»Adverbs
Daniel Handler's 2006 novel Adverbs presents several disjoint episodes in a rambling narrative about love.
Love, he proposes, is in the adverbs, not the nouns: barely, briefly, arguably his characters fall in and out of each other's lives, in and out of "different types of love". The writing is crisp at times, but the rambunctious nature of the plot and the too-similarly-named characters present a more modern view of the world than I enjoy. Handler drops seemingly-familiar names in each story, suggesting that they appear previously or subsequently; one or two times he breaks through the wall and states explicitly that the character is non-recurring, or should be familiar to the reader. I found myself spending an uncomfortable amount of time asking, "Is this the same Tomas from clearly? The same Andrea from immediately?
The motivation for this book might be in the physical nature of love: thus, adverbs; Handler brings us close to several physical encounters, but does not dwell on them. His characters tend to the sad and unfulfilled, even when in love — or in a relationship, at least — wanting more, wanting something else. Brief fantasies creep into each story, demonstrating that love is also about what isn't there and what cannot possibly be: fulfillment, redemption, magic, satisfaction.
His characters also spend a lot of time drinking cocktails with fabulous names, including the Suffering Bastard, a Hong Kong Cobbler, and ad hoc creations such as a "mouthful of champagne followed by a sip of chianti". I first had the Suffering Bastard at a particular bar in San Francisco, a bar which in fact makes an appearance towards the end of the novel. The famously stylish and moody bartender there recently left, I hear, in a fit of pique about infused liquors (she made her own, and they are delicious and quirky).
