This is truly one of the funniest books I have ever had the pleasure of reading.

It is uproariously hilarious right from the Prologue, which practically demands to be read aloud, all the way to the zany and unexpected ending.

William Devereaux finds himself at that crucial midpoint in his life where he comes to the realization that his life will never quite measure up to his lofty expectations.

He feels that he will never be able to live up to the academic reputation of his father.

The college where he teaches is floundering in a state of mediocrity, and chaos seems to reign supreme among the members of his English Department.

Russo's writing style and the various situations he presents in the book remind me strongly of the novels written by David Lodge, such as "Nice Work" and "Small World".

Lodge also tackles similar themes within the context of English academia and the modern social environments, making this book all the more engaging and relatable.

Overall, it is a must-read for anyone who enjoys a good laugh and a thought-provoking exploration of life's disappointments and the absurdities of the academic world.

What ails people is never simple, and William of Occam, who provided mankind with a beacon of rationality by which to view the world of physical circumstance, knew better than to apply his razor to the irrational, where entities multiply like strands of a virus under a microscope.

Straight Man is the fourth novel by Pulitzer Prize-winning American novelist, Richard Russo. William Henry Devereaux Jnr, (Hank), at almost fifty, is the interim chairman of the English department at the (chronically underfunded) West Central Pennsylvania University in Railton. In a certain week in April, he endures a variety of trials, both mental and physical. It all starts in a meeting where he is nasally mangled by a colleague. Or does it? Perhaps his absent father has had more influence than he admits. Russo subjects his protagonist to bouts of overactive imagination, the suspicions and petty politics of colleagues, his students' decided lack of promise, his daughter's marital problems, a tempting flirtation with a younger woman, and an irritating (and possibly worrying) deterioration in the function of a certain organ. Ducks, geese, a TV news crew, the local jail, a hot tub, peaches and their pits, a dog called Occam, and a missing ceiling tile complete the picture.

Hank holds his colleagues in disdain, is critical of his friends, and loves the wife who knows him entirely too well. He knows his own weaknesses and is well aware of his flaws. This is a book filled with humour, some of it quite dark, and much of it very dry. It will have readers grinning, chuckling, and laughing out loud, so is perhaps not a book to read in public. Russo gives Hank some succinct and insightful observations and allows him to display his literary talent in the form of descriptive prose.

Fans of Russo's earlier books will not be disappointed with Straight Man, and readers new to his work will want to seek out more works by this talented author. It is clever and brilliantly funny.

For the same reason that I have an affection for reading David Sedaris, I found great pleasure in reading Straight Man: humour. Just as I relished Less, I would highly recommend Straight Man for its literary optimism. Both of these qualities are rather uncommon... at least, within the confines of my bookshelf. Since when has a remarkable book penned by a serious writer not only offer amusement but also a gentle conclusion?

To be honest, it almost seems as if I deliberately seek to avoid those gentle landings. I *like* to be put through the literary equivalent of a crash test, at least. However, once in a while, it is beneficial to be reminded of the absurdity of life and that not everyone meets a tragic end, not everyone has inappropriate relations with their siblings, cheats on their spouse, or endures a lifetime of oppression under some external force.

This book serves as such a reminder. But there is nothing trite or cheesy about it, and it is written by a Pulitzer Prize-winning author, so you can take some comfort in that knowledge, for whatever it's worth.

So, Straight Man. Set in the often nonsensical world of academia, William Henry Devereaux Jr (Hank) finds himself in the throes of a midlife crisis. This is observed by his colleagues, a diverse cast of characters who are all vying for security and prestige within the liberal arts department of a mediocre Pennsylvania university. Hank's narrative voice is dry, intelligent, ironic, and simply hilarious. He has issues with his mother AND father, he has problems with his wife, he has difficulties in his relationship with his daughter, all on top of his significant professional woes... and on top of all this, he has to relieve himself but is unable to.

At times, it can get a bit farcical, but just go with the flow. You've been living through a pandemic. Lean back, smooth out your furrowed brows, and let that laughter bubble up from your throat. Laughter truly feels good.

“I hear you don't write any more,” he says...

“Not true,” I inform him. “You should see the margins of my student papers.”

“Not the same as writing a book though, right?”

“Almost identical,” I assure him. “Both go largely unread.”

And then, when the laughter subsides, soak in the warmth of a world that has righted itself and achieved the proper balance. Just like in any good comedy, the chaos has transformed into order, and everything feels as it should. Which is rather strange, considering the current circumstances. But these days, we'll take whatever small pleasures we can get, don't you think?

