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.

Tender, funny, sometimes melancholy, written with beautiful language. I first read a chapter of the novel when it appeared as a short story in The New Yorker earlier this year. It was a tour de force of carefully managed absurdity, heartache, and wistful humor. The book is just as good (although its structural device perhaps goes on a bit too long -- one country too many, maybe). Greer's writing is masterful. He manages to be meaningful and funny at the same time, an incredible balancing act. And he is just so lovely with words. This could have really gone off the rails, it could have been repetitive and gimmicky, but he's too skilled a writer for that. 4 stars instead of 5 (4.5 if I could) for what felt like a giving up at the end (that one chapter too many, and too quick an ending). Otherwise, a fantastic book and a truly great discovery.

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.

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.

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.