Less (Arthur Less, #1)

by Andrew Sean Greer

Next morning: the coffeemaker in his hotel room is a hungry little mollusk, snapping open its jaws to devour pods and subsequently secreting coffee into a mug. The

Arthur please shut the fuck up it’s just a keurig

Less the gentleman, Less the author, Less the tourist, Less the hipster, Less the colonialist. Where is the real Less? Less the young man terrified of love? The dead-serious Less of twenty-five years ago? Well, he has not packed him at all.

My friends you might be thinking that this stream of consciousness is a product of many trials and tribulations that have forced the main character to reflect upon his life. BUT THAT WOULD BE INCORRECT My man is crashing out over the OUTFITS he packed for a long trip. Hey Arthur? Let me introduce you to Prozac.