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The Cheese Monkeys: A Novel in Two Semesters
After 15 years of designing more than 1,500 book jackets at Knopf for such authors as Anne Rice and Michael Crichton, Kidd has crafted an affecting an entertaining novel set at a state university in the late 1950s that is both slap-happily funny and heartbreakingly sad. The Cheese Monkeys is a college novel that takes place over a tightly written two semesters. The book is set in the late 1950s at State U, where the young narrator, has decided to major in art, much to his parents’ dismay. It is an autobiographical, coming-of-age novel which tells universally appealing stories of maturity, finding a calling in life, and being inspired by a loving, demanding, and highly eccentric teacher.
288 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2001
83 people are currently reading
2636 people want to read
About the author
Chip Kidd
70 books288 followersChip Kidd is an American author, editor and graphic designer, best known for his innovative book covers.
Born in Reading, Pennsylvania, Kidd grew up in a Philadelphia suburb, strongly influenced by American popular culture. While a design student at Penn State, an art instructor once gave the assignment to design a book cover for Museums and Women by John Updike, who is also a Shillington native. The teacher panned Kidd's work in front of the class, suggesting that book design would not be a good career choice for him. However, Kidd later received professional assignments to design covers for Memories of the Ford Administration and other books by Updike.
Kidd is currently associate art director at Knopf, an imprint of Random House. He first joined the Knopf design team in 1986, when he was hired as a junior assistant by Sara Eisenman.
Publishers Weekly described his book jackets as "creepy, striking, sly, smart, unpredictable covers that make readers appreciate books as objects of art as well as literature." USA Today called him "the closest thing to a rock star" in graphic design today, while author James Ellroy has called him “the world’s greatest book-jacket designer.”
Born in Reading, Pennsylvania, Kidd grew up in a Philadelphia suburb, strongly influenced by American popular culture. While a design student at Penn State, an art instructor once gave the assignment to design a book cover for Museums and Women by John Updike, who is also a Shillington native. The teacher panned Kidd's work in front of the class, suggesting that book design would not be a good career choice for him. However, Kidd later received professional assignments to design covers for Memories of the Ford Administration and other books by Updike.
Kidd is currently associate art director at Knopf, an imprint of Random House. He first joined the Knopf design team in 1986, when he was hired as a junior assistant by Sara Eisenman.
Publishers Weekly described his book jackets as "creepy, striking, sly, smart, unpredictable covers that make readers appreciate books as objects of art as well as literature." USA Today called him "the closest thing to a rock star" in graphic design today, while author James Ellroy has called him “the world’s greatest book-jacket designer.”
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 673 reviews
June 4, 2008
I just glanced at some earlier reviews from readers to make sure I didn't miss something on this one, and the second review I saw (from Billy) perfectly described my reaction to this novel. It's about 270 pages, the first 220 or so of which are incredibly entertaining and among the few times I've enjoyed an author's attempt at rendering life in the college scene.
Then, as things are rolling beautifully along, the bottom falls out of this book, and the whole plot spirals out of control. Indeed, beyond the dark events themselves that begin to transpire, the reader is thrown into a rambling narrative told by the now exceedingly sleep-deprived main character. When I finished, I just felt lost, like I had been bicycling along a lovely road and enjoying the scenery and stopped to look up only to find that I was actually in a foreign industrial shipping yard and my back wheel had just broken in half.
One unrelated point that I struggled with: the action in this book takes place in 1957-58. You only know this, though, because it says so in the table of contents. Nothing in the story (besides maybe references to the price of ice cream or phone calls) evidences the states time frame. Indeed, I often had to stop myself from thinking of State U. with an image of modern-day college life (a la my own, more recent college experience) and try to picture it in front of late-50's scenery. For no particular reason, this dumb issue echoed in the back of my head as I read the book, which took away from my overall experience. I wish Kidd had just left the date unidentified and let the reader enjoy a fuller experience of the scenes.
There you have it. A bit over 200 pages of entertaining, laugh-out-loud, well-written novel; one stupid issue nagging at the reader; and an ending that will leave you dumbfounded and (if you're like me) disappointed at the failed promise of this book.
Then, as things are rolling beautifully along, the bottom falls out of this book, and the whole plot spirals out of control. Indeed, beyond the dark events themselves that begin to transpire, the reader is thrown into a rambling narrative told by the now exceedingly sleep-deprived main character. When I finished, I just felt lost, like I had been bicycling along a lovely road and enjoying the scenery and stopped to look up only to find that I was actually in a foreign industrial shipping yard and my back wheel had just broken in half.
One unrelated point that I struggled with: the action in this book takes place in 1957-58. You only know this, though, because it says so in the table of contents. Nothing in the story (besides maybe references to the price of ice cream or phone calls) evidences the states time frame. Indeed, I often had to stop myself from thinking of State U. with an image of modern-day college life (a la my own, more recent college experience) and try to picture it in front of late-50's scenery. For no particular reason, this dumb issue echoed in the back of my head as I read the book, which took away from my overall experience. I wish Kidd had just left the date unidentified and let the reader enjoy a fuller experience of the scenes.
There you have it. A bit over 200 pages of entertaining, laugh-out-loud, well-written novel; one stupid issue nagging at the reader; and an ending that will leave you dumbfounded and (if you're like me) disappointed at the failed promise of this book.
September 3, 2007
I read this years ago but I've still got my copy sitting proudly on my bookshelf as it is signed by Chip Kidd himself, whom I met at a reading he did in Dallas shortly after the book hit the shelves. Kidd is best known for his work as a graphic artist, specifically book cover art. His biggest client is John Updike, even though I'm pretty sure Updike says he hates Kidd's writing. Chip Kidd's best-known cover is probably for Michael Crichton's Jurassic Park, the logo of which ended up on the movie adaptation's poster and lunch pails across adolescent America back in 1993.
