375 pages of 5-star writing for a one-star character. It can indeed be accomplished, and Updike managed it with that lousy character, Rabbit Angstrom. However, in that novel, at least the reader had some degree of insulation. There were no first-person meandering musings. Ford presents you with that in Frank Bascombe, a one-hit fiction writer who has withdrawn to a life of sportswriting. As the novel commences (supposedly), he is mourning the loss of his son. He has been divorced for two years, yet his ex (referred to as "X" ho-ho) lives nearby with his other two children. Their relationship seems amicable, although one wonders why she tolerates him. Frank is constantly on the prowl, whether it was before his son's death or after, although he attributes his current state of "dreaminess" to that loss. (You can essentially call bullshit on him throughout the entire book.)

Frank's current love interest is a young nurse (herself a divorcee), who, as the novel progresses, sounds more and more like Susan Sugarbaker (Delta Burke) from "Designing Women." That's a coincidence, but I wasn't surprised to see both the book and the show, in an unfair and inexact comparison, debuting in 1986. It wasn't difficult to envision Delta decking Frank. The more condemnatory comparison is with Updike's creation. I see nothing wrong with a new Rabbit for new times. It's a great concept. And the fake quaintness of suburbia (which Frank cynically adores) is always prime material. Ford undoubtedly has the writing skills to pull it off. What's more concerning is Ford's attempt to impose some sort of religious overlay, with events taking place during Easter week. Why? It worked with Updike's Rabbit because Rabbit had some residual awe rooted in his old-time Lutheranism. Frank doesn't believe in anything, and if the cheap crucifixion of an asshole is what Ford intended, it's a misfire throughout the entire book. You'll have to determine whether this is homage or imitation of Updike's previous effort. I found it too close for comfort and poorly executed at that. More effective, late in the novel, is Frank's improbably hearing (it is April in New Jersey) of a pool splash from a suburban swimmer. I'm certain this was meant to be a nod to Cheever's great short story "The Swimmer." There are some great and highly amusing moments in "The Sportswriter." One of the greatest moments occurs early in the novel when Frank attempts to interview a partially paralyzed football star. At one point, the star looks at him and tells him he's "Full of shit." More than once. This episode could potentially stand alone as an excellent short story. The other sections could also function as short stories.

*I am currently reading Ford's Frank follow-up, Independence Day. I have slightly revised my earlier assessment and rating of The Sportswriter. The version of Frank in Independence Day is the same guy, but older and more contemplative. I'm discovering that he is a natural progression from the earlier asshole (and he still might be an asshole), but from a storytelling perspective, I find the transition impressive. In other words, The Sportswriter is a necessary foundation for Independence Day.

Some life is only life, and unconjugatable, just as to some questions there are no answers. Just nothing to say.

The Sportswriter presents a detailed narrative of Frank Boscombe's thoughts and emotions throughout a long Easter Weekend. Despite his claim of not having much to say, Frank actually expounds a great deal in the book. As he attempts to find his place in life, his descriptions are often meandering and indistinct. At times, he is objective, cold, and empirical, while at others, he is completely overcome by intense feelings, a combination of heat and sadness.

However, at his core, Frank is a writer, and as the saying goes, "writers—all writers—need to belong. Only for real writers, unfortunately, their club is a club with just one member." I believe a more accomplished writer would embrace this sense of solitude. Can one truly see the world and describe it accurately if they are too deeply involved in it? Yet, Frank has a strong desire to be a part of it, and this compulsion drives his memories and emotions.

Overall, the writing in The Sportswriter is excellent. However, I found Frank to be a bit too self-centered and obsessive, especially when it comes to himself and how others perceive him. Some aspects of the story have not aged well, with derogatory terms like "negroes" and "hundred-dollar whores" scattered throughout the book. Even at the time Ford wrote it, these words were considered inappropriate. Thankfully, the story is set in the early 80s, so Frank didn't have access to social media.

Although The Sportswriter is well-written, it didn't really resonate with me. After the first few chapters, I lost interest in what happened to Frank, and the rest of the book felt like a tiresome chore to finish. I would recommend this book to foolish young men and the women who are trying to connect with them.

Frank Bascombe, a sports journalist and former writer, makes his first appearance.

