I'd like to buy Richard Ford a drink. In honor of Frank Bascombe, I'd like to make it an old fashioned.

I first read Richard Ford when I was far too young to appreciate him. I think I stumbled across "Independence Day" in late elementary school. It was an accidental encounter that didn't fully register with me at the time. However, I was glad to revisit him at the beach this summer.

In terms of logistics, "The Lay of the Land" is the third in a set of novels about Frank Bascombe's life. (Who is he, you ask? A modern-day self-deprecating Renaissance man of a sort). The first two, "The Sportswriter" and "Independence Day" (which won a Pulitzer), hold a special place in my family history. They are the only two works of fiction that both of my parents have read in my entire years of being cognizant of their reading habits. This shows that Ford's appeal is quite wide.

The end of the trilogy is truly remarkable. It is sweeping in its attention to the minutiae of life, and our idiosyncratic and fumbling reactions to said minutiae. This is meant in a completely excellent way. At this point, an easy description of the book's many and subtle virtues is escaping me, but suffice it to say that I really, really liked it. I found myself completely engrossed in the story, and it left a lasting impression on me.

Frank Bascombe is a baby boomer. He is white, heterosexual, and a real estate agent. He belongs to the upper-middle to upper class. A gentleman who, by all accounts, is privileged. He couldn't be more in vogue. Your story couldn't be more in demand.

However, it would be a pity if at some point in our history, the interest in written lives like that of Frank Bascombe were lost. There is something极其令人愉悦的 in the prose of Richard Ford, in his almost unchanging mezzo piano. The stoicism of Frank Bascombe, in his fifties, based on what he calls his Permanent Vital Period, is the stoicism of a privileged person who knows he is privileged, even when he is diagnosed with prostate cancer and his wife leaves him. "Misfortune does not really desire company, but conclusion," Frank thinks about the latter (appreciate the beauty of that sentence, of the two plosive sounds /k/ that it proposes). There is something enchanting in the benign humor of Frank, with an irony almost always directed at himself: "Three'sure things' in a row. The golden pattern of genuine acceptance," he thinks, after showing his own inability to answer anything better to his ex-wife during a phone call.

The cross-sectional empathy of Frank Bascombe (noted with special charm through his interactions with his real estate partner, a Tibetan Buddhist) makes him a good person. But Frank doesn't come to give us lessons, nor does he pretend to open his tormented heart to us or make visible the problems of the average American. If he does any of these three things, he does it organically, in the development of a story that lasts only three days, and mainly concerned about his daughter, his ex-wife, his absent wife, his crazy son, or the elderly father of an old ex-girlfriend.

The book is long, but if any part of the book seems less interesting to you, you can read it diagonally. I did it when he visits the mechanic, for example. Ford doesn't penalize you for picking up a few paragraphs later. Frank waits for the mechanic drinking in a lesbian bar, there it is worth reading again underlining with your finger, I warn you. Maybe Richard Ford errs a little on the side of excess, but not of being demanding. In fact, if we had to judge by the number of underlined sentences per page, I would say that Ford is a considerably more generous writer than average.

The third installment of Richard Ford's remarkable series of books featuring Frank Bascombe is truly a gem. Frank, a former sportswriter who has now become an outstanding realtor in New Jersey, takes center stage once again. The first two books in this series, namely "The Sportswriter" and "Independence Day," have already established Ford's reputation for capturing the essence of everyday life with great finesse. In this latest offering, Ford once again showcases his extraordinary talent for presenting the humor and pathos that exist within the ordinary. The story unfolds over a mere three days, yet it is filled with an astonishing amount of detail. It's as if Ford has the ability to magnify the smallest aspects of life and make them both entertaining and deeply moving. As a result of reading this book, I have gained a wealth of knowledge about southern New Jersey, knowledge that I never even knew I desired. It's a testament to Ford's skill as a writer that he can not only tell a great story but also expand the reader's understanding of the world around them.

I first read the Sportswriter at my dad's recommendation when he was the age that Frank is in The Lay of the Land.

At that time, I had no idea how this book would impact me. When I read the third book, I was the same age as Frank was in the first.

