Carmen's Reviews > Possible Side Effects

RE-READ 03/09/2014

I think my reaction to Augusten Burroughs's short stories is based on my mood.

If I am in an exceptionally great mood - happy, well-fed, just had a great conversation or meal with a friend - I think his stories are hilarious. I laugh out loud and grin. "Oh, Augusten," I think, shaking my head in amazement. "You're so funny!"

But if it's any other time - then I see Augusten Burroughs as a man who has suffered through a lot of pain. And I think his stories are a reflection of that.

The truth is a mixture of both.

Burroughs is a wonderful writer. He has an uncanny way of guiding you through a story so that you end up just where he wants you to be. Sometimes that's not at all the place you thought you'd end up when the story started out.

To reiterate: Burroughs had the childhood from hell. (Read a review of RUNNING WITH SCISSORS). And I believe that this childhood turned him into a selfish, very damaged person who is only able to see other people are selfish and damaged. This makes him mean. And of course, it's funny. It's very funny to read someone make mean, truthful observations about life - things that you yourself would never think or say...but you can't exactly fault his reasoning either.

But the reason I find this less than enjoyable most of the time is because it makes me sad that he thinks humans are so...well, not exactly evil, but only out for themselves - selfish and ruthless in equal parts.

When I finish a book by him, I can shake off this gloomy worldview and return to my normal, cheerful self. But I know that he can't.

Some of these stories are about his childhood, some are about his job at the ad agency, some are about being a writer, some are about dogs. There's at least 3 dog stories in this book. Some are about his long alcoholic period.

The best story in the book, by far, is KITTY, KITTY about a time when a severely alcoholic Burroughs buys a Wheaton terrier from a puppy mill pet store. He names it KittyKitty. His descriptions of the idiot dog and how it acted were truly hilarious. I laughed so hard tears came to my eyes. Someone heard me laughing como una loca (like a madwoman) and asked me what was so funny. So I handed her the book and said "Read this story." She did, and when she brought the book back, she said, "That was so sad." What? That wasn't the reaction I had - or the reaction I expected her to have. But she was looking at it from a different perspective - Burroughs is a drunk in this story who's life is falling apart. He's in no position to care for a dog - and at the end of the story, (view spoiler)[ he gives up the dog for adoption because he knows he's not doing right by the animal (hide spoiler)] Same story, but we had totally different reactions.

You could interpret the whole book this way. You could just choose to focus on the funny part of a story - the part of the story that makes you laugh because Burroughs is hilarious and he wants you to laugh. Or, you could focus on this constant dark undertone that's in every single thing he writes. I'M DAMAGED!, he screams. Pain bleeds from the pages and it really does make your heart hurt when it all sinks in.

SAMPLE: (from Kitty, Kitty) I named him KittyKitty. Because he looked like a kitty. But twice the size. And he was so gentle and sweet that for the first two weeks I thought he might be mildly retarded. His kind brown eyes were always half-closed and he licked my hand, even after I pulled it away. His little tongue just continued lick, lick, licking the air. It was endearing, but also a little pathetic. Yet I knew I'd made a good purchase because he was almost no trouble at all, like a potted cactus. He made less noise than my answering machine, and housebreaking was easy because my floor was already covered with magazines and foreign newspapers, which I couldn't read and only bought because I was pretentious.

But by the third week KittyKitty became alarmingly energized, as if awakened from a long, deep hibernation.

When he wasn't barking at the exact frequency that causes windows to shake, he was leaping from the sofa to the floor to the chair and then running full speed down the hall to the front door, sliding into it and knocking the jackets hung on it to the floor.