Reviews

This is a dreary, expensive sequel to About Harry Towns . In 1972, the Washington Post called Harry ``unique, haunting, and completely memorable.'' When Harry reappears now at age 57, he is a second-rate screenwriter with an idea for a dog show. He likes to slip away from his comfortable suburban family for a night in the city: a little cocaine, a couple of porno flicks. He gets mugged in a hooker's bed. He almost wins an award. He's always working on a play. The highlight of his life is meeting Muhammad Ali at a urinal. The writing is ordinary, the language vulgar. Purchase only for readers who still remember Harry.-- Maurice Taylor, Brunswick Cty. Lib., Southport, N.C.

The titular subject of Friedman's 1972 About Harry Towns returns, older (57) but hardly wiser; in fact, Harry's honest bemusement at the workings of a world he no longer recognizes provides this uneven novel with its ripest comic moments. Despite a patient second wife and a new daughter, Harry finds that old habits die hard, especially when they include venturesome debauches with hookers and hoods in New York City. In Hollywood, Harry pitches screenplay ideas to studio executives whose healthy lifestyles and herculean work habits aren't part of the show biz world that he remembers. Even Harry's psychiatrist of 27 years seems suddenly out of joint, given to fainting spells and trips to the hairdresser. Though funny scene by scene, Friedman's portrait of Harry grows more scattershot and erratic as the novel progresses, detouring into the '50s for a witty depiction of a creative writing class, then returning to the present for a hasty resolution. Friedman's considerable gifts as a comic writer (he also wrote The Lonely Guy's Book of Life ) are never fully manifested here. (Sept.)