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Executive Times |
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2008 Book Reviews |
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Last
Night at the Lobster by Stewart O’Nan |
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Rating: |
*** |
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(Recommended) |
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Click
on title or picture to buy from amazon.com |
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Working I
didn’t expect to find much to like in Stewart O’Nan’s novel, Last
Night at the Lobster. What, I thought, would cause me to have any
interest or empathy with a novel about a Red Lobster restaurant’s last night
before it closed down. Since I enjoyed earlier books from O’Nan, I gave him
the benefit of the doubt. Besides, it’s a pretty short novel. To my surprise,
not only did I enjoy Last Night at the Lobster, I found that I had much in
common with the protagonist, Manny DeLeon, the manager. Manny is a good
corporate citizen, who does what’s expected of him, and works as hard as he
can to satisfy customers. This novel captures much about what it means to do
any kind of work well. It also reveals how managers balance their own needs
and their lives with the challenges of employees with issues. Here’s an
excerpt, from the beginning of the chapter titled, “Which
Nobody Can Deny,” pp. 30-32: They come in pairs and
threesomes and the rare foursome, mostly wives and young mothers this time
of day, escapees from the mall. They come from West Hartford and Farmington
and Simsbury and other suburbs Manny's only driven through summers on his
way to Barkhamsted Reservoir, and driven carefully, wary of gung-ho cops.
Their SUVs chew through the snow and plug the parking spots, for one day
justifying their pricey four-wheel drive. They track in clumps of snow,
pausing to stomp and read the specials on the chalkboard, then follow Kendra
to their booths, sliding in, dumping bags and gloves and jackets, relieved to
sit down and gather themselves and compare their loot. They warm their hands
over the single cupped tea light, ignoring Manny as he cruises through. They
want their waitress. They want their lunches so they can get back out there
and get their shopping done. In the corner, Mr. Kashynski
hunches over the splayed-out sports section with his coffee, occasionally
picking at his tilapia, his plate pushed to the side. Roz sometimes bitches
that he's hogging one of her four-tops, but on slow days she's grateful to
have him. Plus he doesn't run her the way the shoppers do, asking for waters
all around and more biscuits for the kids, sending her to check with Ty to
see if the scallops are frozen or if there's any clam juice in the seafood
stuffing. Manny drops by to say hey, and
Mr. K. taps an article with a liver-spotted hand. "We almost lost to
Weaver. Weaver! I don't know what's going on over there anymore." "It's early," Manny
says, because he's heard Coach go off like this before. It's the start of the
season, and though New Britain's gone through three other coaches since he
retired (forced out, rumor was, over a disagreement with someone on the
school board), he still gets excited this time of year. "We're still
undefeated, right?" "We haven't faced anyone
yet, and we've got less than a month to get ready for Southington." "I hear they're
good," Manny sympathizes, though he's only heard it from Mr. K. himself,
and can't remember the details. Like any longtime acquaintances, there's a
comfortable slackness to their conversations. Manny can listen to him and
scan the room for trouble at the same time, like a cop writing someone a
ticket. The foyer's getting busy, with Kendra trying to greet and seat at
the same time. "What's this I hear about
you guys closing down? That right?" Officially Manny can't answer
him, but his pause is a tip-off. "Where'd you hear that?" "Around." "Not from anyone around
here." Meaning Roz. "It's not a big secret, is it?" Manny plucks the rubber band
and rubs his wrist, stands with hands on hips. "Damn," Mr. K. says.
"I was hoping it wasn't true. When?" "Tomorrow." "Jeez, I wish you'da told
me. I've got a ton of coupons just sitting around at home." "You like Italian
food?" He shrugs. "They should be good at
the Olive Garden. That's where they're sending us." "The one in Bristol?" "Starting Monday. Come on
by, we'll take care of you." Because Manny and the survivors, being new,
are scheduled for lunch all week. He hadn't considered it a good thing until
now. "I might do that,"
Mr. K. says. "Do," Manny says, and
nods to seal the deal, then excuses himself to help Kendra. Stewart’s
writing, as illustrated in the excerpt, makes everything at the Lobster come alive.
Last
Night at the Lobster is a finely written novel with the added bonus of
revealing much about working life. Steve
Hopkins, January 22, 2008 |
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Go to Executive Times Archives |
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The recommendation rating for
this book appeared in the February 2008 issue of Executive Times URL for this review: http://www.hopkinsandcompany.com/Books/Last Night at the Lobster.htm For Reprint Permission,
Contact: Hopkins & Company, LLC • E-mail: books@hopkinsandcompany.com |
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