When The Atlantic Monthly celebrated its 150th anniversary by publishing excerpts from the best writing ever to appear in the magazine, in the category of the humorous essay it chose only four pieces—one by Mark Twain, one by James Thurber, one by Kurt Vonnegut, and Ian Frazier’s 1997 essay “Lamentations of the Father.” The title piece of this new collection has had an ongoing life in anthologies, in radio performances, in audio recordings, on the Internet, and in photocopies held by hamburger magnets on the doors of people’s refrigerators. The august company in which The Atlantic put Frazier gives an idea of where on the literary spectrum his humorous pieces lie. Frazier’s work is funny and elegant and poetic and of the highest literary aspiration, all at the same time. More serious than a “gag” writer, funnier than most essayists of equal accomplishment, Frazier is of a classical originality. This collection, a companion to his previous humor collections Dating Your Mom (1985) and Coyote v. Acme (1996), contains thirty-three pieces gathered from the last thirteen years.
Past winner of the Thurber Prize for American Humor; author of the nonfiction bestsellers Great Plains , Family , and On the Rez ; contributor to The New Yorker , Outside , and other magazines, Frazier is the greatest writer of our (or indeed of any) age.
Ian Frazier (b.1951) is an American writer and humorist. He is the author of Travels in Siberia, Great Plains, On the Rez, Lamentations of the Father and Coyote V. Acme, among other works, all published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux. He graduated from Harvard University. A frequent contributor to The New Yorker, he lives in Montclair, New Jersey.
I'd never thought of Ian Frazier as a humorist, since I associated his name much more consciously with books like "Family" and "The Rez" than with his occasional pieces in The New Yorker and elsewhere. The blurb on the back made it sound like he hovers somewhere between Mark Twain and the Archangel Gabriel in the pantheon, but I must say these pieces, though occasionally very funny, left me feeling he's been quite oversold. Part of the problem here is that New Yorker short humor pieces have become calcified as a genre. From Thurber through Woody Allen, Woolcott, Christopher Buckley, etc., there has come into being this template where a piece starts off with some random quote lifted from a magazine or something that struck the writer as funny, followed by a deadpan satire in the same genre as the source of the quote, for about one or one-and-one-half New Yorker pages' worth of text. Examples from this volume: a quote from Newsweek wondering aloud how much of the movie "Gladiator" is historically accurate, followed by a deadpan essay on how much of a Daffy Duck cartoon is accurate; or quotes about a coyote loose in Central Park, followed by a parody of "Catcher in the Rye" as narrated by a coyote wandering around Central Park. Thurber used this template sparingly, and always brilliantly, and possibly invented it, but there has been an explosion of it. Not all the pieces in this volume are from this template, but enough are that one notices and in the space of this thin volume it all starts to sound tired. This is chewing gum for the eyes, which is what "Shouts and Murmurs" in The New Yorker is supposed to be; you're supposed to chuckle, maybe even snort or guffaw, and then turn the page to the next article and not remember it five minutes later. (A lot of Thurber was chewing gum for the eyes--and there's nothing wrong with that, since he was a genius at it; Frazier isn't.) Also, the funniest piece in this book by far, the title piece, which is a father sternly lecturing his toddler on table manners, in the format of the King James translation of the Book of Leviticus, is put at the beginning, which is a mistake. Don't publishers take any lesson from producers of old vinyl albums, who always put something uptempo but NOT the best song first, and then leave the absolutely best cut for the beginning of side B? Another complaint: I was disturbed by a "Shouts & Murmurs"–template piece beginning with a quote from Jerry Falwell's autobiography about how his father killed and skinned a cat as a prank and continuing with more carrying-on in the same Falwellian voice, replete with bigoted, ignorant, and violent-minded comments. Please note, Mr. Frazier: this piece does not sound like a parody of Falwell. It sounds, depressingly, like Falwell. Approximately a quarter of the population of the U.S. are pigs who "think" like this. It is possible to approach the topic of fundamentalist bigotry with humor--Jon Stewart and The Onion do it on a daily basis--but this piece fails. How could a writer who produces very funny (though not quite genius-level) pieces so regularly be so utterly tone-deaf in this instance, and why in God's name did the publishers include it in this volume? That is all.