Some years ago, his son Ralph passed away, and since then, a series of fissures have emerged in his life. This has led him to separate from his wife (referred to only as X here) and enter a phase of transition that he still doesn't fully understand or confront.

Narrated in the present during a long Easter weekend, it's an immersion into Frank's thoughts, doubts, and fears. It's a book that tackles the disillusionment of aspirations and in which one confronts failure (in family relationships, in personal connections, and in work). It's steeped in suburban melancholy.

There are several moments that stick in the mind: his friend Walter telling him about a guy he knew in a bar in New York, the letters Peggy sent him, the interview with the wheelchair-bound football player, the photos of the missing woman and old Mindy in the sales catalogs.

Overall, however, it stops a few steps away from the memorable. It's not Herzog, that's for sure. [72/100]

The writing style presented in this book might not be to everyone's liking. However, it is truly a deep and thoughtful piece of work, with a touch of melancholia that lingers throughout.

At times, the narrative does seem to drag, but if one perseveres and sticks with it, the rewards are rich.

The book is set over just a few days, yet it incorporates a great deal of reflection on the past during present moments, and this technique works extremely well.

I firmly believe that if you are in your thirties and are currently pondering about life, you will be able to relate to this book on a profound level. It offers insights and perspectives that can resonate with those who are at a stage in life where they are questioning and seeking meaning.

Overall, despite its flaws in pacing, this book has much to offer in terms of depth and thought-provoking content.

I give up.

Nothing, and I mean literally nothing, happens. This is navel-gazing at its absolute worst. It's truly a frustrating experience.

It is said that his Independence Day is the sequel. But after starting this one and only getting to page 84 after 2 days, I can't imagine having any desire to read that.

The story seems to be going nowhere, and I'm left feeling bored and unengaged.

Ugh! It's a real disappointment. I had such high hopes for this book, but it has failed to deliver.

I think I'll have to look for something else to read that can capture my attention and keep me entertained.

Maybe I'll give another author a try and hope for a better reading experience.

The book had its merits, but it also had a significant drawback. It could have been four stars if the book was 150 pages shorter. The excessive length made it a bit of a slog to get through at times. The story itself was interesting enough, with engaging characters and a well-developed plot. However, the author seemed to have a tendency to go off on tangents and include unnecessary details that could have been omitted without sacrificing the overall quality of the story.

If the book had been more concise, it would have been a much more enjoyable read. The pacing would have been tighter, and the reader would have been able to stay more engaged with the story. As it was, the length made it feel a bit bloated and could have potentially deterred some readers from finishing it.

Despite this, there were still many aspects of the book that were值得称赞. The author's writing style was engaging, and the descriptions were vivid and detailed. The characters were well-rounded and relatable, and the plot had enough twists and turns to keep the reader interested. With a bit of trimming, this could have been a great book.

Life is not a team sport, as I have come to realize. Instead, it is like a boxing ring.

If you happen to have gloves, you are indeed in luck. However, more often than not, you are caught off guard and never see the punch that knocks you down.

Ford's sportswriter, for instance, has been floored by two powerful punches. The first is the tragic death of a child, and the second is divorce.

So, don't expect a lively voice from him. This is a man who is lying face down on the mat, bleeding.

"How exactly did I get to here, is what I would like to know," he wonders. Since his usual inclination, when finding himself in unfamiliar surroundings, is to analyze and consider what forces have led him there. He also ponders whether this course is typical of what he would call his life or if it is just an extraordinary incident and nothing to worry about.

Making sense of loss is an essential part of the healing process. Meet Frank Bascombe, the sportswriter. He has been hit hard by life's blows. Ford, the author, handles this subject matter with the skill and precision of a doctor sewing up a cut eye, delicately and expertly.

"Sometimes life is just life and that's it, like certain questions are without an answer."

"Pain, true pain, is relatively brief, but grief can be long."

"What is the true measure of friendship?....It amounts exactly to the quantity of precious time one wastes listening to the misfortunes and messes of others."

Five stars because:

I started without great expectations and, even having had the temptation to abandon it two or three times, it made me continue, and it's not exactly a thin book.

It takes place in two days and, almost, nothing exceptional happens but you can't tear yourself away.

I'm happy to have met a good American writer, of whom I will continue to read the novels slowly: happy to still have so many beautiful books to read!