The Cheese Monkeys is an easy read and does a good job of explaining the feeling of one's soul being destroyed in the name of art, education, maturation. One of my favorite elements of this book, his first (and only work of fiction, I believe?), is how he refuses to hide the book designer in him, so the physical aspects of the book are just as significant as the story within it. He toys with the font midway through to imply epiphanical climax, he prints his mantra on the tips of the pages so that it mysteriously appears when you pinch the book the right way, and he adheres to no strict rules on margins in general. It really is a lovely way to approach writing as an art, literally.
The Cheese Monkeys is an easy read and does a good job of explaining the feeling of one's soul being destroyed in the name of art, education, maturation. One of my favorite elements of this book, his first (and only work of fiction, I believe?), is how he refuses to hide the book designer in him, so the physical aspects of the book are just as significant as the story within it. He toys with the font midway through to imply epiphanical climax, he prints his mantra on the tips of the pages so that it mysteriously appears when you pinch the book the right way, and he adheres to no strict rules on margins in general. It really is a lovely way to approach writing as an art, literally.
January 20, 2011
infuriating. hated every single page of it. way too pretentious for its own good, and not nearly as clever as it thinks it is. with every pop-referencing metaphor, heavy handed with over-the-top "get it? get it?" irony, you get the feeling that it would go so far as to wink at you if it weren't so busy patting itself on the fucking back. terrible, shrill, trite, egomaniacal characters worshipped by the pathetically insecure and earnest narrator. i didn't care much for these three characters to begin with, but the way our "hero" firmly kept his tongue planted into the asses of his manic pixie dreamgirl classmate and his "been there done that to the nth degree" mentor and design instructor was thoroughly nauseating and made me hate them all even more. cockpunches for everybody!
chip kidd's oeuvre as a book designer is interesting, attractive, and thought-provoking work created with the express purpose of encouraging people to purchase the books. with this novel he singlehandedly shoves back into our faces, as we have been told our entire lives, the adage that we should not judge a book by its cover. the book is so smartly designed, you automatically assume (or hope) the contents will match. i was wrong. dead wrong. in fact, after having read the book, i no longer like the book's design. go figure.
still, though. i finished the damn thing. which i suppose counts for something. half star for that, one star for the aforementioned book design (which rounds it up to 2 stars). and i'm being really generous here.
chip kidd's oeuvre as a book designer is interesting, attractive, and thought-provoking work created with the express purpose of encouraging people to purchase the books. with this novel he singlehandedly shoves back into our faces, as we have been told our entire lives, the adage that we should not judge a book by its cover. the book is so smartly designed, you automatically assume (or hope) the contents will match. i was wrong. dead wrong. in fact, after having read the book, i no longer like the book's design. go figure.
still, though. i finished the damn thing. which i suppose counts for something. half star for that, one star for the aforementioned book design (which rounds it up to 2 stars). and i'm being really generous here.
December 30, 2008
"The Cheese Monkeys" is, for more than 250 pages, one of the most enjoyable books I've read in a long time. Our hero is a freshman at State, enrolled in art classes. He meets an older sassy wild card named Himillsy Dodd who is full of fun and big ideas. They spend time drinking, eating ice cream, drunk driving and talking about art. (Himillsy also has a very serious straight-laced, straight edge, non cluttered boyfriend who rarely interrupts the flow of their friendship). Second semester finds them taking a graphic design class from an unpredictable professor, who assigns projects like: Design a poster, so that upon seeing it, the viewer will feel strangely compelled either to start an action or cease one.
And here is the fun of this book. A project is assigned. The students discuss it. The students present it. Professor Sorbeck shreds it and someone leaves the classroom in tears. Another student presents to a similar end. This is a total kick, filled with fun dialogue and interesting ideas. Conversations between the main characters are littered with pun-filled sentences. They are totally wrangling for best fictitious duo.
[It's fun to read about this sort of set up in an art classroom, rather than a classroom filled with writers, which seems to be a cliche of novels for obvious reasons. The art aspect gives it freshness. A recognizable concept, but in a different environment.:]
Unfortunately, no class lasts forever. And something's gotta give.
I'm beginning to notice a trend in most of the fiction I read: Passive male character is swept up by a carefree sidekick. There is witty banter and quirky side stepping of polite society. Momentum builds. Things can't stay like this forever. More heat. Whamo! An explosion that leaves everyone a little bruised. Life goes on in a new direction.
And it is usually at the explosion where the book falls apart for me. My favorite person in the whole world says that he only likes the first two-thirds of most movies; I'm starting to see that in the fiction I read. I mean no double entendre when I say: No one writes a good climax anymore.
Not even Chip Kidd.
His explosion is silly. Which is weird to say, because this book is pretty silly. But smart silly, not "rest your head on a baseball bat, spin in circles eight times and try to run to first base" silly, like the ending is.
On the other hand, in addition to the two-thirds theory of movies (and now books), I also have developed a Beavis and Butthead theory. In high school, I would watch an episode of B&B, find it funny enough. The next day during homeroom, my friend Tom would tell me about the same episode and I would laugh harder than when I was actually watching it. Something similar happened with this book: I went to sleep disappointed with the ending. Eight hours later, I was telling my favorite person in the world about the ending -- he had already read it, but forgotten. He was laughing his face off. Hearing myself talk about the climax, I realized I hadn't given it enough credit. This was golden.
So why didn't it work when I was actually looking at the words? One of the great mysteries of fiction, I guess.
And here is the fun of this book. A project is assigned. The students discuss it. The students present it. Professor Sorbeck shreds it and someone leaves the classroom in tears. Another student presents to a similar end. This is a total kick, filled with fun dialogue and interesting ideas. Conversations between the main characters are littered with pun-filled sentences. They are totally wrangling for best fictitious duo.
[It's fun to read about this sort of set up in an art classroom, rather than a classroom filled with writers, which seems to be a cliche of novels for obvious reasons. The art aspect gives it freshness. A recognizable concept, but in a different environment.:]
Unfortunately, no class lasts forever. And something's gotta give.