Book of mostly-satirical essays, some of which are laugh-out-loud funny and some of which miss me. My favorite is the title essay, "Laws Concerning Food and Drink; Household Principles; Lamentations of the Father," which had us weeping with laughter. The Cursing Mommy chapters are pretty funny, too. "The New Poetry" does an English major's heart good, finishing old classics with lyrics from modern songs ("At once a voice arose among / The bleak twigs overhead...Hunh! Hotpants!"). I could also identify with "If Memory Doesn't Serve," where he admits to mixing up similar-sounding names or similar-looking people, since I do the same thing and rarely can tell Sarah Jessica Parker or Jennifer Anniston apart, either.
I thought a handful of the essays in this book were laugh-out-loud funny, and the title essay is brilliant parody. Many of the essays just didn't do it for me at all so overall it was hit and miss.
Another book club selection. Wow, what a joy to be in this men's BC group.
For some reason, although this doesn't concern the quality of this interesting set of essays, the posted price on this beautiful little hardcover jewel is $22.00, but my invoice from the book seller was $29.99 plus shipping and tax for $36.46. Hmmm. But on to the review:
Frankly I had never heard of Ian Frazier, but he's written eight books and writes in The New Yorker (to which I subscribe and read). He must be an absolute card. These essays are an average of about five or six pages in length (there are thirty-six in 194 pages) and I loved some, was meh on others, and would throw out several immediately. But they are SO different that it's amazing a single person wrote them all.
The "Title Essay" is a nearly endless list of demands by a father, to the point of both humor and ad-nauseam. But as original as all get-out, as all of them are. I especially liked four of them, with one clinker and some rather raw profanity in one of them. The one on male erections is an example of ..... hmm, originality. The cursing Mommy Christmas is very strange. Ugh. Mr. Frazier must be a fascinating character to have a cocktail party discussion with.
The title piece, "Lamentations of the Father," was excellent; in fact, I laughed out loud. Not all of the other essays were as applicable or even understandable to me. Some of the cultural and popular references are a bit dated now, but it was worth the read for the ones that were more timely.
Funny and clever. Love the style switches. The first couple of essays are written in Genesis style. The best ones are the pseudo-journalistic ones. They serve to poke fun at both the subject and the journalists.
Having read On the Rez a few years ago, I was excited to read Ian Frazier's newest book of essays. I was underwhelmed. Mr. Frazier used, and reused, the conceit of mock articles, news reports, and the like. Done well, this is Monty Python's Flying Circus or The Onion. In these essays, it was overused, which caused the later essays to be less entertaining than the earlier ones through boredom. It was overall uneven and not clever enough for its intent. That said, there were some very funny bits. From "The American Persuasion", which suggested the Founding Fathers' key diplomatic ploy was a free and open attitude about sex. "This newly minted person, the American, was an independent fellow - bold, forthright, deeply aware of how he looked and smelled, and unashamed of his sensuality...He believed in freedom, wife swapping, couples sex, and the rule of law, and he clearly embodied many of these beliefs in a noble document, the Constitution." Another essay describes the U.S. as this totally fictional place where we go all over the world bombing countries into democracy. [Randy pilots an air bomber.] "People did not appreciate how hard dedicated airmen like Randy had to work...Half of the places the press didn't even bother to report on anymore. Like the morning Randy bombed the Dominican Rebpublic and the island of Dominica, in order to get them to make their names less confusing. That had been Randy's idea, done on his own initiative...when the president heard about it through the grapevine, he just said it seemed like a good idea to him."
