THE END OF THE PARTY

Barrett's first novel (he's written other books) is accomplished through intermittently spaced pieces which pick up and attempt to put together the life of Dexter Hillyer, second-class portraitist, first-class sybarite, poseur and ""great American failure."" He is seen through the eyes of his godson, the narrator who saw Dexter at his brother's funeral when still a child; at sixteen in Paris where Dexter left him in the soft, knowing hands of his young mistress; and briefly again during Dexter's marriage to the only decent woman in his life. At the frayed end of it, Dexter's finally surrounded by a lot of degenerate faggots and a silent German caretaker who leaves one question mark--was he a chauffeur, or a baron? The spotty story travels from the Midwest to Europe to Southern California at a time when Biarritz or Cecil Beaton meant something. This is at best a Champale nostalgia trip--after all it's pretty difficult to make a man manque like Dexter Hillyer matter.