A truly remarkable book has emerged that astonishingly manages to strike that elusive and difficult balance between being uproariously hilarious and deeply sentimental. It encapsulates all the captivating drama that unfolds within a university English department. This is intertwined with the irreverent nature of a middle-aged professor who approaches everything with a light-hearted disregard, not even taking himself seriously. Amidst the plethora of jokes and slapstick comedy that pepper the narrative, there lies a profound tenderness. This tenderness delves into the complex ways in which we perceive ourselves and interact with those around us. It makes the reader both laugh out loud and reflect deeply on the human condition.

I wonder if Railton is based on Altoona, PA. We lived there for a while. Altoona has the Horseshoe Curve (railroad) and an older amusement park, Lakemont Park, which has the oldest wooden roller coaster. There are lots of hills and snow, and people enjoy sliding on both.

This is a madcap adventure that takes place in a few days. Another friend's review refers to Henry ("Lucky Hank") as a Hawkeye Pierce (if you're old enough to remember M*A*S*H), and that's very true. I recently read Deacon King Kong, which is also in the same vein, but instead of dead bodies, this one has dead geese/ducks.

The title comes from the setting up of a joke (George was the "straight man" to Gracie) (if you're old enough to remember Burns and Allen) vs sexual orientation.

There are too many characters here, and I gave up keeping them straight (at least the students) near the end. The epilogue is 17 pages and is needed to wrap up all the storylines of all the characters.

What did I learn? Occam's Razor. I think that's why the editor decided to make the cover so simple.

University novels can sometimes be overly dull, but at other times they can be cozy and plush. The story is as dense as the day-before-yesterday's raisin cake, but if you soak it in tea like grandma used to soak crackers in gravy, it becomes really soft and delicious. And you can get excited, trip over history, and realize that the cake was a weapon of shock and awe. Because I laughed at the jokes and at the same time cursed myself for not having the courage to throw this book away.

"The Straight Man" seemed endless to me. I wanted to throw this book away every five minutes, but every time I got into a state of flow and couldn't break free. And when I wasn't in that state, I found more interesting things to do. The hero can't get rid of himself, and I can't figure out my feelings for Richard Russo. Sometimes I feel a chromosomal kinship, sometimes I try to reach out with my foot to give an invisible pendulum a push so that it moves faster. Russo is talking about Occam's razor again, and I'm yawning again. Nevertheless, in the end, the novel left a pleasant aftertaste and the feeling that I had read a book as thick as "Empire Falls". Although, wait a minute, it's actually only 80 pages shorter than "Empire Falls"! The story of Russell and the father of the main character, who didn't like Dickens and couldn't speak in public, deserves a special mention. A special love for the introduction, which is both sad and ironic to the point of ecstasy.

The funniest thing is that Russo managed to write a normal hero who doesn't insult everyone like a stand-up comedian, doesn't sulk like a victim, and doesn't get angry as if he's escaped from Palahniuk or somewhere else. He has no hemorrhoids, no addictions, no secrets. Amazing, right? But he has charisma and the ability to answer questions the way I would only answer the next day if I thought about it carefully. Let's call this a superpower.

Hank, the Happy Man, also has a negative trait - he's a know-it-all in his own head. No, he behaves well and responsibly, for which I have a low bow to the author, but all his thoughts about himself and other people, for some reason, are presented in the spirit of such sentences that it's no longer interesting to follow and you lose the thread. God, just call it a slut and be done with it! The thought police won't come and arrest you for short phrases without convoluted clauses.

And this is also a very funny book if you like the kind of humor that only works in the text. It won't make you laugh out loud, it won't even make you smile, but you'll appreciate the sardonic jokes. They're not forced, not dull, and they add an extra star to the novel. I also liked all of Hank's interactions with other characters - either it's harmless trolling (they asked for it themselves), or surprisingly reasonable actions (they invited it themselves). For this, it's very easy to identify with the main character and all that's left is to hope that in 16 years I'll be the same straight man.

I'm beginning to wonder if Russo is truly a one-book wonder.

First and foremost, I'm growing increasingly tired of the role of his protagonist's wife, who is always portrayed as smarter than everyone and has a snappy mouth, a characteristic that ran throughout both this book and Bridge.

Secondly, this has to be the most unlikeable leading male in literary history. Sometimes, an unlikeable character can be enjoyable (for some reason, I feel this is more often the case with heroines), but here it was simply irritating. Hank had a continuous stream of supposedly clever lines that failed to land and instead just made him seem like a jerk.

