Old School

A novel written as memoir, this coming-of-age story is set in an exclusive and very literary New England prep school. The narrator is a scholarship boy bent on joining the ranks of the "great writers." Three such will be visiting the school during his final year--Robert Frost, Ayn Rand, and, dream of dreams, Ernest Hemingway. A student writing contest precedes each visit, with the guest choosing one submission whose student author receives a private meeting with the guest. The results are dead serious and very funny. Dan Cashman gives a sensitive reading that captures the essential nature of the characters, both students and masters. His portrayals of the aging and humane Frost and the impossibly confident and self-centered Rand are highlights not to be missed. Concerning Hemingway--you'll have to hear that for yourself. R.E.K. (c) AudioFile 2004, Portland, Maine

Starred review from October 13, 2003
A scholarship boy at a New England prep school grapples with literary ambition and insecurity in this lucid, deceptively sedate novel, set in the early 1960s and narrated by the unnamed protagonist from the vantage point of adulthood. Each year, the school hosts a number of visiting writers, and the boys in the top form are allowed to compete for a private audience by composing a poem or story. The narrator judges the skills of his competitors, avidly exposing his classmates' weaknesses and calculating their potential ("I knew better than to write George off.... He could win.... Bill was a contender"). His own chances are hurt by his inability to be honest with himself and examine his ambivalent feelings about his Jewish roots. After failing to win audiences with Robert Frost and Ayn Rand, he is determined to be chosen by the last and best guest, legendary Ernest Hemingway. The anxiety of influence afflicts all the boys, but in crafting his final literary offering, the narrator discovers inspiration in imitation, finding his voice in someone else's. The novel's candid, retrospective narration ruefully depicts its protagonist's retreat further and further behind his public facade ("I'd been absorbed so far into my performance that nothing else came naturally"). Beneath its staid trappings, this is a sharply ironic novel, in which love of literature is counterbalanced by bitter disappointment (as one character bluntly puts it, " just cuts you off and makes you selfish and doesn't really do any good"). Wolff, an acclaimed short story writer (The Night in Question
, etc.) and author of the memoir This Boy's Life,
here offers a delicate, pointed meditation on the treacherous charms of art. (Nov. 9)

Forecast:
This is Wolff's first full-length novel (and his first book in seven years) and as such will likely receive much critical attention. Fans of the author's short stories—regularly published in the
New Yorker—should be pleased by his departure from form.