Soldiers of Fortune Book

Benjamin Franklin once said, "Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days." I often think of this when reading a book like MODEL HOME. Sometimes it's the characters and sometimes it's the plot, but no matter what its redeeming qualities (and this book has some), the novel wants to drive you away.

So, what's that "smell" in the case of MODEL HOME? Depression, chiefly. The book is a relentless downer. But if it's art, why should that matter? True, but it does. Justice is no more blind than the book reviewer, and you do your best, but still - *sniff* -- what's that funky smell?

Author Eric Puchner brings us the All-American family in the form of the Zillers - feckless father Warren, corny mother Camille, daring rocker Dustin, sad experimenter Lyle (a girl, thank you), and chiefly-ignored Jonas. They have moved to Southern California from staid Wisconsin, and each chapter features one of these protagonists with the exception of the weird waif, Jonas, who is saved as a plot device of sorts to be used later in the book (and God save us from characters that tick via a plot device!). Like most dads in our modern culture, Warren is one hapless screw-up of a loser - and lose he does, in the form of the family's finances. The resulting train wreck takes no prisoners, as author Eric Puchner saves a vial of doom for each and every Ziller.

At about the halfway point, the novel goes from "dark" too "claustrophobic" as an explosion leads to Dustin becoming a burn victim. Cut down in the prime of life, the lad turns into the metaphoric equivalent of King Lear on the heath, spewing anger, bitterness, and gall. Alcoholism and guilt move in to this MODEL HOME, the smell of singed skin now blending with the smell of 3-day old fish. Here, with visions of NO EXIT dancing in his head, the reader begins to scout for escape routes. None seem evident. Husband and wife are torn asunder. Daughter Lyle goes looking for love in all the wrong places. Everyone ignores Jonas. And Dustin rots away, both inside and out.

Despite the full eclipse covering any semblance of optimism, Puchner DOES offer occasionally brilliant bits of writing. He trained as a short story writer, and he shows an attention to detail that gives one pause at times. For instance, Lyle is drawn to this obviously shallow but beautiful girl she works with named Shannon. When Lyle takes her plain friend Bethany to a party and they see Shannon there, Bethany does not understand Lyle's fascination, but Puchner clearly does:

"Bethany did not understand [Lyle's:] persistent friendship with Shannon. Lyle had tried to explain it, but the truth is she did not understand it herself. It had something to do with Shannon's beauty. Not just the long, flattering, irresistible shadow it cast, but the loneliness hidden inside it like a pearl."

Coming out of this book, I feel thankful for the fresh air (read: new book), but I can at least admit that Puchner is worth a second look. Here the depressing topic was like an anaconda, squeezing the very spirit out of this book -- at least for subjective old me. Under less dire circumstances, Puchner's writing might just take wing and fly. So maybe I'll go to the housewarming to the next house. Who knows? Puchner just might nail it with more positive vibes.