Moreover, the entire story was written in a way that felt like a never-ending attack. It was as if I was expected to understand the real issues at stake, but in all honesty, I couldn't. The concept of a gruff exterior but a nice inside guy can be endearing, but this particular character was anything but.

While this book had at least a bit more humor than Bridge, it still paled in comparison to Empire Falls. Aside from the one scene that inspired this recommendation (students in an English class saying things like, 'dude, it's like a metaphor'), I was constantly annoyed with all the characters at any given moment.

I firmly believe that Russo should stick to his meek and earnest protagonists because he simply doesn't play this tough and unlikeable character convincingly at all.

Finny, Qué Pasa?

Finny is a curious and lively little character. He is always full of energy and eager to explore the world around him. One day, Finny woke up with a big smile on his face, ready to start a new adventure. He hopped out of bed and looked out the window. The sun was shining brightly, and the birds were singing their beautiful songs.

Finny decided to go for a walk in the park. As he walked, he noticed all the different colors and smells. There were colorful flowers blooming everywhere, and the grass was a vibrant green. He saw children playing on the swings and slides, and he couldn't help but join in on the fun.

After a while, Finny got tired and sat down on a bench. He looked up at the sky and thought about all the wonderful things he had seen and done that day. He was happy and content, and he knew that there were many more adventures waiting for him in the future.

A dedicated "plot-driven trash" girl, I somehow LOVED Straight Man. The protagonist, William Henry ("Hank") Deveraux Jr., is a 50-year-old who accidentally becomes the chair of the paranoid, in-fighting English department at the chronically underfunded West Central Pennsylvania University. This is a sort of third-rate state college in the depressing, depopulated town of Railton, Penn.

This book is a layered, "serious" novel that manages to be hilarious while bringing its characters through some deep self-realizations to a new place.

Hank wrote a well-received novel 20 years ago and has been dining out on it ever since. In reality, he's never escaped the shadow of his father, W.H. Deveraux, Sr., a trendy literary theorist, high-profile professor, and notorious womanizer who abandoned him and his mother when he was a boy.

Hank seems to survive by being a wise-ass and making light of everything. He's hilarious when he does this, and the book is full of gems. For example, when a faculty union representative accuses him of thinking the union defends incompetence and promotes mediocrity, he replies that he wishes they would promote mediocrity as it's a reasonable goal for their institution.

He even laughs about his absent father, who may return to Railton. He comments on his father's literary fame, noting that everyone buys his book but doesn't read it. Of his father's career, he observes that he's gone through a string of stints as a "distinguished visiting professor" because it's hard to remain distinguished among people who know you.

He has some self-awareness, but it serves as a defense. He notes his worst character flaw: that in the face of life's seriousness, its pettiness, its tragedy, and its lack of coherent meaning, his spirits are too easily restored.

The book's "action" is set in motion by two things. First, Hank's wife leaves town for a week for a job interview in Philadelphia. Second, in an act of frustration over his department's fiscal situation, he dons a fake nose and glasses in front of the university duck pond, with news cameras rolling, and threatens to kill "a duck a day" until the university gives him a budget. When a dead duck turns up shortly thereafter, his life starts to spiral out of control.

What follows are a series of misadventures. He's dogged by the fear that his wife is having an affair. He's "half in love" with at least three other women. He's subjected to a prostate cancer scare. His daughter's marriage deteriorates. His dog goes missing. The English department revolts against his "leadership." He's protested for animal cruelty. And to top it off, his father actually shows up.

It's typical of this novel's humor that, when Hank finds himself soaked in urine and trapped in a ceiling crawlspace above a faculty meeting where his colleagues are debating whether to replace him as chair, he thinks, "I appear to be a man in trouble." And things are about to get worse.

William of Occam figures big throughout the novel as a sort of lodestar for Hank's psyche. The book notes that what ails people is never simple, and Occam knew better than to apply his razor to the irrational. Hank aims to follow that beacon of rationality, even as the people around him and his own inner life show him that we aren't always rational.

In the end, the novel is like a Shakespearian comedy. Hank's wife comes home and some order is restored. But Hank is in a new place. He's not at peace with himself, but he has a new sense of local contentment and a bit of renewed energy to take some steps forward in his life. Richard Russo seems to think this is about as much as people can aspire to in real life, and it won't last.

