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422 pages, Kindle Edition
Published May 27, 2025
I'm really straining for the proper words to describe Steve Martin's writings here. Maybe an example? I stuck a Post-It next to this paragraph, which describes a New York City party attended by Mirabelle, the heroine of Steve's novel Shopgirl:
As the evening loosens, confounding the normal progress of a party, the conversations gel into one, and the topic, rather than jumping wildly from politics to schools for kids to the latest medical treatments, also gels into one. And the topic is lying. They all admit that without it, their daily work cannot be done. In fact, someone says, lying is so fundamental to his existence that it has ceased to be lying at all and has transmogrified into a variant of truth. However, several of them admit that they never like, and everyone in the room knows it's because they have become so rich that lying has become unnecessary and pointless, Their wealth insulates them even from lawsuits.
What do you think? Not exactly laugh-out-loud funny, right? But it is (I think) witty and sharply observed. That's probably as close as I can get to a book description. While adding in that the book often leans toward the offbeat and ludicrous.
The book collects some previous work, including two novels, Shopgirl and The Pleasure of My Company.
I had previously read Shopgirl in pre-blog days. It's the story of Mirabelle, who sells gloves at the Neiman Marcus in Beverly Hills. She has artistic aspirations, but her life is otherwise pretty barren. Until she meets Ray Porter, a rich but lonely businessman. The rise and eventual fall of their relationship is chronicled. As mentioned above, it's rarely laugh-out-loud funny, although one bit revolving around mistaken identity is pretty good.
I found The Pleasure of My Company to be more accessible and interesting. The protagonist, and first-person narrator, is Daniel Pecan Cambridge, living in a downscale Santa Monica apartment, and sufferer of some pretty serious neuroses. For example, he cannot navigate curbs. To cross a street in his neighborhood, he has to find two driveways exactly lined up on either side. He has obsessions: magic squares, counting ceiling tiles, making sure the illumination in his apartment is a certain wattage. He's somewhat obsessed with three women: Clarissa, a shrink-trainee who comes periodically to (unsuccessfully) counsel him; Dorothy, a real estate agent trying to lease apartments in the complex across the street; and Zandy, who works at the pharmacy he frequents. Of these, only Clarissa knows Daniel exists. Although that changes as the book progresses.
Interspersed with the two novels are some short pieces, some old (and published in the New Yorker), and some not previously published. These are often bizarre. Example: "Shouters" imagines people who (unrequested) follow people around and shout works of literature at them. Like "Airport" or "Being and Nothingness". Okay. Glad Steve didn't expand that into a novel!