An old man is in a nursing home. He wants his son to kill him. He says things like “Wisdom does not with age. Wisdom comes from periods of excessive sexual activity.”

There is talk of many things, civil rights, philosophy, life. Something about Charlton Heston and Nat Turner playing backgammon. The musings of an old man? Maybe.

There’s confusion as to who is telling the story, which Percival Everett addresses, but doesn’t necessarily resolve. The sublimely ridiculous shares an armrest with higher thought as when another man tells about getting his testicles shot off during the Battle of the Bulge, “A battle so named was to add insult,” and the next paragraph references Euclidean geometry.

In time the old man takes a solid grip on the story as he and several other inhabitants of the nursing home do the same with their lives – to devastating effect, as they say. ( )

Rating: 4.6745

Everett's unusual jaunt defies description or genre due to what appears at first to be a dialog between father and son.

At 78, Virgil lives with other seniors in an assisted living facility, but he stands apart from the group in all ways. A novelist with Mensa level intelligence, his life views and sarcasm are highlighted as he pontificates and waxes poetic sharing an encyclopedic knowledge in first person POV. And while he loves his son, Virgil insists he should write rather than play doctor. What follows is completely unexpected.

The son's parallel story which while unique, is brought to halt half way through. From that point on, the reader is engaged through Virgil's stream of consciousness banter, poetry, scheming and back story using a variety of narrative POV's. To say it keeps the reader on their toes is a vast understatement. Virgil is not only unique, funny and unusual, his compassion and worldly knowledge of literature, science and history creates a memorable, engaging character; one that is rare above all else. As I reflect on Virgil's youth and unfathomable knowledge of books, authors and art, he defies stereotype, much as the author. Furthermore, its difficult not to reflect on Greek literature due to its poetic nature and metaphor.

Since Percival Everett is both author and esteemed English professor at USC, the reader is exposed to his wisdom, writing skill and extensive knowledge. And while black, his use of racial issues takes a back seat to story and characters; and for that I am deeply grateful. This being the fifth or sixth book I've read, to say he defies stereotype is an understatement. While most authors stick with one genre, Everett swings his bat at variety using creative characters, plot and POV, and humor that's off the charts. And if humor is something you enjoy, make sure to add "I am Not Sidney Poitier" to your list.

So when/if you pick up one of his books, remember the Forrest Gump line, "Life's like a box of chocolates..." And that's why he's risen to the top of my list! ( )

Mr. Everett has been on my insane TBR list for at least a decade. As he keeps pushing out these books, the need to read his books has grown. I always suspected he is this underappreciated super brilliant writer. Finally it looks like he has been receiving a bit of recognition and more readers lately! This book is already a bit of puzzle -- a bit meta, which I love. To be honest I was busy and reading a few pages at a time, then setting it down -- which is a horrible way to read a book, especially one such as this. So I'm sure 90% of the book went over my head anyway. But I did like what was here. Many special moments even if I'm not quite sure how it all pieces together. I just don't think it made a ton of sense to me either way. I wonder if Everett's other books seem to be shoving the reader away. But no doubt from this reader that Everett is smarter than most of us. I'd set this on the shelf beside Victor LaValle's 'The Devil in Silver'. ( )

"Oh, that's what 'epiphany' means!" ( )

I dunno, I liked it at times. At least during the times I understood what was going on. For some reason this was a tough read, maybe it was the word play and the different narratives. I could be I wasn't in the mood, or perhaps I am not smart enough to have enjoyed this book.

Regardless of my issues I kept thinking, "I wish Everett would get out of his own way and just tell us a great story." Which is something he is very capable of. I feel like a great story beats the writer's technical pyrotechnics any day of the week.


To my friends who've read and enjoyed this book a lot what am I missing? ( )