Ian Frazier’s book of humorous essays is similar to books I’ve read by Steve Martin and Woody Allen, except that Frazier offers a more gentle and humane view, one more understated than vaudevillian. All of the essays offer the reflections of a modest and reflective man about the foibles which infect himself and others, with a nonjudgmental attitude, except through the reader’s reaction to irony or understatement.
Two essays caused me to react with more than a smile or a laugh of recognition. “Kidproof” is the story of a father who recounts the feelings of any parent who is struck by the miracle of having a child. Except that the narrative slowly reveals that he is estranged from the child’s mother, and is physically avoiding any concrete contact with the child. As soon as I understood the premise, I felt utter contempt, no doubt because of my own life choices. Another reader might have felt pity. I have known fathers like that.
Another essay takes off from a quote from Jerry Falwell’s autobiography, in which Falwell casually describes some cruelty his father committed not to Falwell himself, but to an employee. Where Falwell minimizes the incident, Frazier exaggerates the rationalization, casting Falwell’s moral judgment in a damning light.
Many of the essays make fun of Frazier’s own idiosyncracies, showing them in a universally human light, and revealing a modest and self-effacing man. Disclosure: I know the author through my church, and I find him to be as unassuming and understanding as he comes across in his writing.
I look at Ian Frazier's Coyote Vs. Acme as one of my all time favorites. It's hilarious, unpredictable, fresh, original and sharp. I was hoping for more of the same from "Lamentations of the Father," but instead got what felt like retreads and attempts to recapture what made the older writing great.
As writers get older, sometimes their writing gets older too. Their focus in life goes to kids, middle age issues, maturity, and their writing reflects that as well. Here, Frazier mentions his kids frequently and takes his inspiration from middle aged dad sort of things. And it shows. It almost sounds like Andy Rooney stuff, of a man whose own little world demands so much attention that he can't write about anything outside of it.
That's a little harsh, there's still plenty of funny stuff here. The title essay was brilliant: A father instructing his children as to house rules, but in a very familiar style ("Of the beasts of the field, and of the fishes of the sea, and of all foods that are acceptable in my sight you may eat, but not in the living room...Heed me; for if you sit like that your hair will go into the syrup. And now behold, even as I have said, it has come to pass.") A mock travel essay that goes into a little too much detail was also brilliant. But most of the book just kind of meanders, and tries the same theme over and over again. And they just don't feel as incisive, as non-sequiter, as funny as the previous material did.
I'd read a couple of Frazier's pieces during grad school--"Bags in Trees," "Hogs Wild"--and decided, in a sudden fit of online-retail spontaneity, to buy this collection, and I admit I didn't know what exactly I was buying.
That being said, it all worked out okay. _Lamentations of the Father_ is a collection of first-person satire, and it took me a while to get into the rhythm of a new comedic narrator each time I started an essay. But I chuckled a bit. Some of the essays just weren't my thing, but others I'd read again for their fresh voice and frank scrutiny--among them "Kisses All Around," "Laws Concerning Food and Drink," "Little House off the Highway," "Techno-Thriller," "Everlasting," and "Here to Tell You." Frazier is a sharp observer, and while most of this book was a one-time experience for me, Frazier himself will be an author I continue to look for as I go late-night book shopping in my office.
I will admit I checked this out thinking it would be children's book with one short story and was surprised it was filled with many essays. Not all of them as entertaining as the one I checked it out for which was the title. I'd heard Isiah Sheffer read it on Selected Shorts on NPR and just about died laughing and had to read it to my kids and reading groups. It is most definitely worth getting just for that one story. Or if you wanted I'm sure you could find a recording of Isiah reading it if you tried, I haven't so I don't know. His reading is flawless and will make you laugh more than if your read it yourself though. I know I didn't as many laughs reading it as I thought I would. Anyway I'm babbling now... Just get it and see what you think.
Update: I ended up returning this book to the library unfinished. The book just didn't seem to hold up to its promise, and I found myself going, this isn't that funny and doesn't make sense, not as relatable as I thought it'd be. And I had some better options come in on hold at the library, so I abandoned it for now. I'm still curious as to whether it could have had some more funny parts, but at the time, it wasn't worth it to find out.