I'm beginning to notice a trend in most of the fiction I read: Passive male character is swept up by a carefree sidekick. There is witty banter and quirky side stepping of polite society. Momentum builds. Things can't stay like this forever. More heat. Whamo! An explosion that leaves everyone a little bruised. Life goes on in a new direction.
And it is usually at the explosion where the book falls apart for me. My favorite person in the whole world says that he only likes the first two-thirds of most movies; I'm starting to see that in the fiction I read. I mean no double entendre when I say: No one writes a good climax anymore.
Not even Chip Kidd.
His explosion is silly. Which is weird to say, because this book is pretty silly. But smart silly, not "rest your head on a baseball bat, spin in circles eight times and try to run to first base" silly, like the ending is.
On the other hand, in addition to the two-thirds theory of movies (and now books), I also have developed a Beavis and Butthead theory. In high school, I would watch an episode of B&B, find it funny enough. The next day during homeroom, my friend Tom would tell me about the same episode and I would laugh harder than when I was actually watching it. Something similar happened with this book: I went to sleep disappointed with the ending. Eight hours later, I was telling my favorite person in the world about the ending -- he had already read it, but forgotten. He was laughing his face off. Hearing myself talk about the climax, I realized I hadn't given it enough credit. This was golden.
So why didn't it work when I was actually looking at the words? One of the great mysteries of fiction, I guess.
July 18, 2008
WHAT the?... I just finished this, and as soon as I finish reviewing it, I'm going to go search out all the reviews with SPOILERS so I can hear someone talk about the ending.
This book is kind of like if you took Donna Tartt, Thomas Pynchon, David Sedaris, J.D. Salinger, and all those episodes of Six Feet Under where Claire goes to art school and whirred them up in a blender... Not a bad concoction in the end. And I don't mean to suggest Kidd is derivative. He actually has a pretty fearless voice most of the time.
Lots of times I couldn't believe it took place in the fifties, even the bohemian, radical fringe of the fifties. Then other times I loved that it took place in the fifties, because "limitations are possiblities," right? So the book's darkest character says, and it was interesting to see the author wedge his characters into another time without making them feel at all like they were in a fifties diorama. And I realized that as bleakly funny and semi-nihilistic as the book gets, the characters are never quite postmodern. They teeter on postmodernism but never quite tip, despite the Eggers-y cuteness of the cover and title pages.
Three and a half stars, really, if you want to be exact. Almost four.
**
AND LATER, THE SAME DAY...
I just wanted to add a note, because I read some other reviews here, then I went to another site and read some movie reviews, and then I thought about that whole speech in "Ratatouille" about the role of critics vs. the role of artists... and I wanted to add to my review of Cheese Monkeys that yeah, I felt a little dead-ended by the ending of this book, and no it isn't in my desert island suitcase, BUT... if I had written even two pages of this, I would be damn proud of myself.
And though I did give it three stars, the things I liked about it I didn't like half-heartedly. I loved them.
In the grand scheme of things, Chip Kidd is pretty brilliant. And this book is pretty amazing.
Also, I think he should definitely write some plays.
This book is kind of like if you took Donna Tartt, Thomas Pynchon, David Sedaris, J.D. Salinger, and all those episodes of Six Feet Under where Claire goes to art school and whirred them up in a blender... Not a bad concoction in the end. And I don't mean to suggest Kidd is derivative. He actually has a pretty fearless voice most of the time.
Lots of times I couldn't believe it took place in the fifties, even the bohemian, radical fringe of the fifties. Then other times I loved that it took place in the fifties, because "limitations are possiblities," right? So the book's darkest character says, and it was interesting to see the author wedge his characters into another time without making them feel at all like they were in a fifties diorama. And I realized that as bleakly funny and semi-nihilistic as the book gets, the characters are never quite postmodern. They teeter on postmodernism but never quite tip, despite the Eggers-y cuteness of the cover and title pages.
Three and a half stars, really, if you want to be exact. Almost four.
**
AND LATER, THE SAME DAY...
I just wanted to add a note, because I read some other reviews here, then I went to another site and read some movie reviews, and then I thought about that whole speech in "Ratatouille" about the role of critics vs. the role of artists... and I wanted to add to my review of Cheese Monkeys that yeah, I felt a little dead-ended by the ending of this book, and no it isn't in my desert island suitcase, BUT... if I had written even two pages of this, I would be damn proud of myself.
And though I did give it three stars, the things I liked about it I didn't like half-heartedly. I loved them.
In the grand scheme of things, Chip Kidd is pretty brilliant. And this book is pretty amazing.
Also, I think he should definitely write some plays.
December 4, 2022
The writing was brilliant; the over-designed gimmicky layout less so. Fortunately the gimmicks were limited to the beginning pages, before the actual text.
This book is described as a novel but reads like a memoir. It is an autobiographical novel—whatever that is.
To me reading this was literally a LOL experience. Kidd has a talent for describing characters — except for the first person narrator, who remained almost invisible. This, though, I felt was also a portrayal: a reflection of that character, still indistinct and unformed at that stage of his life.
There are a couple of ugly jokes here, which use the n-word; however, the main characters are suitably appalled.
This book is described as a novel but reads like a memoir. It is an autobiographical novel—whatever that is.
To me reading this was literally a LOL experience. Kidd has a talent for describing characters — except for the first person narrator, who remained almost invisible. This, though, I felt was also a portrayal: a reflection of that character, still indistinct and unformed at that stage of his life.
There are a couple of ugly jokes here, which use the n-word; however, the main characters are suitably appalled.
September 19, 2008
Something on the book "jacket" mentioned that the author is actually a graphic designer and that this is his first attempt at actually writing. That fact is painfully apparent.
Every paragraph feels like a high school descriptive writing assignment. Kidd's overuse of metaphors, in particular, is so distracting that I frequently lose track of the novel's action (if you can even call it that).
