The movie might be better.

Book: Election

Author: Tom Perrotta

Published: Damn. I don’t know.

Pages: 200

Well, that was sort of shitty.

I’ve wanted to read Election for awhile, ever since I heard about the movie version and how good it’s supposed to be. Of course my first instinct was to think “I bet the book’s better” and then avoid both until I saw the book in a secondhand store and sat down to read the whole thing during the four hours I thought I had work which is actually tomorrow but I was already out and what the hell, home didn’t expect me back until 5 p.m.

This story’s concept is interesting and has a lot of natural dramatic potential. A well-liked high school teacher throws away two ballots to let his favorite student candidate win the election for school president. The story unfolds from all the major character’s perspectives, in clumps that were nicely organized by person but too short to allow any real characterization growth. (The janitor who finds the thrown-away ballots is more effective in his two or three paragraphs than the other characters who’ve had the whole book to stretch out.)

But Perrotta once again disappointed me with his lack of depth and subtle details that would’ve made everything way more dynamic. His Little Children is like this, too, another tension-filled conceit fumbled through flat characters and an environment just a little too generic to care about. And in both books, the characters are largely defined through badly timed sex with the wrong people.

That last would be a good thing, except it’s both non-explicit and has nothing to do with advancing the main plot. I require at least one kind of cheap thrills from marginal writing.

Sigh. Maybe the movie’s better. (Books, you make me sad when you make me say that.)  

Gritty reboot: flimflam edition

Book: Matchstick Men

Author: Eric Garcia

Published: 2002 (Villard)

Pages: 228

I can sum up this book in five words: gritty reboot of Paper Moon. That, my friends, makes a very enjoyable read.

Seriously, it’s a little eerie. Both books are about con men who are estranged fathers of young daughters who end up coming with them and show precocious knacks for helping with jobs. Even a couple of the cons are the same, most notably the one where the con man (or girl) goes to pay for something cheap with a twenty-dollar bill. The clerk gives back $19.50 or whatever in change, but just before the con man (or girl) gets out the door, they say, “Oh hey look, I do have the exact amount,” and give the clerk that in exchange for the twenty-dollar bill. If they keep the clerk chatting or flirting hard enough, the con nets the $19.50 in change the clerk doesn’t think to ask back.

It works stupidly well in both books.

I like both of the girls, too. They’re written as bright stubborn things who use their wills to get what they want done in matter-of-fact ways that betray fierce loyalties to their dads as the first grownups who’ve shown them any kind of respect.

The biggest differences between these books are the settings, the group dynamics, and how that affects the outcomes. In Matchstick Men, Roy has a partner he works with long before his daughter comes into the picture. This is important to the natural progression of the twist ending that, by the end of everything, seems inevitable.

I can’t get over how smooth that twist is. It’s the best I’ve read in many a book. No, I’m not going to tell you what it is. Go read. Or watch the movie. This is one time I’m comfortable with recommending both adaptations equally.

Same for Paper Moon, actually. So…bumping around through the Depression stealing cotton, or twitching around a modern city processing art forgeries? Colorful Southern expressions or flinty Yankee curses? Ryan O’Neil or Nicholas Cage? Both. ALL.