men who were dying of AIDS back then, this bleak kind of what the fuck place, you know? In that context I'm sure everything seemed pointless and stupid and might-as-well-write-about-nothing. So with that context it makes a lot more sense, and makes me want to love it.

Then I swing back though, and I'm like, a lot of the embarrassing things I did in the mid-to-late nineties when I was in high school- half a decade after this book was cutting edge- are based on the, like, legitimacy of meaninglessness, that this book is about. So I have this visceral, negative reaction to it.

THEN I SWING BACK AGAIN because not only does Kathy Acker blurb it, but her books are in the text itself. More than once.

Oh Kathy Acker. I can only trust one person in this world and she died of breast cancer in 1997.

Anyway, so... yeah. A weird artifact of its time, I guess?
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