The jacket design is engaging and unique, but the same cannot be said of the story itself.
Every paragraph feels like a high school descriptive writing assignment. Kidd's overuse of metaphors, in particular, is so distracting that I frequently lose track of the novel's action (if you can even call it that).
The jacket design is engaging and unique, but the same cannot be said of the story itself.
March 24, 2017
Even though I went to art school forty years after the narrator in the book, I saw plenty of familiar things in his experience and the characters he shows us. Although reviews describe the story as funny and also sad, I really saw the "sad" parts more along the lines of the things we all go through at a young age as we try to find out who we are. The funny parts are completely hysterical, perhaps slightly less so if you have never set foot in a college art class, but I found them to be on par with the kinds of things that happened in almost any art class I took. I was especially impressed with the minor character Mike, the skilled technician who does not understand putting meaning or concept into a piece of art, and who I swear was in every art class I ever took in one form or another.
January 19, 2009
I did not like this book because it was witty. It was so witty that I was utterly confused the entire time because instead of saying what was actually happening, the author would say it “wittily”. I am a sharp person, but sometime extreme wit takes me days to process, and even then I can only process small doses. Several hundred pages of wit is overwhelming. Also, the plot was not hilarious, like so many of the reviews on here promised, unless you think rape and molesting is funny. However, like I said, the book was so witty that maybe I completely misunderstood and no one was violated.
I would like to share a story of why you should just say what you mean without fancying it up (or lying or being witty):
When I was in college I fell in love with a boy named Dan. We were in the same ‘Physics 122: Electricity & Magnetism’ class. After class (which I always imagined that we were attending TOGETHER) we’d go to the physics lab to work for hours on our homework. I think Dan had some concept of what the class was actually about, but all I knew was that I sure felt a lot of electricity and magnetism with Dan.
So, there was no class one day and all I could think of was my beloved Dan. I worked up the nerve to call him and ask if he wanted to go on a hike. I didn’t really want to go on a hike, nor did I have a clue where a good one (‘good’ = I would not get sweaty or out of breath), but I thought he’d like it. So I looked him up in the college directory and called. He wasn’t home, so I left a message and went on a hike (around the mall) by myself. When I got home I anxiously asked if Dan had called. My roommate hesitantly let me know that he had indeed returned my call…and his message was “I have no idea who you are. I don’t even know anyone named Emily.” Oh my gosh. D-E-V-A-S-T-A-T-I-O-N!!! Was this a rejection or was I really that un-memorable?
So the next day in class I was a bit cautious when I saw Dan. He seemed totally normal. The jerk! How could he have so callously denied me and then pretended like it never happened?! I was mad at him, but still totally in love. Just because he didn’t know my name didn’t mean that what we felt for each other wasn’t real! I eventually just said, “So, Dan, did you not want to go hiking or what yesterday?” And he said, “Huh?” Turns out that he had moved from the apartment that I had called, but another guy named Dan had moved in. So, the Dan I called really didn’t know who I was! (I have to admit that I wondered why that Dan he didn’t call me back, pretend to know who I was, say yes to the hike, and then ask me to marry him when we came upon a sparkling waterfall. That would have been such a great story to tell our kids! But apparently boys are not that romantic!)
Ok, here’s where not saying what I meant really got me in trouble: Dan said that if had he gotten my message he would have totally gone on the hike. I knew then that the secret to this relationship was establishing that I liked all of the exact same things that he did. So, I would casually ask him questions about himself and then point out that I liked that EXACT SAME STUFF! Like, his favorite band was ‘Toad The Wet Sprocket’. I said, “Me too! Totally! I like to fall asleep listening to them!” To this day I cannot name for you a single song by that band. So when he asked what my favorite song was, I sort of gasp and said, “Every one. They are all so awesome, especially the one about...the...frog. You know, the one with guitars?! Yes. I love that one!” I remember Dan giving me a funny look.
A few days later, I was digging for more of Dan’s/my favorite things. Either travel or tv came up. That lead to a discussion of the ‘Lonely Planet’ tv show, which I had never seen, but had always intended to watch. He started telling me his favorite characters and such. I instantly felt weird because I thought it was a travelogue show without characters. But I couldn’t disagree with Dan…we were in love for heaven’s sakes! So I totally agreed about how Estelle seemed so weird with Willie and how Dean and Shelly were really on the outs lately, etc. In my mind I was thinking ‘Is he testing me? No way! He loves me! Wait, wait…this could be a test. No, maybe I there actually is a plot on that show.” After several minutes of agreeing with him, he gave me a really long, awkward stare and walked away. He never spoke to me again.
My story could also be titled “Desperation Is Obvious”.
I would like to share a story of why you should just say what you mean without fancying it up (or lying or being witty):
When I was in college I fell in love with a boy named Dan. We were in the same ‘Physics 122: Electricity & Magnetism’ class. After class (which I always imagined that we were attending TOGETHER) we’d go to the physics lab to work for hours on our homework. I think Dan had some concept of what the class was actually about, but all I knew was that I sure felt a lot of electricity and magnetism with Dan.
So, there was no class one day and all I could think of was my beloved Dan. I worked up the nerve to call him and ask if he wanted to go on a hike. I didn’t really want to go on a hike, nor did I have a clue where a good one (‘good’ = I would not get sweaty or out of breath), but I thought he’d like it. So I looked him up in the college directory and called. He wasn’t home, so I left a message and went on a hike (around the mall) by myself. When I got home I anxiously asked if Dan had called. My roommate hesitantly let me know that he had indeed returned my call…and his message was “I have no idea who you are. I don’t even know anyone named Emily.” Oh my gosh. D-E-V-A-S-T-A-T-I-O-N!!! Was this a rejection or was I really that un-memorable?
