August 2, 2007
Jonathan Lethem and the mysteries of success
In Jonathan Lethem’s novel “You Don't Love Me Yet,” the action centers around a Los Angeles band that catch their lucky break while playing a song they didn’t really write at a gig where they were supposed to play silently.
If that seems convoluted, don’t fret: Lethem does a superb job of letting the story flow with only a few unwelcome plot twists and turns. Did I mention there’s a kangaroo kidnapping?
Much of the story follows the band’s bass player, Lucinda. She drops in and out of an affair with a man she became acquainted with while answering the phones for a ‘complaint line,’ set up by a local artist. The man calls the line and something about his longview perspective on life and his punchy language begin to set Lucinda’s heart a flutter.
The two enter into a steamy but brief affair even though the Complainer, as he is known through much of the novel until we learn his real name, Carl, seems out of place with Lucinda and her band mate friends. He is middle-aged, witty and focused; the band members come across as caricatures of starving art school students.
Carl also enters into a relationship with the band when he realizes Lucinda took notes of his complaints and passed them on to the group's lead songwriter. The band later performed the song with Carl's lyrics at the gig where they were supposed to play silently. Lucky for them, things didn't go as expected and they had to crank up the volume to keep the crowd entertained. Meanwhile, an influential local disc jockey hears them play at the party and invites them to perform live on his show. It's the first and perhaps only time the band gains some momentum toward reaching a wider audience.
Lethem gives us just enough to contemplate the mysteries of success. Carl is an unlikely suitor, both in his relationship with the band and his affair with Lucinda. And yet, his presence ignites passion in both instances. It says something about the roles played by favorable circumstances and inspiration from unlikely places.
For whatever reason, they're needed. The frustrating part for all aspiring lovers and artists is that we can never know when or how they will arrive.
After all, if we did know, we'd all be famous and in love. And what fun would that be?
“You Don't Love Me Yet” is published by Doubleday (240 pages, $24.95).