Given the price of gas and food, everyone is concerned with spending habits. I have a suggestion for saving 25 dollars - donít buy this book! I have no excuse; I read it. Examining my motives for continuing with each chapter, I kept waiting to get past the supposed sarcasm (satire?) and discover a plot.
But the first 100 pages did little in service to the book, an endless self-congratulatory narrative by protagonist Jason Harrow, a married Midwestern man with three children who has found religion and purpose after a misspent youth of drug abuse and perverse sexual peccadilloes.
The arrogant Harrow has much to say about todayís world and the warped values of the Nanny State (this is the part that masquerades as satire), but it is so over-the-top that the text is painful to read. The result is an extremely unlikable protagonist who speaks in Capital Letters: The End of Civilization As We Know It. The Scene. The End of the World.
When a girlfriend from the past calls asking his help, Jason lies to his wife and returns to New York City, ostensibly to take care of his deceased motherís estate. The ex wants him to counsel her wild teenaged daughter and states an uncomfortable truth when Jason balks.
Before we know it, Harrow is hip-deep in the possible murder of a college student, confronting a radical professor, drinking with a broken-down TV actor, and unearthing a macabre terrorist plot. And Harrow is the only one who can save the country from disaster, all tied up in a happy ending!
I am not very familiar with this author, but the extremes of this novel are patently ridiculous, straining credulity at the best of times. All of the characters are stereotypes, but Harrow is The Worst Thing Ever. This is a really terrible novel, and I highly recommend saving your money. I should have.