So the next day in class I was a bit cautious when I saw Dan. He seemed totally normal. The jerk! How could he have so callously denied me and then pretended like it never happened?! I was mad at him, but still totally in love. Just because he didn’t know my name didn’t mean that what we felt for each other wasn’t real! I eventually just said, “So, Dan, did you not want to go hiking or what yesterday?” And he said, “Huh?” Turns out that he had moved from the apartment that I had called, but another guy named Dan had moved in. So, the Dan I called really didn’t know who I was! (I have to admit that I wondered why that Dan he didn’t call me back, pretend to know who I was, say yes to the hike, and then ask me to marry him when we came upon a sparkling waterfall. That would have been such a great story to tell our kids! But apparently boys are not that romantic!)
Ok, here’s where not saying what I meant really got me in trouble: Dan said that if had he gotten my message he would have totally gone on the hike. I knew then that the secret to this relationship was establishing that I liked all of the exact same things that he did. So, I would casually ask him questions about himself and then point out that I liked that EXACT SAME STUFF! Like, his favorite band was ‘Toad The Wet Sprocket’. I said, “Me too! Totally! I like to fall asleep listening to them!” To this day I cannot name for you a single song by that band. So when he asked what my favorite song was, I sort of gasp and said, “Every one. They are all so awesome, especially the one about...the...frog. You know, the one with guitars?! Yes. I love that one!” I remember Dan giving me a funny look.
A few days later, I was digging for more of Dan’s/my favorite things. Either travel or tv came up. That lead to a discussion of the ‘Lonely Planet’ tv show, which I had never seen, but had always intended to watch. He started telling me his favorite characters and such. I instantly felt weird because I thought it was a travelogue show without characters. But I couldn’t disagree with Dan…we were in love for heaven’s sakes! So I totally agreed about how Estelle seemed so weird with Willie and how Dean and Shelly were really on the outs lately, etc. In my mind I was thinking ‘Is he testing me? No way! He loves me! Wait, wait…this could be a test. No, maybe I there actually is a plot on that show.” After several minutes of agreeing with him, he gave me a really long, awkward stare and walked away. He never spoke to me again.
My story could also be titled “Desperation Is Obvious”.
July 30, 2008
Next on my list out of the four books I spontaneously bought was Chip Kidd’s ‘The Cheese Monkeys’, subtitled ‘A Novel in Two Semesters’. For those not familiar with the author’s name, you’d probably be familiar with at least a few pieces of his work, given he’s basically designed every worthwhile book cover on the planet (or at least that’s the impression his wiki gives). It’s kind of obvious that this is a book telling of design, as the book itself has a few quirky features, the most startling of which is the optical illusion that covers the whatever-the-technical-word-for-the-bit-opposite-the-spine-is-where-the-pages-come-out. Basically the edges of the pages look they’ve had a big smudge over them until you bend the book one way, whereupon those smudges resolve themselves into the words “Do you see?”. And then, ever the intrepid explorer, you bend the book the other way to see that they now form the words “Good is dead”. If you are anything like me, this has already made the book a worthwhile purchase.
Anyway, the subtitle is appropriate, as this is essentially an exaggerated autobiographical account of Kidd’s days taking art classes at college. More specifically the first semester is Kidd taking generic art classes and befriending the unstoppably quirky and independent Himillsy Dodd. Himillsy is difficult to describe, but if you take the teenage Juno, beat the irritating “Look at me I’m indie” out of her, grow her up a little, hurt her a bit to encourage the cynicism, then chuck her in a world of pretentious art world and let her develop the sense of hatred for stupidity and trends. That’s Himillsy (Hims, Mills, Millie).
From here, the narrator (already relatively unimpressed by the courses he’s been offered) is thrown into a design course in the second semester of the book. Specifically a design course with a sarcastic, highly intelligent, sadist design professor (who, apparently, invented the Wrigley’s gum wrapper double arrow) named Winter Sorbeck. As far as I can tell, Winter is essentially Kidd’s voice of design speaking through the book. He is an utter bastard, willing to rip off his student’s work, burn their assignments, berate them into leaving, and set them impossible tasks in order to get them to really appreciate the purpose of ‘design’. He sees graphic design as an elite art of translating ideas ans associations captured constantly from the world into concepts that leap at their audiences. Sorbeck is the art teacher that you’ve always wanted. The kind that abuses you for mediocrity, but has the expertise to back up the beratement, and the eventual humanity to award you.
There are lessons to be learned from this book. It is uplifting, even throughout the utterly insane scenes of penile blackmail. If nothing else it serves as a very light introduction to methods involved in modern design. Personally it did make me sit back and wonder what might have been, and what still could be, if I made a serious effort in the creative arts. It also made me wonder what on earth I’ll be doing at the end of my degree, but I believe that’s idiosyncratic to my reading of it.
Ultimately I’d recommend this one to anyone that’s interested in doing, or has done anything in design to get a friendly reminder of why you are doing (or have done) what you are doing (or have done). Good stuff, and accessible on a few different levels.
Anyway, the subtitle is appropriate, as this is essentially an exaggerated autobiographical account of Kidd’s days taking art classes at college. More specifically the first semester is Kidd taking generic art classes and befriending the unstoppably quirky and independent Himillsy Dodd. Himillsy is difficult to describe, but if you take the teenage Juno, beat the irritating “Look at me I’m indie” out of her, grow her up a little, hurt her a bit to encourage the cynicism, then chuck her in a world of pretentious art world and let her develop the sense of hatred for stupidity and trends. That’s Himillsy (Hims, Mills, Millie).
From here, the narrator (already relatively unimpressed by the courses he’s been offered) is thrown into a design course in the second semester of the book. Specifically a design course with a sarcastic, highly intelligent, sadist design professor (who, apparently, invented the Wrigley’s gum wrapper double arrow) named Winter Sorbeck. As far as I can tell, Winter is essentially Kidd’s voice of design speaking through the book. He is an utter bastard, willing to rip off his student’s work, burn their assignments, berate them into leaving, and set them impossible tasks in order to get them to really appreciate the purpose of ‘design’. He sees graphic design as an elite art of translating ideas ans associations captured constantly from the world into concepts that leap at their audiences. Sorbeck is the art teacher that you’ve always wanted. The kind that abuses you for mediocrity, but has the expertise to back up the beratement, and the eventual humanity to award you.
