In his first novel, Maddox, a former Spy
magazine editor, concocts a hilariously off-the-wall satire of the memoir. The book tells the story of a young man, coincidentally named Bruno Maddox, who's taken it upon himself to recount the life story of an unnamed woman who was born on January 1, 1900. The brilliantly funny spoof begins as a classic chronicle of a long life, flush with the standard 20th-century memoir elements of war-torn England, 1920s Paris and suburban 1950s America. Bruno succeeds in presenting a merry little memoir (though he does include a few telling details that indicate that he is fabricating much of the woman's life): his unnamed protagonist discovers that she's prettier and more articulate than the other girls in her English village, moves to Paris (where she snorts cocaine with Henry Miller) and becomes a tea server at a military research facility during WWII. At this point, though, Bruno, who's crazily racing to finish the book, abruptly changes format and flashes forward to the end of her life. Now she's a decrepit old woman living in New York's Chinatown, composing a diary full of anecdotes of her glorious past—and her caretaker is none other than a lovesick, aspiring writer named Bruno Maddox. Maddox's writing is purposely uppity, but the kitschy, honest overtones communicate a very witty take on love and life. (Apr.)
