I'm encouraged to see that I'm not the only one who thought this book wasn't so hot. After reading all the pages of raving blurbs, I thought I'd really be in for a treat. But I couldn't believe in it (and this is from another aging--okay, old--gay man). I spent so much energy slogging through the writer's attempts to be clever in every single sentence that I couldn't get involved with the character or story. I will admit that I laughed out loud a few times, and that's a lot more than I get out of the majority of books I read, but overall it was tedious, difficult reading. I was left wondering if "winner of the Pulitzer prize" was just part of the title--a bit of irony based on Less's older lover's having won the prize.

Arthur Less is hilariously well-named. In the opening salvo, he is waiting to be escorted to a literary event, sitting in a hotel lobby, while a woman he is meant to meet is circling the room looking for a woman, mistakenly thinking the author of the book she's read cannot be a man. On the eve of Arthur's fiftieth birthday, his partner of almost ten years has announced his upcoming nuptials, and in order to avoid this nightmare, Arthur has cobbled together a trip around the world accepting an odd congregation of invitations to host, attend, and teach various literary events. With each stop, he goes into his past, revealing more and more about himself and his history. Each experience generates memory, both poignant and absurd. Greer has a fine sense of character and irony, and this surpasses other books I've read by him.

The least attractive part of "Less" is the main character, Less himself. He's a shlump. Unappealing and frankly uninteresting. Beyond that, the writing is show-offy, making you conscious of the author's choice of words and structure. To be fair, I did not finish the book. I got about 1/3rd of the way through and just didn't care what happened in the rest of the book.

What was the Pulitzer group thinking?!? Based on the Pulitzer designation and based on some of the endorsements from favorite writers (Ann Patchett), my book club chose "Less". All six of us (college educated women ages 35 to 71) disliked it. The criticisms were that the main character was uninteresting, unsympathetic and unrelatable; that the paltry humor was only mildly amusing (not "hysterical" as one endorsement said), the ending was predictable and anticlimactic; and that we finished reading it out of duty to the club, not because the book was compelling. In other words, we couldn't care less about "Less". The only redeeming aspect was the interesting way the author would weave past and present together in the narrative. I cannot recommend this book and the Pulitzer people need to reexamine their standards.

After I started reading Less I immediately thought “So, why did this win the Pulitzer?” Then, about half way through, I began to understand. By the time we get to Morocco with Arthur Less, I was mentally comparing Less to Lolita, though the characters are nothing alike. While you hate the protagonist Humbert in Lolita, there is no denying the power of the novel. And where you will love the protagonist Arthur Less, it is the writing that shines here, not the sweep of the story or the depth of the characters. Is there a literary genre called Profound Humorous Romps? That’s where this book belongs. This is not a “gay” book, but Arthur is gay. This is not a story about middle age, but Arthur is confronting his own aging. This is a story about how humans are constantly swimming upstream against life. This is a story about how humans are old or young or bald or sad or beautiful or boring and sometimes we are more, but sometimes we are…(wait for it)…Less. I just hope Arthur turns sixty really soon, and Andrew Greer brings us a new book so we can ride shotgun again with Less.