4.5 stars rounded up. This book is truly a gem and I'll definitely have to add it to my list of favourite Richard Russo books. Alongside Empire Falls, Nobody's Fool, and Everybody's Fool, it holds a special place.

Richard Russo is an outstanding writer and storyteller with a remarkable sense of humour. His characters and their stories always manage to bring a smile to my face and a good laugh out of me. In this particular book, the hilarity is at its peak in parts. It primarily revolves around Hank, who is the Chairman of an English department in a Pennsylvania university. Hank has to face numerous challenges as he tries to balance the budget and maintain peace with other staff members.

The way Richard Russo weaves the story and portrays the characters is simply brilliant. The book is not only entertaining but also thought-provoking. It offers a unique perspective on the academic world and the people who inhabit it. I would highly recommend this book to anyone who loves a good laugh and an engaging story. It's a must-read for fans of Richard Russo and anyone who appreciates great literature.

I remember almost nothing about Richard Russo's Straight Man. I imagine I laughed a couple of times, and I think I enjoyed the reading experience. However, there is only one specific thing that I remember from the book itself. But more on that later, because I want to talk about the peripheral things I remember about Straight Man.

I remember reading it for a Literary Theory class, my first class at my new University, with one of my all-time favourite profs, Dr. W---. He admitted early on that he hadn't read it before. His wife, a librarian, always picked a "wild card" book for his classes. She chose Straight Man because Dr. W--- was the chair of an English Dept. in an underfunded university, dealing with bickering tenured professors. He apologized for the choice, but did a great job using it in class.

Meanwhile, in the back of the classroom, I made friends with a wonderful woman named MM. She was in her early fifties, a southern belle, and also the secretary of the English Dept. She audited a class every semester for fun, and Dr. W---'s class was her freebie. MM took a liking to me and recommended me to Dr. W---. I became the Grad Assistant for the next two years and met a woman I loved deeply.

Furthermore, every time I use a public restroom, I have a mindflash of the main character, HD, comparing his urine stream to those of the young bucks beside him. I can't take a public pee without thinking of the book or comparing my stream. Sadly, my stream isn't as powerful as it used to be, and now I worry about health issues. This is the one specific thing I remember from Straight Man.

As for what I think about Straight Man, who cares? Russo probably wouldn't care what I think. What matters is that the sight of the book's cover brings back memories of Dr. W---, MM, and that girl. And every pee I take reminds me of that cheesy red cover. That should be good enough for any author.

Shit... it would be for me.

We all have our first times in various aspects of life. However, in my case, it is quite rare to have a first-third reading of a favorite book. Such is the situation with "Straight Man," which, in my opinion, is one of the best works by the author. For those who are not familiar with Mr. Russo, he was awarded the Pulitzer for "Empire Falls," and a Paul Newman award-winning film was adapted from another of his favorites, "Nobody's Fool." Aptly titled, the author emphasizes that we all need a "straight man" in life, which is filled with ups, downs, and on occasions, even geese!

William Henry Devereaux Jr., the interim chair of the English department at a small Western Pennsylvania college, is a force to be reckoned with in ways that are hard to imagine. His colleagues despise his outlier antics, and his students pay little attention except for one. Married to Lily, he lives in the Allegheny Hills in Rialton, PA, where his neighbors include his daughter Julie and her husband Russell, and Mr. Pruit, who has a "thing" for Hank's Mom. A one-book author who uses the pen name "Lucky Hank" for his journalistic endeavors, it becomes clear that he is anything but lucky!

This being the third reading of the book, it is illogical to detail the plot points since I have written about it twice before. Nevertheless, this book is filled with laugh-out-loud acerbic humor, quirky characters, and much more. At the beginning, we are introduced to a young member of the English department whom Hank nicknames "Orshe" because of how he always adds "or she" when a reference to a male POV is made. This shows the creativity and sense of humor that Russo possesses in abundance.

At one point, Hank becomes frustrated with the administration's failure to provide a budget and publicly threatens to "kill a duck per day" from the campus pond until he gets the budget! Among the ducks is a deranged goose that Hank names Finny, paying homage to his least favorite colleague. Later in the story, the goose is found hung from a tree, and guess who gets blamed! Filled with raucous humor, it is Richard Russo at his best.

While I understand that the majority of my Goodreads friends prefer to read mystery or crime novels, taking a break to laugh out loud is the best medicine that money can buy. Therefore, I highly recommend that everyone add this book to their reading list. Trust me when I say that you will not be disappointed!