James Kirkwood (1) (1924–1989)

Where to go, what to say? I had never heard of this until this Christmas when I looked for a Christmas book. And what a book!

Everything goes wrong - Jimmy is fired, his girl leaves him, he gets robbed, and P.S. his cat dies.

At least he ties up the burglar. And then things get REALLY strange!

I liked the feel of 1972, the anti-establishment attitude. I got a little tired of the give and take and talk between the burglar and Jimmy at times, but I kept reading.

It ended as it should. I didn't love it, but I liked it. Happy New Year!!… (mais)

I don't believe it. I don't, I don't believe it.

Whatever you might expect before you open this book, that's not what it is.
Jimmy Zoole is thirty-eight (thirty-two according to the sheet put out by his agent), has been an actor for twenty years, but he still has to be asked what it is he does, which means he has not got it made. He's been out of work for a while, his relationship is going through what may be its fatal rough patch, his apartment has been burgled twice (and the burglar made off with more than replaceable material valuables), he is struggling to cope with the sudden death of his best friend, and he's just received notice of eviction. Oh, and his beloved cat isn't feeling too well. Add 'em up, Bobby! Add 'em up!

You're in the presence of one of the most extraordinary pieces of literature ever penned, and here's why. First of all, every page, every piece of dialogue is a tiny universe of hilarity. The language is not as dated as you might think, and the kind of humour ensuing from the absurdity of the human condition and the comedic potential of the series of unfortunate events that pile upon the unassuming Jimmy are always relevant. Few writers manage to blend comedy of practically slapstick dimensions with the all-too-serious reflection on one's misspent years and fear of the future without sounding pathetic or cliched.

Unusual, downright bizarre, at times unbearably suspenseful, and ultimately fiercely heartwarming and hopeful, it first grabs you by the collar and shakes you furiously until you're about to vomit, and then it pats your back reassuringly, and subtly changes your life for the better. This isn't a book you're likely to forget very soon.… (mais)

When it rains it pours. But it has probably never poured on you quite as much as it is pouring on Jimmy Zoole in James Kirkwood's novel P.S. Your Cat Is Dead. Jimmy's best friend died completely unexpectedly a couple of months prior to the opening of the book. Then in the space of a few hours, he loses the acting job he has lined up, his girlfriend dumps him for another guy, he gets another notice that he needs to move out of his rickety apartment building as it's being sold, he discovers a robber in his apartment for the third time in a few months, and, oh yeah, the vet called and his cat has died. If you think this couldn't get any more bizarre, you would be wrong. Jimmy beats the robber unconscious (well, the robber hits his head and gets knocked out while being beaten but basically the same thing) and ties him to the kitchen island sink. Once our thief Vito regains consciousness, he and Jimmy start to talk, covering things like the train wreck of Jimmy's life, his rich and possessive aunt, Jimmy's lost manuscript that Vito stole during the previous burglary, Vito's marriage and child and his affair with a well known actor Jimmy knew, Vito's tales of hustling, and more. It is the strangest New Year's Eve ever.

There isn't much action in the plot as it is dominated by Jimmy and Vito's discussions although there are a few interruptions to the talking and pot smoking pot when Jimmy's ex-girlfriend arrives with her new boyfriend to collect her things thinking Jimmy's out for the night and when the fellow actor Jimmy calls arrives with friends dressed up in all their campy glory primed for a very strange, BDSM kind of night indeed. These absurd interruptions to the main (non)action don't make the novel more appealing though. Jimmy swings from even tempered to angry to resigned in arcs that clearly belong on the stage. And the book as a whole feels more like a script than a novel. It desperately needs the dynamism of actors to bring it to life in a way that it doesn't show on the page. It is therefore not surprising to learn that this was adapted from the original script rather than written first. It comes across as a dated and rather tedious, long therapy session, which is saying something when much of the action takes place with a half naked man tied up and sprawled across a sink. The homoeroticism is clearly on display but I somehow missed the eccentric and funny bits that others apparently find in it. I kept expecting to see "Exit stage left" in the text and while that never appeared overtly, it was there in the action often. I have to believe that this lost a lot in the translation from stage to page but it just wasn't a very enjoyable reading experience.… (mais)