At first, I regarded this book as simply "funny" in a way that elicited a continuous chuckle rather than an outburst of laughter. Naturally, it brought to mind my own six years as a graduate student and adjunct professor in English departments, where there was perhaps even more backbiting than we graduate students were aware of.

It seemed to me that the novel, set in an English department in the middle of nowhere, Pennsylvania, overused gags. Our English professor hero donned a fake nose and glasses before the local TV crew and grabbed a duck by the neck, threatening to kill a duck a day until he got the English department budget. Our hero's nose was mangled by the metal wiring from a spiral notebook wielded by a faculty enemy who smacked him after he made a disparaging comment about her poetry. And there were the stereotyped characters like the fiction student with his misogynist slasher stories, the sweet yet beleaguered department secretary who ended every statement with a question mark, the bimbo faculty wife who was always stoned and liked to wiggle her toes, or the youngest member of the English faculty who was so busy trying to be politically correct and gender neutral that he was dubbed "Orshee" for the extent of the novel.

As I write these examples, the book does seem funny, perhaps funnier than I experienced it while reading. The cliché phrase "It's funny because it's true!" comes to mind, and perhaps that is the point, reversed: some of these characters were so familiar to me that they were no longer funny - merely sad - and the parts that were hyperbolic to what I had experienced in real life thus struck me as hyperbole - i.e., in this context, merely gags.

While another cliché goes that "we can all use a good laugh," maybe I just appreciate a more serious take on life. And, to be fair, even the novel's other characters tell our hero that they would appreciate a more serious take on life than his best efforts. Hank, our hero, is the opposite of the "straight man," though occasionally he sets himself up as the straight man so that someone else can get off a joke. It felt for a while like there might be some important issues in this book somewhere, but everything was so lighthearted and deft that it was hard to take any of the issues seriously. Shrug.

On the theme of comedy versus serious themes, Russo catches my attention about two-thirds of the way through the book, with our character teaching a lesson to his class. Hank, after his aforementioned threat to kill a duck a day until he gets budget for his department, asks his class to write persuasive essays arguing if he should or should not actually make good on his threat. (This assignment got a laugh out of me - I wish I could have given such an assignment to my students.) While most of the class turns in essays saying Hank should go through with his threat, he argues they're wrong.

"Because," I explain to them, without conviction, "it was a comic, not a serious, threat. Because the man who threatened to kill a duck a day until he got a budget was wearing a fake nose and glasses. Because it makes no sense to carry out a comic threat to serious consequence."

Needless to say, we end where we began, unpersuaded. My argument, that tragedy and comedy don't mix, that they must remain discrete, runs contrary to their experience. Indeed, it may run contrary to my own. These students have watched this very class begin in low comedy and end in something, if not serious, at least no longer funny. They file out, sullen, confused (268).

With this, I have the sense that Russo is speaking directly to me, his reader: Pay attention, chica, I'm not just a funnyboy. Not that he seems to come down with a clear thesis about whether one can or can't successfully combine tragedy and comedy, but rather that he seems to be asking that we pay attention to the tension between the two.

And the book does begin to carry more weight, as seemingly hyperbolic characters become increasingly more real, and thus more felt by the reader, as the pages turn. Russo's humor also begins to carry gravitas around the thesis that, with middle age stability comes an unstable longing for change - even if that change might be disastrous to the one longing for it. We begin to see Hank's antics as simply a way to break out of the rut of his life. And, in a few moments of sincerity that juxtapose the humor, something truly poignant is articulated.

I do not want to die. I'm as sure of this, I think, as a man can reasonably be. I do not want to learn, when I speak to [my doctor] tomorrow, that the asymmetry he thought he felt in my prostate is a tumor, and yet, there is a part of me that would thrill to receive such news. Why that should be I cannot imagine. Nor do I want the woman that I'm married to and that I love to leave me, but the thought of her doing so moves me in a way that our growing old together and contentedly slipping, in affectionate tandem, toward the grave does not. The thought of Lily's having found someone to replace me is not welcome, but an urgent new love - and what makes the world stranger than love? - is a thing that I could half-wish for her. For me (323).

Why do I find this paragraph so moving? Because it's the first sincere thing Hank has said in 323 pages? Maybe. Do I find it all the more sincere because of this? Perhaps. And perhaps, too, it's because I can understand the sentiment, and it helps me to understand Hank's longings that have caused him to act so unseriously (the very thing I couldn't understand).

Ultimately, it seems to me that the tension between this longing for change/alienation and the habitual comfort of stability/community is what this seemingly light and funny book is about. Hank's confession that he feels a thrill at the possibility of dire news is offset by his acknowledgement that we deeply rely on the weight of our existing life, to hold on to ourselves.

