The banal and strange events in ordinary lives, told with simplicity, subtlety and dry humour.

This is a wonderful book, written with a light touch, beautifully sketched characters and funny anecdotes. On the one hand there is so much in it, but on the other hand the plot barely troubles you at all. As someone at book group said 'it's just one thing happening after another', but it's so compelling and so well described that it draws you in irretrievably. ( )

Tom Drury’s dry, obliquely funny style of writing perfectly captures a certain tone of the mid-west. His characters are completely unique and yet recognizable types. And although they do many things, it is usually through what they say that we know them. Dan Norman, the taciturn Sheriff of Grouse County, loves Louise Darling, the estranged wife of Tiny Darling, a petty thief and electrical jinx. Louise, who works as a photographer’s assistant to old Perry Kleeborg, has put aside her rebellious youth and Tiny with it and is prepared for a bit of the happiness she deserves, even if she has to prompt Dan out of his respectful silence and into action. Through their relations and friends and passers-through, we come to not exactly know Grouse County, but at least to feel comfortable with it. It’s a bit like Lake Wobegon, but without the twee. More than anything, Drury’s people seem real, full of hope, but subject to immense sadness. Some wander endlessly, like Tiny, looking for where they fit, while others, like Louise, grow into themselves, or, like Dan, have their direction and motivation thrust upon them.

Perhaps due to the lengthy gestation of the book — much of it appeared over a number of years in numerous short stories in The New Yorker — the three sections of the novel have a somewhat different feel. The first third of the book best displays Drury’s ironic style. In the latter sections he seems more concerned with pitiable developments in the lives of Louise and Dan, which changes the emotional tone of the book. In a sense, it becomes more of a typical novel as it develops. However, flashes of Drury’s dry wit surface even through Louise’s sadness.

Well worth reading and, for me at least, tracking down whatever else Drury has written. Recommended. ( )

My first book by Drury - love his style. Really great writing, believable and well developed characters. I couldn't put this down. He captures the joy, sadness and absurdity in every day life. I laughed out loud many times, cried hard once and didn't want the story to end. Can't wait to read more. ( )

I received a copy of The End of Vandalism through a Goodreads Giveaway.

Sometimes when I read an author's first novel, I find myself noticing the author's effort--sometimes a first novel feels labored, and sometimes it just doesn't work. Barely a quarter of the way through The End of Vandalism, though, I realized that I trusted this author. I wasn't distracted by the attempt to craft the novel, I was just reading and enjoying it. This is not an ordinary first novel.

I enjoyed the map at the front and the list of characters at the back, and actually found myself referring to them frequently for at least the first half of the book.

Often when I read a book that reviewers describe as "funny," I see what they're talking about, but I'm not actually all that amused. Reading this book, though, I really did spontaneously laugh out loud at certain passages. I keep going back to the description of Marie Person ("woman in pickup"), on pages 84-85 of my copy.

The driver of the truck was a sunburned, overweight woman named Marie Person. She was in her sixties and drove leaning forward, forearms curved to the wheel, shoulders gently rolling in a red-and-white-checked shirt. Marie was one of those eccentrics who travel the lonely highways of monotonous states and almost seem to have been hired by the tourism department to enliven the traveler's experience. These people have certain things in common. Often they hold a patent, or have applied for one but are being blocked by lawyers, or have some other reason to correspond frequently with Washington, D.C. Sometimes the stamped and addressed letters ride beside them, fanned out on the car seat, which is usually a bench and not a bucket. They travel at midday or late at night. They cross desolate stretches for vague and shifting reasons that often have to do with animals. They need a vaccine for Skip the pony or special food for Rufus the cat to get his urine flowing again. They are going to look at a calf in Elko named Dream Weaver or Son of Helen's Song. They know everyone in the low-roofed diners along the way, but no one seems to know them. This they account for by giving the details of some unpopular stand they have taken that made everyone furious but was after all the right thing to do. Their surnames are not traceable to other surnames you have heard.

Much of the book is made up of funny little everyday happenings and amusing situations, but then it takes a more somber turn. This is when Drury really impresses me, sure-handedly taking the characters he's been showing in a folksy and sometimes comical light and putting them through a crisis.

Thoroughly recommended. ( )