the fourth hand tracks a character so devoid of redeeming or interesting characteristics one would be pressed to hold a four minute conversation with a real-life version of the guy. aside from the man's noteworthy maiming, this human has no business getting a novel's worth of attention. and he surprisingly proves as uninteresting after his incident as he was before. i mean, the story here is as gripping as reading three hundred pages about an attractive high school quarterback who suffered a knee injury mid-season. as i read, i kept wondering how the inventor of garp, owen meany and the berry family could divine a personality so lacking or more to the point, be satisfied with the flow and outcome of the story.

anyone who has read more than one novel by john irving knows he's a solid maker of curious characters. had someone else written this, maybe, and i stress the 'maybe', i'd garner an ounce of passion for the lead. but i expect more from irving because he is irving. and, i hate to be part of that 'you're only as good as your last set' mentality (because i think it's wholly unreasonable), but such is the way of a medium that requires such a time commitment from its audience.