Lunatics and Secrets

New Works by Denton and Mitchell

Lunatics

by Bradley Denton

St. Martin’s Press, $23.95 hard

Lunatics is a charming
bit of Magic Realism set in Austin, in 1993 to be exact. Denton has called it
his first adult novel, “not in the sense of adult bookstore, but adult in the
sense that I think my first three books were rooted in childhood” (“Down the
Dark Highway,” The Austin Chronicle, Vol. 15, No.6). Yet it is adult in
that it is about sex, and very possibly about everything being about sex. No,
it isn’t adult-bookstore quality sex, and nowhere is it steamy enough that
anyone needs to be afraid to read it in a public place.

At first the local references hit with dull clunks. Denton touches many of the
home bases: Avenue B Grocery, Threadgill’s, Mount Bonnell, and so forth, and it
is only in the last third of the novel that there seems to be any particular
reason that any of this is happening here, except I suppose that a guy who
strips naked every time the moon is full and waits in his “perky” (i.e. erect)
state for his date with a moon goddess — well, that is an Austin sort of
thing, isn’t it? This is Jack, and he is naked to begin with.

Jack is naked and he is arrested by the APD, who are perfectly accustomed to
arresting naked guys but who have a lot of difficulty dealing with the perky
part — I mean mentally. From jail Jack calls three women he has lived with or
had major affairs with who all are still very concerned about him and with whom
he still has warm friendships. Did I mention this is a fantasy novel?

As it becomes clear that Jack is going to be afflicted with his naked lunacy
on a monthly basis, the women and their current consorts take it upon
themselves to try to protect Jack at these times. This makes a rather odd lot,
especially once the three couples start playing musical beds. Speaking as a
person who for the first three seasons thought Married With Children was a
documentary, I am not sure whether this is to be taken as a report of the state
of heterosexuality in Austin in the Nineties or of the angst-ridden sexuality
of the notch generation between the Boomers and X-ers or exactly what, but it
would be hard to imagine bed-hopping that would be any less joyous or more
desperate.

The men are all cardboard, and not the sort to go skinny-dipping with, as they
are extremely nervous about other nude men, perky or not. This leaves out
Hippie Hollow or even an ordinary orgy so far as possibilities for more local
color go. These guys really aren’t Jack’s friends. They don’t seem to have any
friends. They are just dragged into things by whichever woman they are screwing
at the moment, as if they were some insect species in which the male atrophies
into little more than a sperm reservoir more-or-less permanently attached to
the female. If they have no feelings or motivations at least they have types:
aging nerd, hot young stud — probably dumb, but possibly just young — paunchy
bodybuilder. The women, on the other hand, have some depth of character, but it
is, unfortunately, all the same character: one is supposed to be smarter, one
prettier, and so forth, but basically they are the same woman. And of course
the couples only really speak to one another when they are angry.

Against this backdrop Jack seems a really nice fellow and the moon goddess
seems one of the most desirable creatures in the universe, but it is a little
hard to make out exactly why Jack is such a great guy or how one can be a
goddess-succubus for aeons without gaining some small insight into the human
condition.

None of this is to deny that this is a really cute novel and as pleasant a
pastime as any, but only that there isn’t much below the surface. Denton has a
small quiver of mots, but he sends them home with startling accuracy.
And of course, foul-mouthed children are always amusing to people who don’t
have to live with them. This is just the thing for an overseas flight or a
lonely, moony summer night.

This article appears in July 5 • 1996 and July 5 • 1996 (Cover).