Don Carpenter was an American writer, best known as the author of Hard Rain Falling. He wrote numerous novels, novellas, short stories and screenplays over the course of a 22-year career that took him from a childhood in Berkeley and the Pacific Northwest to the corridors of power and ego in Hollywood. A close observer of human frailty, his writing depicted marginal characters like pool sharks, prisoners and drug dealers, as well as movie moguls and struggling actors. Although lauded by critics and fellow writers alike, Carpenter's novels and stories never reached a mass audience and he supported himself with extensive work for Hollywood. Facing a mounting series of debilitating illnesses, Don Carpenter committed suicide in 1995.
Some books stay out of print for a reason. I considered giving this a second star because I think there was a genuine attempt here to capture the chaos of divorce, from a mans perspective, and in that one goal I think Getting Off moderately succeeds. But it’s so icky by the end I didn’t give a fuck.
The first 100 pages (maybe even up to Chap 32) seems more “of it’s time” (1971 to be exact) but the end of the book is pocked with appalling misogynistic, racist, homophonic, statements that make it mostly a disgusting and disturbing read. I mean one of the characters that randomly gets introduced is called Captain Poon-Tang, who is obsessed with statutory rape. Yet somehow this is only mildly off-putting to the main character Plover and he kind of idolizes the guy anyway. Yuck.
When I read Carpenter’s Hard Rain Falling, I was shocked he wasn’t a bigger name in modern literature. Now I know why. If you read HRF and stumbled on this out of print piece of shit like I did, Skip it. I promise you it sucks.
Oh, my god. I didn't read this book expecting it to be good -- it's part of my quixotic exploration of white male novelists of the 70s -- but I didn't expect it to be this bad. A lot of bad behavior in this book from the white male protagonist, who is breaking up with his wife, but I couldn't quite figure out if my assessment of his behavior as "bad" comes from my perspective as a woman in 2022, or if the author himself would share that assessment. Because there were times that I thought that the author was either half admiring of the main character's behavior, or at least neutral about it. Or that this kind of behavior was absolutely unremarkable in 1971? Book sort of becomes awkwardly picaresque in the last half. I don't know what to say about this book really. It's racist, sexist, homophobic, agnostic on the subject of statutory rape (arguably). And after he and his wife separate, the main character still expects his wife to iron his clothes. AND SHE DOES.