There are lessons to be learned from this book. It is uplifting, even throughout the utterly insane scenes of penile blackmail. If nothing else it serves as a very light introduction to methods involved in modern design. Personally it did make me sit back and wonder what might have been, and what still could be, if I made a serious effort in the creative arts. It also made me wonder what on earth I’ll be doing at the end of my degree, but I believe that’s idiosyncratic to my reading of it.
Ultimately I’d recommend this one to anyone that’s interested in doing, or has done anything in design to get a friendly reminder of why you are doing (or have done) what you are doing (or have done). Good stuff, and accessible on a few different levels.
June 29, 2008
A brief interlude between longer, more involved selections. Has the distinction of the widest margins-to-page-size of anything I have ever read. Maybe a jokey reference to college students trying to make their term papers look longer? It would hardly be outside of the book's scope or tone to do so.
***
Well, I like to be entertained, and I was entertained. So no complaints there. It was a strange novel, though. Briskly frivolous, then oddly didactic, then positively Dantean. I'm not yet convinced that the pieces all fit.
Oh, and a note on design: It's all decent, and I would have no particular comment but for the author: surely Chip Kidd of all people can merge form and function in some more elegantly surprising manner than this.
***
Well, I like to be entertained, and I was entertained. So no complaints there. It was a strange novel, though. Briskly frivolous, then oddly didactic, then positively Dantean. I'm not yet convinced that the pieces all fit.
Oh, and a note on design: It's all decent, and I would have no particular comment but for the author: surely Chip Kidd of all people can merge form and function in some more elegantly surprising manner than this.
June 7, 2017
Brilliantly hilarious! Chip Kidd is a rare gem and I totally appreciate his quirky writing style. His sarcastic descriptions are so on point and I laughed out loud about a dozen times (on a dead quiet train chock full at rush hour!!)
To top it off, the book design is incredibly thoughtful and creative. LOVE the foredge graphics and split page credits. So well done and a million out of 5 stars for that.
I'm buying whatever Chip's selling!!
To top it off, the book design is incredibly thoughtful and creative. LOVE the foredge graphics and split page credits. So well done and a million out of 5 stars for that.
I'm buying whatever Chip's selling!!
July 26, 2009
I have this terrible fear that this
review will be graded by the author.
Consequently, I have, in my defense,
nothing to say, except...read this book.
review will be graded by the author.
Consequently, I have, in my defense,
nothing to say, except...read this book.
August 27, 2013
Jeez, dude, John Green much? Oh, look, it's a manic pixie dream girl, and she makes our (anti-)hero feel so alive. And then, ooh, here comes a sadistic version of Robin Williams a la Dead Poets Society to make our hero Think about Art, Life, and Love. You can rest assured that Coming of Age Ensues and Life Lessons are Learned.
Are we there yet?
Maybe I'm being harsh. I did stick with it, after all. This is because the beginning showed great glimmers of promise and offered some laugh-out-loud moments, especially when the narrator discloses what possessed him to major in art in the first place. Also, I found the ending strangely poignant, which may or may not have been due to my mental state whilst in the throes of a mild bout of food poisoning. But it's hard to root for someone who essentially commits sexual assault on his unconscious professor (who, by the way, is the jackass to end all jackasses, which of course is only because he is an Artistic Genius). Predictably, the characters that are actually semi-endurable—those whose every waking moment isn't a performative attention bid dripping with barbed irony and terminal (self-perceived) cleverness—are written off as witless dullards, the poor dears.
At least if this were John Green, Ills would have died in a car crash at the end. Note to self: Jeez dude, cranky thirty-something much? And maybe that’s exactly the problem. I probably read this book about fifteen years too late.
Are we there yet?
Maybe I'm being harsh. I did stick with it, after all. This is because the beginning showed great glimmers of promise and offered some laugh-out-loud moments, especially when the narrator discloses what possessed him to major in art in the first place. Also, I found the ending strangely poignant, which may or may not have been due to my mental state whilst in the throes of a mild bout of food poisoning. But it's hard to root for someone who essentially commits sexual assault on his unconscious professor (who, by the way, is the jackass to end all jackasses, which of course is only because he is an Artistic Genius). Predictably, the characters that are actually semi-endurable—those whose every waking moment isn't a performative attention bid dripping with barbed irony and terminal (self-perceived) cleverness—are written off as witless dullards, the poor dears.
At least if this were John Green, Ills would have died in a car crash at the end. Note to self: Jeez dude, cranky thirty-something much? And maybe that’s exactly the problem. I probably read this book about fifteen years too late.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 8, 2012
Apparently I'm in one of those phases where I don't trust anything new and am only rereading things I know I loved. And if this is 1/8 as good as
Bogeywoman
, I will have several more very happy days.
***
Good, but not as good the second time around. It seemed too short & much less complete. The main girl was awesome awesome, but the main guy was pretty inconsistent and kind of hard to believe. And the writing style started to grate after awhile. But the plot was still super, and the design advice fascinating.
***
Good, but not as good the second time around. It seemed too short & much less complete. The main girl was awesome awesome, but the main guy was pretty inconsistent and kind of hard to believe. And the writing style started to grate after awhile. But the plot was still super, and the design advice fascinating.
October 9, 2009
In short:
Holden Caulfield goes to art school, meets Marla Singer, antics ensue, Samuel Beckett hijacks the finale.
In more detail:
It reads as three separate pieces, the first two of which I greatly enjoyed. Act One sees our protagonist off to college at "State"; Act Two focuses on the interaction between our freshman narrator and Professor Winter Sorbeck, who is narrowly toeing the genius/insanity line; Act Three takes an unfortunate and rather sharp turn into existential tripe.
