Adam Davies: The Frog King

By MICHAEL LARSEN

Oh, no, I thought. A story about a struggling writer who works in a humdrum job at a major publishing house, a role where his genius isn't recognised, a misunderstood talent who drinks in all the wrong places and slaves late into the night in his tawdry, roach-infested apartment on the manuscript that will change the world.

His girlfriend, Evie, of course, loves him for his mind, despite his inability to live life on life's terms.

Why should he? He's an artiste.

And guess what? Adam Davies once worked at Random House. Of course he did. So this cynical rendering of the world of letters is based on experience.

And Brett Easton Ellis wrote a few choice words on the cover for our Adam. And Steven King's wife designed said cover. Davies may rail against publishing, but it seems to have served him rather well, actually.

Anyway, the story. Harry Driscoll is the regal frog of the title. And while he is crazy about Evie, which is the basis of the narrative, Harry is sleeping with an older woman who is well placed in the publishing world. Harry undertakes this Faustian pact only in an effort to lift himself above the dross of daily existence and, being an artiste, he feels justified in doing so. He is racked with guilt, of course, but means and ends and all that, huh?

The plot you can pretty much pick. The characters?

Harry is all Holden Caulfield - he hates the world and where Caulfield hated phonies, Harry detests cliches.

Harry does have an altruistic side, to a degree.

He reads books to dying kids in a cancer ward for a while, which is where he meets Birdie, who becomes a street urchin after her brother succumbs to the disease.

She pokes her head above the narrative's parapets, and provides some colour and humour amidst Harry's angst.

Sure, The Frog King rolls along merrily enough, and certainly tastes of New York a la Bright Lights Big City.

Unfortunately, Harry is just a bit too unlikeable - we know he really is a well-intentioned twenty-something, but he does so little to help himself that we feel little sympathy for his plight. The other characters are more rounded - the quirky, physically suffering Evie who, unlike Harry, is non-complaining about her ailments; the, oh-oh, quirky Jordie with whom Harry plays logomachy (semantic games); and there's the well-drawn Birdie.

And Davies does write well. Harry reads the dictionary, and Davies obviously has - there are some fabulously obscure entries here, and there is a great deal of humour amid the misfortune.

It's just a touch self-reverential for me. The autobiographical parts are screamingly obvious, as are Davies' influences.

To write an Ellis-style book about New York and then use one of Ellis' titles as an adjective (glamorama) is a touch postmodern for my liking.

The Frog King is a good(ish) read. I just prefer things a little less obvious.

* Allen & Unwin $26.95

* Michael Larsen is an Auckland freelance writer.