The truth is, we never know for sure about ourselves. Who we'll sleep with if given the opportunity, who we'll betray in the right circumstance, whose faith and love we will reward with our own. [...] Only after we've done a thing do we know what we'll do, and by then whatever we've done has already begun to sever itself from clear significance, at least for the doer.

Which is why we have spouses and children and parents and colleagues and friends, because someone has to know us better than we know ourselves. We need them to tell us. We need them to say, "I know you, Al. You're not the kind of man who" (374).

Hank explains to us earlier in the novel that "I know you, Al. You're not the kind of man who..." is an exercise on characterization for fiction students - one I used in my own classrooms, when I taught fiction. "He was the sort of man who still opened doors for women." "She was the sort of woman who'd remember something you told her 5 years ago, and use it against you now in an argument as a sign of some moral failing." "I know you, Al. You're not the kind of man who would claim to have read something you hadn't."

The fiction exercise is useful for sharpening students' writing - to get at the essence of someone's character with only a few words. As a statement on us, we living human beings, it's interesting to think of how we're simultaneously supported and weighed down by the knowledge others have of us. I sometimes feel the longing to start all over, make all new friends and loved ones, and thereby erase all things from my past I'm ashamed of. But who would I be then? And who could I look to, to better understand?

William Henry Devereux, a college professor, is at the center of this novel that delves into the lives of the small group of professors he works with.

These professors have a complex relationship. They don't get along well, being highly competitive and constantly fearing being let go. Devereux and his family were pioneers in a way. They were the first to purchase a plot of land and build a house on a hill in a western Pennsylvania town within the "rust belt".

Gradually, one by one, his colleagues followed suit and bought lots around him, becoming his neighbors despite his attempt to escape them by moving outside of town.

The book is filled with humorous moments. For instance, one of his colleagues accidentally snags his nose on the metal spiral of her notebook, which she was straightening out of boredom during a meeting. His nose swells up badly, creating quite a sensation.

The story also explores middle-age marriage and his two grown daughters. The revelations made by his oldest daughter about her parents' marriage and their house are highly entertaining.

I suspect that this book might not be as funny to younger people. However, if you are of a certain age, many of the situations will sound eerily familiar.

Devereux's colleagues are doing everything in their power to increase his anxiety about his own dismissal, but he is valiantly fending them off. There is a major incident where he grabs a goose by the neck and calls it a duck on local TV. His wife is temporarily absent, and during this time, his daughter undergoes a major life change, and he and a colleague end up in a hot tub late at night. Poor Professor Devereux's life just keeps getting more and more complicated.

What makes this book so enticing to me is that his complications are not all that different from real life for most people I know. They are both sad and laughable.

The book concludes with a listing of what happens to the major characters as they progress through life. For Devereux, it brings an understanding of himself, an acceptance, and even a sense of gratitude for the life he has.

This was my very first encounter with a book by Richard Russo, and I can say with certainty that it will most definitely not be my last. There were two main reasons that led me to pick up this particular book. Firstly, I had the pleasure of meeting a like-minded lady at a literary lecture series that I regularly attend. She highly recommended that I read Richard Russo's works. Secondly, I wasn't quite sure which book of his to start with until I heard that this particular one was going to be adapted into a series called Lucky Hank. So, here I am, delving into the pages of this captivating story.

I would describe this book as not only hilarious but also as a deeply touching and poignant one. Henry (Hank) Devereaux, who is almost 50 years old, has reached a significant crossroads in his life. It could be considered a midlife crisis, or perhaps just a crisis in general. He is a professor and the chair of the English department at a lower-tier university in Pennsylvania. I think we can all relate to or know someone like Hank - someone who is constantly making wise cracks that are often seen as annoying.

As my mother always reminds me, "Humor is a poor substitute for accuracy" and "a poorer proxy for truth." Hank is a firm believer in Occam's Razor, to the extent that he even names his dog Occam. While reading this book, I couldn't help but constantly think of Murphy's Law. Poor Hank - within just one week, everything that could possibly go wrong, does go wrong.

The world of academia and university life is explored in great detail in this book. In my opinion, it may have been a bit too long-winded at times. However, I would say that this is my only minor complaint about the book.

This entire book is told from Hank's perspective, which at times could be quite exhausting. But, the more I got to know him, the more I found myself truly caring about him. He would hate to admit it, but deep down, he really did care for the people in his life, even though with all his witty remarks, it was often difficult for them to see.

I truly enjoyed this book! I know that I will remember Hank for a very long time to come.

