At 40, living alone in the family home, Hugo Whittier, an
irresistible, irrepressible, uproariously droll curmudgeon, wants
nothing more than to die --- except maybe to be left alone. As he
sits in his room, he muses, he philosophizes and he complains
constantly. Very little pleases him and he can barely tolerate
interaction with others of his species.

Hugo does, however, love smoking and cooking --- and writing,
although he would vehemently deny it. He tosses out a recipe here
and there, but I'm not at all sure I would dare use any of them. In
the first instance, for example, he left out one ingredient. (It
showed up a chapter or two later.)

THE EPICURE'S LAMENT is set down in hilarious, and sometimes
poignant, journal entries. Hugo writes volumes, filling three
notebooks in the telling of his story and starting a fourth. In the
pages, he rails against his dead mother with hostile invectives,
remembers his dad lovingly and begrudgingly learns some good about
humankind.

Hugo did not have a happy childhood, and his adult years aren't
shaping up much better. Now, Hugo's life is coming to an end due to
a rare affliction called Buerger's disease --- unless he makes some
drastic changes in his lifestyle. Not surprisingly, he is unwilling
to alter even one thing about his life. Quite the contrary; he
looks forward to his imminent end. Residing in the home where he
grew up, he has happily ensconced himself in the tower bedroom
awaiting that end.

Unfortunately for him, his brother's marriage hits the skids and
Dennis, a couple of years Hugo's senior, pulls up one day with a
U-Haul and unloads his few salvaged possessions. As one would
suspect, this doesn't sit well with Hugo, so he focuses on patching
up Dennis's marriage --- in between trying to seduce the cashier at
the corner store or his sister-in-law's au pair. To make matters
even worse, Hugo's wife, who left him ten years earlier, returns
with "their" (he denies that, too) child in tow and moves in
alongside the two brothers. This only heightens Hugo's desire to
hasten his impending death.

What seems like a predictable story most certainly is not. Several
excellent surprises, all discovered through Hugo's caustically
witty diaries, await the lucky reader. Ms. Christensen does an
incredible job of writing from a man's perspective, especially that
of a hermitic, solitude-loving, middle-aged man who is pretty much
obsessed with sex and cigarettes. The outrageous voice she has
given Hugo resonates with irritation yet exudes a sense of
unappreciated intelligence. Petulance radiates from his every
conversation. The man has an undeniable gift with words; he simply
chooses to use mostly the gloomy and cynical ones. Hugo is destined
to become a classic character. He is not one to be missed.