Despite the unsatisfying third act and the abrupt conclusion, the novel was enjoyable, as it was humorous while maintaining a truthfulness to its characters.
Holden Caulfield goes to art school, meets Marla Singer, antics ensue, Samuel Beckett hijacks the finale.
In more detail:
It reads as three separate pieces, the first two of which I greatly enjoyed. Act One sees our protagonist off to college at "State"; Act Two focuses on the interaction between our freshman narrator and Professor Winter Sorbeck, who is narrowly toeing the genius/insanity line; Act Three takes an unfortunate and rather sharp turn into existential tripe.
Despite the unsatisfying third act and the abrupt conclusion, the novel was enjoyable, as it was humorous while maintaining a truthfulness to its characters.
February 15, 2018
While this was a blast to read - having done an Advertising degree, I appreciated a lot of the design wackiness - the ending was a total let-down. It felt like there were a lot of plot elements in there that were building to something, but then didn't. The build up had a piece (a whole character) pulled from the bottom of the Plot Jar pyramid, which made it fall down quickly and messily. Maybe that's the point? I don't know. It wasn't very satisfying though.
December 22, 2022
this book was a ride omg. i didn't do much digging into the plot beforehand, so i had no idea what i was in for. it got quite pretentious at times, which i sort of expected based on the book's exterior. it also got really weird at the end. i don't even fully understand what the ending was, but i think i'm okay with that. i didn't really enjoy it enough to think too hard about it not that i'm finished. but it made some interesting commentary on the university and academia, and who doesn't love a little bit of that?? unsure if that commentary was revolutionary enough to look past how strange this book was though,,,,
June 9, 2023
Fun fact: written by the guy who designs covers for Haruki Murakami.
Also, I apparently have a thing for books about art students / the art world. Go figure.
"Bestine, give up. You're smitten with this idea and it's making a fool of you. Everyone?" He stood. "Never fall in love with an idea. They're whores: if the one you're with isn't doing the job, there's always, always, always another one."
(p. 144)
Reread August 2017: yeah, still love this one. I felt a little more critical of it this time, because it has some EXTREMELY problematic parts, but I feel like that might be specifically why Kidd set it in the 50s - "oh, that? oh, that's just part of the time period!" Okay. But also you're not fooling anyone.
Reread 2023: honestly my 2017 self nailed this review on the head. The parts that made me wince made me wince pretty hard on this read through, but adorable and unintentionally I stopped to snap a picture of the same quote I typed out above at one point without remembering I’d done it before. Time. Selfhood. Wow. Pretty neat. Also I feel like Scott McLarens should read this book. Hi Scott.
Also, I apparently have a thing for books about art students / the art world. Go figure.
"Bestine, give up. You're smitten with this idea and it's making a fool of you. Everyone?" He stood. "Never fall in love with an idea. They're whores: if the one you're with isn't doing the job, there's always, always, always another one."
(p. 144)
Reread August 2017: yeah, still love this one. I felt a little more critical of it this time, because it has some EXTREMELY problematic parts, but I feel like that might be specifically why Kidd set it in the 50s - "oh, that? oh, that's just part of the time period!" Okay. But also you're not fooling anyone.
Reread 2023: honestly my 2017 self nailed this review on the head. The parts that made me wince made me wince pretty hard on this read through, but adorable and unintentionally I stopped to snap a picture of the same quote I typed out above at one point without remembering I’d done it before. Time. Selfhood. Wow. Pretty neat. Also I feel like Scott McLarens should read this book. Hi Scott.
May 25, 2007
This is a quick read and mostly enjoyable. The cover and title pages have really great design work, as Kidd is known for, and the book is worth picking up for that reason alone.
I've heard a lot of critics say that it's extremely predictable and it sort of is in that "crazy teacher that students hate and then bond with" kind of way. What it has that movies and books of this tired genre lack are a few good twists, a lot of good dark humor and a teacher whose inspirational speeches have less happy you-can-do-it Stand and Deliver(thank you public education for shoving that Edwards James Almos trainwreck down my throat so many times) horseshit involved and a lot more masturbatory hand gestures and jeers directed towards studio artists.
If you go/have gone to art school, like graphic design, or just think that studio art degrees are kind of a waste of time this is a good book for you. If you don't have the slightest background in this sort of thing then I really don't think this is for you and I wouldn't bother.
I've heard a lot of critics say that it's extremely predictable and it sort of is in that "crazy teacher that students hate and then bond with" kind of way. What it has that movies and books of this tired genre lack are a few good twists, a lot of good dark humor and a teacher whose inspirational speeches have less happy you-can-do-it Stand and Deliver(thank you public education for shoving that Edwards James Almos trainwreck down my throat so many times) horseshit involved and a lot more masturbatory hand gestures and jeers directed towards studio artists.
If you go/have gone to art school, like graphic design, or just think that studio art degrees are kind of a waste of time this is a good book for you. If you don't have the slightest background in this sort of thing then I really don't think this is for you and I wouldn't bother.
August 19, 2008
1. Art school in the 50s. Crazy fuckers at art school in the 50s.
2. Primer for design.
3. Like, seriously, the book talks about graphic design and is itself a masterpiece of design. It's a fun book to read for the physicality of the book. If you're one of those ebook lovers, in this case an ebook would drain the life out of the book. I mean, the prose is still well executed...but it's not the same.
2. Primer for design.
3. Like, seriously, the book talks about graphic design and is itself a masterpiece of design. It's a fun book to read for the physicality of the book. If you're one of those ebook lovers, in this case an ebook would drain the life out of the book. I mean, the prose is still well executed...but it's not the same.
March 20, 2026
Officially a top 5 all-time favorite books for me. As an Art School survivor, it perfectly satirized the bizarre cult-like customs we adopted whilst deconstructing our mainstream societal conditioning in order to create the Finest of Art.