Published: 1998

Dear Mr Russo,

I've just finished reading "Straight Man", the fourth of your books that I've devoured, including "Empire Falls". I truly believed that "Empire Falls" was an outstanding piece of work. However, in my humble opinion, you should have been awarded the Pulitzer for "Straight Man". I would have voted for it in a heartbeat, but alas, I'm not on the panel. If only I were, I'd毫不犹豫地 cast my vote for it.

You know, I had to endure a long wait to get my hands on this book. My local library didn't have a copy, so I had to order it from The Book Depository in the UK, even though I'm in Australia. As a result, it took some time to arrive. And let's not forget the microscopic print in the copy I received. It was so tiny that I had to splurge on a new hardback edition from the US. The cost was higher, the postage was astronomical, and it took yet another little while to be delivered. But boy, was the wait worth it! "Straight Man" is simply brilliant, witty, extraordinarily funny, and utterly unforgettable. It was the best two days I've ever spent immersed in a book.

Here's a little secret between you and me: If you based Hank Deveraux Jr on someone you know, please send him my way. I could really use a dose of his talented, comedic, and offbeat outlook these days. And I'd absolutely cherish having someone around whose life is filled with such hilarious moments as his.

The people sharing the train carriage with me on the four-hour trip to Melbourne didn't quite appreciate the ripples of laughter, the knee-slapping, or the chuckles that escaped me while I was engrossed in "Straight Man". In fact, I was so afraid that someone would toss the innocent yet exhilaratingly humorous novel off the train in my absence that I nearly took it into the bathroom with me.

Actually, if I were on the panel, I'd go so far as to say, "Give him the Pulitzer for both novels."

signed
B the Book Addict

From the dust jacket:
“Packed with scenes of pure genius, and memorable characters – from the egregious administrator Pope to the manic dog Occam – Straight man is another triumph of humour and humanity by the author of Nobody's Fool. Exhilarating, hilarious, with a dark and tender undertow, this is the unforgettable portrait of a middle-aged man caught somewhere between cause and effect.”

A very funny look at the life of an University professor in a small Pennsylvania town. The professor, let's call him Dr. Smith, has a rather interesting daily routine. He wakes up every morning to the chirping of birds outside his window. After a quick cup of coffee, he heads off to the university, where he engages in lively discussions with his students. In the classroom, he is known for his witty remarks and unique teaching style that always keeps the students entertained.

During his breaks, Dr. Smith can often be found in the campus cafeteria, chatting with his colleagues and sharing humorous stories. After a long day of teaching, he likes to unwind by taking a walk around the small town. The charming streets and friendly neighbors always put a smile on his face.

In the evenings, Dr. Smith relaxes at home, reading his favorite books or watching a good movie. Despite the challenges and pressures of university life, he always manages to find the humor in every situation and enjoy the simple pleasures of living in a small town. His life is a perfect example of how to balance work and play, and how to find joy in the little things.

The story of a language teacher seems to have used up his luck as "Lucky Hank". It is a melodramatic and humorous tale that unfolds in a series of events. At times, it is hilariously funny, making you burst out laughing. The teacher's antics and the situations he finds himself in are truly comical. On the other hand, there are also moments that are philosophical, making you stop and think about the deeper meaning of life and luck. The story takes you on a rollercoaster ride of emotions, from laughter to reflection. It shows how one person's perception of luck can change over time and how unexpected events can turn a seemingly lucky life upside down. Overall, it is a captivating and entertaining story that will keep you engaged from start to finish.

While I was reading this book, I was unexpectedly captivated by it. It had a strange allure that made it impossible for me to put down. Before I knew it, an entire 24-hour period had passed, and I had devoured the entire book in one sitting. The story was so engaging and the characters so vivid that I felt as if I was living their lives along with them. I was completely immersed in the world that the author had created, and I didn't want to leave. It was a truly remarkable reading experience, one that I will not soon forget.

Loved, loved, loved this book.

The main character, Hank Devereaux, is truly a mess, yet he is also highly likable.

On his academic campus, Hank is the rebel without a cause. He takes great delight in being unpredictable and stirring things up, often resulting in hilarious situations.

However, there is more to this novel than just humor. Hank, who is approaching his 50th birthday, is coming to terms with the passing of his youth and his own mortality.

This situation, along with the insights provided to the reader through Hank's first-person narrative, makes the character extremely believable.

We come to realize that Hank's often outrageous behavior may be his only way of coping with the reality of what his life has become compared to what he had initially thought it would be.

The author has done a remarkable job of creating a complex and engaging character in Hank Devereaux, and this book is a must-read for anyone who enjoys a good story with depth and substance.