Painful. Agonizing. Excruciating. These words come to mind when describing my sojourn through Michael Levy’s debut novel “Twenties Talk: The Unpaved Road After College.” With graduation looming near, I had been anxious to begin the manifesto, written by a high school teacher and graduate of the University of Michigan. I was looking for instruction on how to begin the rest of my life, but instead came up with some advice of my own for Levy: don’t quit your day job.
In the novel, Levy describes protagonist Michael’s dissatisfaction with mundane office life. During a weekend in Vegas with his brothers, he decides to enter a poker tournament. By winning $9,000 Michael is able to quit his job and travel around Southeast Asia for 6 months, where he makes a connection that lures him into a teaching career.
Unfortunately the novel is so bogged down with pointless anecdotes it is hard to see what the meaning, if any, is of it all.
In chapter one, Levy successfully beds a “sexy brunette” by explaining the rules of football in terms of sex. By chapter 16, when he uses a dog to pick up a “cute and sexy” girl in Thailand, his antics are tired. His constant analogies, such as comparing the remote to the ring in “Lord of the Rings,” may be funny to his friends and family, but in reality leave much to be desired.
In fact, the novel reads like an advertisement for Levy’s favorite products at times. The author devotes chunks of the book to the merits of Sports Illustrated, California Pizza Kitchen and the Hard Rock Casino. Are these companies paying Levy to be mentioned? If so, I advise them to get their money back and sue for liability as soon as possible.
My eyes glazed over as I struggled through chapter 12, a description of Michael’s high school backyard basketball tournaments. While one-on-one games are something many of us may be familiar with, Levy offers nothing original to say on this phenomenon.
But the biggest reason to stay away from this work is the banal dialogue. Quotes like “I’d take the average Victoria Secret’s girl over the hottest Playboy girl any day of the week” make the novel read like its author is a horny 13-year-old boy.
Even Levy’s description of corporate America comes across as contrived. Anyone who has seen “Office Space” is already privy to tricks on how to get through the day by doing the least amount of work.
Everybody has got a story to tell. Luckily, not all of us do. Cheesy dialogue, amateur prose, weak character development and minimal plot ? every aspect of Levy’s novel is lacking. If he truly wants to be a writer he needs to go back to square one and learn the fundamentals. Instead of gaining insight on post-collegiate life, I’ve now lost two hours forcing myself through this incoherent garbage rather than spending it looking for jobs.
Grade: D
