Baby Got Books

The Ask

A few months ago, one of our reviewers (Shaft) posted a decidedly negative review of Sam Lipsyte’s latest novel The Ask. We both loved Lipsyte’s phenomenal Home Land, so it was a bit of a surprise to read his take on the follow-up. Since I knew he had a copy that he wouldn’t be sad to see go, I decided to take it off his hands. Where Shaft was left disappointed, I thought The Ask was a surprisingly deep and thoughtful effort. Our mileage varied considerably.

Our protagonist is Milo, a schlub whose one thing to look forward to each day is a turkey wrap from the place across the street from the mediocre New York City liberal arts college where he works in the development office. Milo loses his job (and ready access to turkey wraps) for several reasons, most notably for verbally attacking an overly entitled art student, whose dad happens to be a potential large donor to the school.

This failure sets Milo adrift and into a slow downward spiral. To his surprise, he is called back to the development office in the hopes that he can land one more big fish – a college friend Purdy. Now Milo’s future happiness seems to hinge on whether he can bring himself to ask a Brahmin from his past for a very large sum of money:

Purdy and Milo are thus thrown together, but Purdy has his own “ask” for Milo. Through their renewed and strained relationship Lipsyte explores a number of themes, not least of which is the role of class in American society. Purdy, representing the uber-wealthy strata, employs old classmates and is able to make things happen by merely requesting them. Milo, a struggling salaryman’s financial situation seems much more dire in comparison, but he in turn is seen in an enviable position to those that are lower on the socio-economic ladder. No one, it should be said, is entirely happy.

The Purdy/Milo & gang relationships also suggest that college is a specific window in life when otherwise rigorous social and class structures break down. The Ask notes that circumstance and proximity throw people together into illusory friendships that would never happen in the “outside” world. (Surely if Facebook has taught us anything, it is this.) It is ironic that Milo finds himself once again in a college, and among some of his old friends, and yet is the loneliest and most alienated that he has ever been in his life.

Child-rearing is a spot-on target of Lipsyte’s biting satire (pre-school pedagogy squabbles are a highlight). The standard bearer for the so-called “millennial” generation, Horace, is also ripe for parody. When Milo tries to smooth over a sexual harassment complaint filed by Horace (one of the reasons Milo was originally hired), the millennials’ reputed “whatever dude/can’t be bothered” attitude is on full display:

“Didn’t you complain about me?”
“Yeah I guess I did. But more like as a joke.”
“Did you make an official written complaint?”
“Yeah, but in a jokey way.”
“Those go on our record, Horace. Those are in our file. As soon as a company hires you they begin plotting the paper trail with which to fire you. Didn’t you know that?”
“Sort of.”

Horace always speaks in his own hipster-slang argot that Milo marvels over:

Horace’s swerves in diction always amazed. He once explained that like many in this country, he spoke several dialects: Standard American English, Black American English, American Television English, East Coast Faux Skater English, Foodie French, and Drug Russian.

I loved “listening” to Horace talk – absolutely one of my favorite characters. But I digress…

As Shaft noted in his review, The Ask is not generally the laugh-out-loud knee-slapper that Home Land was. The novel is overall much darker and world weary. It also has a lot more to say than Home Land did. Although a much more serious work, The Ask also serves up witty observations, wonderful dialog, and incredible word play, all while telling a poignant story. I really enjoyed this novel. Now you’ll have to read it to offer the tie-breaking review for Shaft and I.