Okay, those two sentences aren't exactly profound, but this amazing trilogy did help me understand my father's life perspective.

It gave context to my own journey from youth into adulthood like nothing else I've ever read.

Sometimes when I panic and worry about how important the decisions of the "now" are, these books are a perfect tonic.

They serve as a reminder that time can be humbling and forgiving.

The characters and their experiences in the trilogy have taught me that life is a series of choices and that we should not be too hard on ourselves when things don't go as planned.

It has also shown me that with time, we can look back on our mistakes and learn from them, growing into better versions of ourselves.

This trilogy has truly been a life-changing read for me.

I first picked up this book approximately 10 years ago, and I was truly amazed by Ford's remarkable ability to vividly paint a picture of an edgier everyman character. This character, in his midlife, was living in my state (and perhaps even in America) during the time of the Millennium. The story takes place around the Thanksgiving holiday in 2000, right after the highly contested Bush/Gore presidential election controversy. As I read, I couldn't help but think that the numerous problems that plagued us back then are still very much with us now.

Ford's Frank Bascombe character finds himself at a distinct stage in life. He has transformed into a successful realtor who has come to terms with his life thus far and is attempting to look ahead at what lies ahead as he stumbles along. Bascombe's inner dialog seems so incredibly true and relevant that we will follow him anywhere on his minor 3-day storyline. We do so purely for the joy of finding out what happens next and how he manages to handle it. There is wisdom, comedy, and a pleasure in telling a tale that seems as real and unique as the Jersey Shore.

For those who are familiar with the Jersey Shore - and in particular the barrier island beach area - there is a wonderful level of detail about the vacation towns and the quirky people that make up a significant part of the book. The shore world revolves around property, family, and seasonality. Some people view the shore as a refuge, others see it as a lifestyle, and still others as an opportunity. I'm not certain about the details of Ford's research of the area and why he chose this particular area. However, it seems evident that he lived on the barrier island for a period of time in order to be able to provide such spot-on detail of the life and geography of the area.

For me, his profound insight into life, his rich description of characters, and his keen sense of place made my second reading of the book this year's summer pleasure. About five years ago, we purchased a summer home in Ortley Beach. Even after Hurricane Sandy devastated much of the island, the same vibe persists now as it did twenty years ago. Maybe it's the perfect place to live out the remainder of my own "Permanent Period." I'll always cherish the fond memories of an imaginary Sea-Clift and the real-world wisdom of Frank Bascombe to guide me through whatever lies ahead.

Richard Ford is a writer of great substance, and his novel Lay of the Land is a prime example of his remarkable oeuvre. This is the third installment of his novels featuring Frank Bascombe, a former sportswriter who has now become a real estate agent.

Bascombe is a natural observer, a trait perhaps honed during his days as a sportswriter. In this work, he offers countless insights into various aspects of life, including marriage, cancer, aging, and even George W. Bush. As a real estate agent, he spends a lot of time driving around the fictional New Jersey town of Haddam, and nothing escapes his notice - from the tiniest mosquito wing to the latest architectural trends and fast food restaurants.

The novel is set in the aftermath of the 2000 Gore v. Bush presidential election, which is briefly mentioned. However, the focus is more on Bascombe's introspection about what he calls "the Permanent Period," the stage of life between middle age and the end. He is debilitated by prostate cancer, and the narrative also humorously details his constant search for the nearest restroom.

Bascombe's voice is a unique blend of seriousness and sarcasm, and he finds both bitter amusement and frustration in the people he has to deal with, such as his daughter Clarissa's boyfriend and his former wife.

Ford's writing in Lay of the Land is truly masterful. His descriptions and sentence construction are deft, admirable, and often breathtaking. He is like a master craftsman at work, using his language to create a vivid and exacting world.

The novel is not so much about the events that occur, which are relatively minor and move the narrative at a slow pace. Instead, it is about the act of observation and the emotional experience of living in the world today. The world rotates around Bascombe's mind, and we, as readers, must learn to follow his journey.

Although the denouement contains an action sequence that is both surprising and feels a bit forced, given the meandering and free-flowing tone of the first 400 pages, it does not detract too much from the overall impact of the novel.

