If I feel guilty for not reviewing a book I've read, does that mean Epinions has too much influence over my life? I did a quick calculation, and of the last ten books I've read, I've reviewed seven of them for this site. The ones that didn't make the cut were Glamorama by Bret Easton Ellis, The Rules II, and the Fall 2000 Pottery Barn Catalog. (And yes, you really should read American Psycho, The Rules, and the Spring 2000 Pottery Barn Catalog if you want to fully understand the sequels.) This book almost didn't make the cut either, because I'm the laziest person you will never meet. But something, perhaps the Protestant Ethic or the spirit of capitalism, but more likely the thrill of seeing my name among all the skin creams, lip glosses, dustbusters, and Birthing Methods of the Just Ins, is pulling me out of my lethargy.

Slab Rat is the first novel of Ted Heller, the son of novelist Joseph Heller (Catch-22). Heller fils has written for The New Yorker, Vanity Fair, Details, and Spy, among others. This is his satirical look at the slimy office politics at a large publishing empire modeled after Conde Nast.

The novel is told from the vantage point of Zachary Post, an assistant editor at the trendy magazine It. (Other titles in the empire include She, He, Here, Boy.) Zachary has created an impressive fake pedigree he hopes will ingratiate him with everyone on the It masthead: graduate of Colgate, Berkeley, and the University of Liverpool, son of a famous architect and a Palm Beach socialite. In reality he went to Hofstra, his father sells pool and patio supplies, and his mother lives in a one bedroom in Queens with a giant ad for a toaster on the side of her building.

Zachary manages to get his book reviews published here and there, but his feature articles are often buried or tabled by the backstabbing, conniving senior editors. His brief career has plateaued. Enter Mark Larkin, a bowtie wearing, Teddy Roosevelt-resembling, first class toady who panders to all the right people. Mark quickly starts to climb the It ladder, filling the offices vacated by various editors being promoted or dying of cancer, irritating the hell out of Zack, and eventually becoming his boss. Zack and his slacker coworker Willie plot to depose Mark by whatever means necessary.

Interwoven with the Mark Larkin plot are Zack's romantic and sexual escapades with three fellow employees: a feisty, voluptuous, red haired vixen; a fresh out of college, sweet, untainted intern; and the cool, irresistibly British Leslie Usher-Soames, whose loglike quietude in the sack is more than made up for by the desirability of dating a woman with a hyphenated name and an obscure family connection to Winston Churchill.

Slab Rat has a few sparkling, funny moments, like the opening scene where an envelope is being passed to collect office donations for a departing colleague. Her enormously expensive going away gift is a gold nameplate from Tiffany's. As the envelope passes, Zack and Willie each take out a couple tens to treat themselves to lunch. And Heller skewers the catchphrases that magazines like this use over and over. For It, it's young Turks, loue, moué, louche, and several other funny ones that I'd be able to look up if I hadn't already returned this book to the library. I had to laugh, since I've been noticing louche in the New Yorker for a good year now. (For the record, it means not reputable or decent.)

As much as I hate to be critical of a first novel, Slab Rat disappoints. At more than 330 pages, it's too long to sustain interest. Though the characters are cleverly and comically sketched, and Zack himself very likeable, there's not enough happening, or happening quickly enough. This is the kind of book that should be 100 pages shorter and much more quickly paced. And although Heller does a credible job of satirizing the high-class sleaze and the fakery that I'm sure do go on behind closed doors and in editorial meetings, for me there wasn't nearly enough magazine dish. I want the poop, the skinny, the lowdown, the dirt. Basically, I want the non-fiction version.







Recommended: No