I recommend the beautiful review of @Paolo del ventoso est which, once again, I fully share (but he is better at writing comments). Thank you Paolo!

Un Străin al lui Camus mai cinic, mai crud, mai nesimțit. He is a traitor of the moment, an idolater of the present, and a refuser of abyssal psychology. He is the perfect amoralist, the uprooted one, the sociopath, and the antipathetic one.

The protagonist - likely to shock feminist readers, but also the category of sensitive Romanian literary minds.

He represents a complex and controversial figure, challenging the norms and expectations of society. His actions and beliefs are often at odds with the traditional values and moral codes. Camus creates a character who forces us to question our own assumptions and perspectives.

Despite his flaws and negative traits, there is something captivating about this stranger. He may be amoral, but he is also unapologetically himself. His presence in the story adds an element of mystery and intrigue, keeping the readers on the edge of their seats.

Whether we love him or hate him, we cannot deny the impact that he has on the narrative. He is a character who will stay with us long after we have finished reading, making us think about the nature of good and evil, and the boundaries of human behavior.

Occasionally, there is good writing that manages to work against my own personal dislike for the subject matter being described. This could be sports, sportswriting, or even relations between men and women. For example, the thought "Being a man gets harder all the time" from 1986. The story-telling style that Bascombe indulges in, where his perceptions of others are just that, often verges on the patronizing and codependent. In fact, it crosses that line frequently. It's like a coming-of-age book that lacks the actual process of growing up. As I mentioned in a comment, it supposedly teaches the gentle art of letting go of principles, ethics, illusions, and more, but without making meaningful connections. This is definitely a man's book, with all that that implies (and left undefined for your amusement). No wonder this book had such appeal at the time of its publication. There are two sequels, but it's good to know that I don't have to read them.

The Sportswriter: Richard Ford's Bleak View of the American Dream

Richard Ford's The Sportswriter presents a complex and often bleak portrait of the American Dream through the eyes of protagonist Frank Bascombe. The story begins with Frank's introduction, a sportswriter living in a Tudor house in Haddam, New Jersey. His life, once filled with promise and the anticipation of a "good life," has taken a series of turns that have left him disillusioned and disconnected.

The disintegration of Frank's marriage, following the death of their first son Ralph, is a central theme. Despite the tragedy, there is no blame cast between Frank and his former wife "X." However, much has happened in between, including Frank's abandoned novel and his job at a glossy sports magazine. His ability to ingratiate himself with those he interviews masks his lack of real connection to his assignments.

Frank's relationships with women are also fraught with complications. His encounter with a woman on a plane leads to a series of letters that imply an intimacy that doesn't exist. His relationship with Vicki, a nurse from Texas, is short-lived and ends in disaster after he makes a crucial error. Frank's formula for wooing women, which involves a quick declaration of love, reveals his shallow approach to relationships.

Frank's relationships with other men are just as tangential. His membership in the Divorced Men's Club is more about socializing than forming deep connections. The suicide of a club member, Walter Luckett, further highlights Frank's lack of understanding and connection with others.

Overall, The Sportswriter presents a scathing indictment of contemporary American society, where people live in isolation and are committed only to their own dreams. Frank Bascombe represents the modern human being, adrift in a world that has lost its sense of community and connection. Richard Ford's beautiful writing and crystal-clear characterizations make The Sportswriter a powerful and thought-provoking novel that continues to resonate with readers today.

I lost this poor book under my bed back in '07 and just uncovered it.

It's quite astonishing to think that it lay there forgotten for such a long time. I must have been really enjoying it initially to let it remain there for a good half year without any attempt to retrieve it.

But when I finally returned to the trials and tribulations of a near-forty-year-old sportswriter in the 1980s, something remarkable happened. All of a sudden, his dreamy, midwest-meets-Jersey language and his sensitive yet overly-mysogynistic way of thinking really resonated with me.

I found myself completely engrossed in every last page. However, despite my enjoyment, I still wouldn't recommend this to my peers or really to anyone.

The more you listen to Frank Bascombe rationalize and explain his comings and goings, the less of a sleazy, aging predator you start to see him as. But that's really all he is.

Richard Ford just has such a remarkable way with words that he manages to get us to sympathize with him, even though his character has some rather unappealing qualities.

It's a strange and fascinating literary phenomenon that keeps me thinking long after I've finished reading.