With Frank Bascombe's journey now over and the car parked, it is left to the reader to decide if there is a greater sense of epiphany about the journey itself, or about the meaning of his life. Perhaps Bascombe is a reflection of American life in the contemporary world, self-conscious and self-aggrandizing, yet also isolated from those around him through his own unique way of seeing the world.

I don't know what took me so long to get around to reading the Frank Bascombe books. But now, I truly wish I had done so earlier. As I was slowly making my way through "Lay of the Land", it was partly due to its great length and partly because Ford had said it was the last Bascombe book, and I just didn't want it to end. During this time, a number of people asked me what the Bascombe books are about. Well, it's about all that stuff that has been recognized in the last 50 years as worthy of literary awards. It's a story about a white man who gets married and divorced, raises some delightfully messed-up children, attempts to be a novelist but settles for becoming a sportswriter, burns out on that and then becomes a real estate agent. Basically, he navigates a life that is constantly teetering between perfection and complete disaster. Written over a span of 20 years, each book covers just a few days of Frank's life when something disastrous is about to occur. Over the course of the trilogy, Frank seems to face one tragedy after another, yet ultimately manages to land on his feet. Not in the way that everyone learns a lesson and their life is magically fixed, but in the way that real life often works out for the better. Frank's marriage falls apart, but he handles the divorce quite well. He goes through three careers, yet is ultimately financially stable and in a job that suits him. His kids are a bit odd, but in the same ways many of us are. And throughout it all, the story is narrated by Frank's voice, which is funny, world-weary, clever, and honest.

So why read a bunch of Richard Ford books that seem to be about the same things as Philip Roth and John Updike books? For one thing, the Ford books are phenomenal. They are alternately dark and funny. You don't just follow Bascombe, his family, and his career, but also the world he lives in: specifically, a fictionalized New Jersey that represents American suburbia/exurbia. You also get a view of late 20th-century American history. Each book is set a few years before it was published, allowing Bascombe to experience the events of the day as they happen, even though we, the readers, know the outcomes. In a way, 9/11 and its aftermath looms as a shadow over "The Lay of the Land", which is set in Thanksgiving week in 2000 (but published in 2006). Frank spends a lot of time despairing over the outcome of the 2000 presidential election and Bush's victory over Gore. As a reader, you can't help but think, "if you only knew what comes next."

In a talk at the Free Library of Philadelphia last year (and probably elsewhere), Ford passionately insisted that even though he had some more Bascombe notes hidden in his freezer, "The Lay of the Land" was the last of the Bascombe books. But things change quickly. Because last night, he read a new Bascombe story at the 92nd St Y - http://www.slate.com/blogs/browbeat/2.... I hope that Ford has some more Bascombe ideas tucked away in the back of his head. We've known Frank in his 30s, 40s, and 50s. I would love to see Frank in his 70s or 80s, facing old age, being taken care of by his kids, riding out his most recent marriage while maintaining friendly relations with his first wife, and reflecting on the housing bubble, Hurricane Sandy, and post-9/11 America.

Dense with detail, lush with perspective and crackling with wit and ostensible wisdom, The Lay of the Land packs about as much pleasure and satisfaction into a novel as would seem possible.

It is the third in what is apparently a four-book trilogy, all centered on Frank Bascombe, the main character and narrator. I think an argument could be made that this should have been Richard Ford’s Pulitzer-winner. This is not meant to be a slight to the worthy Independence Day or Canada. The latter, puzzlingly, won no major award, though it should have.

For me, personally, Ford occupies a place alongside, and nominally above, other favorite writers of mine that I (possibly illogically) lump into a similar vein: Richard Russo, Ivan Doig, Jim Harrison. I think of them all as contemporary white male American writers writing about contemporary white male America. But as much as I enjoy the others, Ford seems to operate on a different level. Works like this one remind me why.

To some degree, I assume Bascombe is a reflection, and possible alter ego, of Ford himself. His musings and insights seem somehow more biting and relevant, and more adult, not to mention more frequently funny, than other authors. Though I have similar thoughts about Russo when I’m reading his books.

