THE MAN WHO LOVED DIRTY BOOKS

by David Guy ‧ RELEASE DATE: Sept. 22, 1983

In the opening pages of this second novel, it seems as if Guy is successfully following up his pleasant debut (Football Dreams, 1980) with more of the same: the uneasy Pittsburgh marriage of Matt and Laurel Gregg--he's an ex-cop/ex-teacher just starting work as a private investigator, she's a community-center therapist--is sketched in with likable, lifelike, gently amusing detail. All too soon, however, as Matt and Laurel broaden their sexual horizons, the novel goes wildly astray--eventually becoming a pretentious, laughably contrived mixture of prurient sexology, marriage-counseling, and murder-mystery. To start with, Laurel, who ""sometimes wondered how she had ever wound up with a wet rag like Matt,"" begins an affair with colleague Ned, discovering the joys of guilt-free open marriage. Meanwhile, Matt, working on his first routine assignment, just happens to run into old acquaintance Hugh Bollinger--a middle-aged pornography fancier who speedily entices Matt into the world of underground sex: he gets a sublime massage from prostitute Angel; later, he finds himself in the midst of a voyeur's orgy and hurries home, disgusted--only to find Laurel and Ned mid-fellatio. (""It was as if Matt had caught a glimpse not of his wife being unfaithful, but of a whole other world, an incomprehensible world, where Laurel went down on men, sucked them off."") And then Bollinger turns up murdered--just after showing his home-movies of friends caught in assorted sexual action (homosexuality, bestiality, etc.). So, for totally unconvincing reasons, Matt vows to solve this crime; he must view all the porno film-clips, looking for murder motives (with help from well-educated prostitute Angel); and, by the time the ho-hum culprit is identified, all this sexual freedom will have done wonders for the Matt/Laurel marriage. (They even have ""the famous simultaneous orgasm,"" after a violent sex-and-yak session featuring such lines as: ""I hate you for never letting me do what I want. Suck your tits hard. And lick your armpits. And fuck you with my tongue. And tickle your asshole."") Complete with graphic couplings galore, tedious speeches, and any number of poppsych clichÉs: a strangely dated let-it-all-hang-out wallow--and a sad misstep for a once-promising writer.

Pub Date: Sept. 22, 1983

ISBN: N/A

Page Count: -

Publisher: New American Library

Review Posted Online: N/A

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 1, 1983

Categories: FICTION