Our protag' ineptly named "Happy" (he is, only rarely) is dropped off at a state school to study Art. His coming of age journey includes a Manic Pixie Dream Girl who carries a doll representing her brother's unborn fetus, a machiavellian Graphic Design teacher where each class he teaches is a convictable offense, and a sweet southern gal named Maybelle who is earnest and true and therefore hated.
This is the first book I have read where stopping to laugh every couple of pages was the norm. Why you ask?
The author packs his sentences so tightly with witticism, they make you pause and reread. Illustrating a painful wait with “five minutes passed like kidney stones.” Describing a spoiled shellfish as a “tired oyster” or the size of a gulp of liquor as a “mouthful big enough to float a goldfish” feel both archaic and fresh, simultaneously. Calling a newspaper a “fishwrap” is now formally in my lexicon. Words like “cognoscenti,” “Lilliputian,” and "proscenium" were a delight to chew on.
Not just good for a laugh, the sections breaking down the difference between art and design (pp. 106–109) are genuinely brilliant. “One tries to make you buy things, the other gives you ideas” is the kind of line that challenges how I see the design world I've lived in for 12+ years.
And, at the end, theres a collection of paragraphs (pp. 211 - 212) which read like a kind of Grand Unified Theory of everything, nonscientific but spiritually precise. You don’t expect sincerity to survive here, in a world so irreverent and absurd, but it does.
Most baffling of all? This firecracker is Chip Kidd's first foray into novel writing, having spent his career designing hundreds of covers rather than the words that go inside them.
I will be seeing phantom cheese monkeys flying around in the periphery of my vision for long after closing it. This book deserves a re-read when I am predictably in need of a creative pick me up.
Our protag' ineptly named "Happy" (he is, only rarely) is dropped off at a state school to study Art. His coming of age journey includes a Manic Pixie Dream Girl who carries a doll representing her brother's unborn fetus, a machiavellian Graphic Design teacher where each class he teaches is a convictable offense, and a sweet southern gal named Maybelle who is earnest and true and therefore hated.
This is the first book I have read where stopping to laugh every couple of pages was the norm. Why you ask?
The author packs his sentences so tightly with witticism, they make you pause and reread. Illustrating a painful wait with “five minutes passed like kidney stones.” Describing a spoiled shellfish as a “tired oyster” or the size of a gulp of liquor as a “mouthful big enough to float a goldfish” feel both archaic and fresh, simultaneously. Calling a newspaper a “fishwrap” is now formally in my lexicon. Words like “cognoscenti,” “Lilliputian,” and "proscenium" were a delight to chew on.
Not just good for a laugh, the sections breaking down the difference between art and design (pp. 106–109) are genuinely brilliant. “One tries to make you buy things, the other gives you ideas” is the kind of line that challenges how I see the design world I've lived in for 12+ years.
And, at the end, theres a collection of paragraphs (pp. 211 - 212) which read like a kind of Grand Unified Theory of everything, nonscientific but spiritually precise. You don’t expect sincerity to survive here, in a world so irreverent and absurd, but it does.
Most baffling of all? This firecracker is Chip Kidd's first foray into novel writing, having spent his career designing hundreds of covers rather than the words that go inside them.
I will be seeing phantom cheese monkeys flying around in the periphery of my vision for long after closing it. This book deserves a re-read when I am predictably in need of a creative pick me up.
June 8, 2017
I adored the art school setting and the twists . I found it to be very funny, entertaining and Winter Sorbeck is a great character.
Some complain that this is predictable, but I found the twists to be surprising enough to keep my attention. The basic plot of crazy teacher turns kids minds' around and the awkward geeky boy has a thing for the manic pixie dream girl all has been done before and better. The Himislly character was too over the top and annoying. I might've liked this if I read it a few years ago. It also reads a little amateurish.
In general it was pretty good. I recommend it if you're into dark strangeness and if you are into art and design you will enjoy it.
Some complain that this is predictable, but I found the twists to be surprising enough to keep my attention. The basic plot of crazy teacher turns kids minds' around and the awkward geeky boy has a thing for the manic pixie dream girl all has been done before and better. The Himislly character was too over the top and annoying. I might've liked this if I read it a few years ago. It also reads a little amateurish.
In general it was pretty good. I recommend it if you're into dark strangeness and if you are into art and design you will enjoy it.
November 16, 2020
An amazing book requiring (I'm sure) a couple readings and probably a better handle on the whole subject of art. Kidd's book reminded me a lot of The House of God, which I highly recommend. The question always comes back to me, though: How relevant is the subjective view of art? I'm sure it bears some semblance to tastes in other artforms, like literature: find what you like and then experiment outside your comfort level. That credo has gotten be by so far.
March 4, 2023
I’m giving this a 4.5, I think. It’s set at a state university in the 50s so there’s definitely some dialogue that’s probably period appropriate but not my favorite. Overall, though, the characters were interesting, the book structure was fun. This is outside my usual wheelhouse of reading and if it hadn’t been lent to me as “this is my favorite book” by a friend, I might not have ever picked it up, so I’m glad I did!
July 8, 2022
Amazing! Best fucking book ive read in awhile. The characters are so New York. I couldn't help but picture Natasha Lyonne as Hims, and Lenny Bruce as the professor. Funny interesting thoughtful ... seriously, I might re read the book right now. Excellent.
January 6, 2021
A pretentious “Perks of Being a Wallflower” that made me wish my graphic design prof had been meaner to me. Decent.
August 30, 2023
This took a really weird turn at the end and I'm not sure what just happened, but it was fairly amusing for the first ~200 pages.
December 8, 2023
i was having such a good time until 200 pages in— then i really wasn’t. becomes what it initially set out to make fun of
November 28, 2024
3.5
It was actually so good and full of personality but it really lost my interest at the end:(
It was actually so good and full of personality but it really lost my interest at the end:(
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