It’s been so long since I read The Sportswriter and Independence Day that I barely registered they are the other books in this trilogy. This is a sure sign that anyone could read and enjoy this book without having touched the others. I highly recommend doing so. It took me almost two weeks to read this, and I can honestly report that each of those days was made better by knowing this book was waiting for me.

This is the third installment in Ford's Frank Bascombe series, which commenced with "The Sportswriter."

I was truly enamored with the first two books. However, this particular one presented some significant issues.

Specifically, it seemed to lack a coherent story. For several hundred pages, Frank merely drives around New Jersey, ruminating on his life and having rather aimless interactions with various people.

Then, in the final 50 pages or so, Ford suddenly decides to introduce some semblance of a story. But it comes across as random and difficult to believe.

Ford is undeniably a brilliant and frequently humorous writer. Nevertheless, I found it extremely challenging to remain engaged with this book.

It left me with a sense of disappointment, as I had such high expectations based on the previous installments.

Perhaps if the story had been more developed throughout the book rather than being crammed in at the end, it would have been a more satisfying read.

As it stands, this book falls short of the mark and fails to live up to the promise of the series.

Funny, melancholic, deep and moving. This is truly a remarkable book, serving as a terrific conclusion to Ford's Bascombe trilogy, even though Frank has now been resurrected in a new collection of stories.

After spending three books in his company, it's astonishing to think that Frank isn't real - that he isn't currently loitering in Haddam. But as full of life as he is, in "The Lay of the Land," Frank has reached the age of 55 and is confronting his own mortality. He may or may not overcome prostate cancer, but he now realizes that something, at some point, will claim him.

However, this is far from a disheartening book. Instead, it is both comforting and life-affirming. As always, Frank has his share of problems. Besides the dreaded "Big C," his second wife has deserted him, his first wife may be eager to rekindle their relationship, and his family is coming for Thanksgiving. Yet, the humor and humanity of both Ford and Frank shine through.

As ever, there are great setpieces, including a bar-room brawl, a visit to a demolition site, and a shocking and violent incident close to home. But there are also quiet, meditative moments, often centered on Frank's flawed yet poignant relationships with his wives and children.

But the Bascombe books don't merely offer insights into what it means to be human; they also reveal a great deal about modern America. Ford's genius lay in transforming Frank from a sportswriter to a realtor, enabling him to be intimately involved in the economic and social changes over two decades.

This was the first Bascombe book I read, and I was instantly smitten. Now that I have read the first two novels, rereading it has been an even greater pleasure, with the only regret being the moment when one has to bid farewell to Frank and his world.

I'm sure this is a perfectly good story.

However, I had such a hard time getting into it that I finally had to put it down.

The reason is that it was just way too wordy for my taste.

There was so much unnecessary description and detail that it made it difficult for me to focus on the main story.

Moreover, I didn't see any actual plot developing.

It seemed to be just going around in circles without really going anywhere.

Don't let my opinion sway you, though.

It has some excellent reviews from other readers who obviously saw something in it that I didn't.

It's just that it wasn't my cup of tea.

Everyone has different tastes when it comes to reading, and this one just didn't happen to suit mine.

Maybe you'll have a completely different experience and love it.

Give it a try and see for yourself.

Horrible.

Utterly and completely horrible.

Let me provide some context as to why I read all three books. I packed Ford's trilogy for a week-long trip to Paris. They were the only books in my bag and the only non-French books to be found.

Aside from Ford's now very obvious formula of chapter after chapter of Bascombe's narcissistic ramblings combined with, no surprise, yet another life-changing event about 60 pages from the end, what I disliked most about this book is a toss-up between two things.

First, there are statements that could only exist in a post-9/11 environment in what was supposed to be a pre-9/11 setting. For example, Bascombe makes 2-3 references to FBI profiling, which would only be plausible after 9/11.

Second, there are improbable geographic references. For instance, Bascombe's real estate partner's wife drops his kids off at school in Rumson, which is a 60-minute drive one way without traffic from the fictional town in which they live near Tom's River.

This combination of flaws makes the reading experience rather unpleasant and undermines the credibility of the story.