Got a two-in-one volume of Nathanael West's brief novels, Miss Lonelyhearts and The Day Of The Locust. Miss Lonelyhearts (1933) is the story of a writer saddled with the job of writing a newspaper's agony aunt column. The endless parade of human misery slowly drives him batty. And it's funny, in its black-hearted way. Very brief -- calling it a novel is really stretching the bounds. More of a character study. I can see how it would have had more impact in 1933 -- now, you can pretty much see the ending parading down 5th Avenue. The Day Of The Locust (1939) is longer, more complex and a terrific L.A. noir -- minus a crime plot. Eastern artist, Tod Hackett, migrates to Hollywood with lethargic ambitions to be a set designer. Instead he falls into the fringes of losers and drifters, developing a fascination for them. Characters bump around and interact with bruising results. More black-hearted and funnier than Miss Lonelyhearts. Though I'd like to kick Matt Groening for 'borrowing' Homer Simpson's name from the book. It's a real mood-breaker to have that yellow goofus repeatedly summoned up into your mind's eye -- that's what I get for not reading this years ago, I guess.
Posted by M.Ace at 03:32 PM, December 17, 2004.