Original: I'm reading this book after seeing a video reading of an excerpt from the book. I'm probably going to read it just at home, because if I laugh as hard with the essays as I did with the excerpt, I will embarrass myself.
I loved the title essay, and Cursing Mommy is always a hoot. Several of the other essays were worth a read; I particularly enjoyed "Caught," a parody/homage to Catcher in the Rye, as well as "Downpaging," a series of mock quotes by Americans about how they've saved money by not buying books, inspired by a piece from the Daily News titled, "Ten Sure Ways to Trim Your Budget." Many of the essays are now dated, which took away some of their zing. I got a taste of his style, and for that I'm glad I persevered.
The essay collection makes for ok reading when taking short trips on buses, trains, or in taxis. Some of the essays are full of depth and thought, others are humorous. If you haven't lived in the US in the times these essays were written, it might be hard to understand what Frazier is even talking about, as he references many then-current political events and personalities. There were a few good essays, and most of them average. Frazier has a certain kind of writing and humor, and either you like it or you don't.
I heard an interview with the author regarding this book and was very excited to read it. The first chapter (article) was wonderful. He writes to his children using Old Testament language regarding eating in the living room and finishing their food so they can have dessert. Very funny. However, the rest of the book contains different articles written using various writing styles. Some are crude and offensive. I hoped for more like chapter 1. . . . abandoned.
I found exactly two of these essays hilarious, and actually read only partially about 50% of the rest because I just wasn't getting it. The title essay hit spot-on-target many of my own parenting experiences, so much so that I had an out-loud dramatic reading of the "On Screaming" portion to my don't-let-the-foods-touch-each-other 16-year-old. I was otherwise underwhelmed and so disappointed when the rest of the book didn't live up to my hopes based on those early pages.
There were some very funny chapters in this short book of essays. I really liked the title essay and also the swearing mommy chapters, especially the swearing mommy putting up the Christmas tree. The half I liked made it worth it to read the whole thing. There were a few that I just didn't quite get but that's OK.
Ian Frazier wrote one of my favorite nonfiction New Yorker pieces ever, about the nonsense of plastic bags, so I looked forward to reading this book. But once I started thumbing through, I discovered it's less 15 pages about trains and more "Shouts & Murmurs," which are funny and witty but always just a hair above my comprehension. So I probably won't relish it. Bummer.
This book was popcorn—a volume of five-page humor pieces collected over fourteen years of Frazier's career. A few were mediocre, but most were quite witty and some had me in tears of laughter. Especially the title piece, which you can read here.
Witty and intellectual. Sometimes I did not understand the political references well enough to fully appreciate the humor. But if I understood the context, the essays were hilarious and thought-provoking. And his Lamentations, biblical instructions to toddlers on the rules of the house regarding food and drink, had me sobbing with laughter.
One of my high school English teachers gave my class an essay of Ian Frazier's to read, and I don't think I've read any of his work since. Recognized the name when I saw this, though, and enjoyed most of the essays. He comes at subjects from an angle that you just don't quite expect...
I scanned through quite a few of these essays looking for those that did not bore me, so it was a quick read. The title essay is cute and may be appreciated by stay-at-home dads everywhere, but that's the best I can say for this one.
Very fun! The titular essay is by far the most laugh-out-loud-inducing. But many throughout the collection had me in a perpetual smile and almost-riotous laughter all the way through. The essays are short and so this is an easy book to have at your bedside to pick up in between books.
Uneven. The title essay is laugh out loud tears rolling down the cheek funny, and some others are quite good. I'd say at least half left me cold, though. In fairness, maybe they'd be better one at a time in their original magazine format, rather than being read one after another.
- a companion to his previous humour collections "Dating Your Mom" and Coyote v. Acme" (both of which I loved) - this collection of 36 essays range from 'smiling funny' to 'laugh-out-loud funny' (seriously) - not a single dud in the book