Ask the Dust

This is a great California novel. It is also a fine mainstream novel with noir overtones. I rank it with the best work of, e.g., Nathanael West, but since it is different in kind I would not attempt to judge it against the work of Chandler, Ellroy, Cain, et al., whose work is monumental in a different way. Ask the Dust is a book in the Arturo Bandini series. Bandini, a close stand-in for Fante himself, is a depression-era writer who has come to L.A. to do his work and find his fortune. He lives in the Bunker Hill neighborhood in a downscale residential hotel. Bandini meets a local waitress, Camilla Lopez, and falls for her. Hard. Unfortunately, Camilla loves another man, who does not reciprocate her love and Arturo is stalked/loved by a Jewish woman from Long Beach whose affections he does not reciprocate. Thus we have two love triangles and a relationship between the principals that is largely doomed from the get-go. The plot is simple: boy meets girl; boy loses girl; boy temporarily gets girl; boy loses girl and seeks her (SPOILER) in the dust and grit of the Mojave desert. Beyond the basic plot, everything is voice and texture. Arturo’s story is one of striving, of desperation, of hunger, of momentary triumph, of loneliness, of singular opportunity and of recalcitrant reality, writ large. The story charts his feelings, his emotions, his angst, his high points and his low. What is it like, precisely, to be a depression-era writer trying to make it in L.A.? It is like this. What is it like to love someone on a nearly epic level, knowing that the relationship is going nowhere fast and is likely to end up in equally epic-level heartache? It is like this. Fante’s narrative voice is pitch-perfect and painful in its spare lyricism. This is the kind of writing for which the novel was created: to explore middle-class experience with the fervor and urgency previously reserved for Sophoclean and Shakespearean tragedy. It is a ‘writerly’ book, but readers should not be put off by that, fearing some hothouse, over-aestheticized bit of craft. The book drips with authenticity and explores the human heart in both neatly-understated and very, very powerful ways. This is the real deal. If you haven’t yet discovered John Fante, now’s your chance. (And read his personal story after you’ve read the novel. Prepare to be moved and a little shaken.)

Just finished. It has a powerful ending; a great; haunting ending that leaves a sickness and a longing and a reminder about the dark side of life. Being a Bukowski fan, I had been meaning to read this, and am glad that I did. It wasn't so much like Bukowski - but i see where Bukowski got a lot of his sparseness and the ways in which he structured his sentences. I think Bukowski was much funnier and had better characters and some brilliant one lines and new ways of saying things - however - this book had a strong dark message that leaves one very aware of life at the end; powerful. It reminded me of the movie Vertigo (but not as clever), or of an old film noir; something with Humphrey Bogart, but more raw and real. Of course there's also Hemingway similarities, short sparse lines and a certain type of character - however, less math and repetition and beautiful scenes that go on for pages, although some of Fante's imagery is great and its all very real for the kind of story that it is - as a writer myself - when it comes to the actual style of the writing - it's very plain and not at all brilliant or unique. Many of his chapter openings hit hard but some of the chapters fall short, imo. There are a few great lines worth highlighting, but not enough - however - on the positive side - the story itself is very well executed, the characters are great, everything flows very smoothly, its short and easy to read and leaves one with a wide array of interesting feelings and thoughts, and for a man who's been through similar situations - its worth the read. However - I will say this - as a writer myself - I saw somebody saying that Arturo Bandini is warm, and gentle - I didn't take him like that, although he kind of appears that way - yet he's certainly more mean than he even comes off toward Camilla if you pick up on more of the subtleties - bitter for certain, long before he's blessed with her ending. The character really embellishes and builds himself up and sets himself apart from the other in a certain way, but I guess that's his macho character, in certain ways that I think draw from the story - he doesn't show his more lowly or vulnerable side as good as I think he should have - but that's ok - there is still an honesty in how he identifies with his emotions, being used and unloved and still giving and traveling on through the broken dreams - but I also think the author has a more deceptive side that only certain other writers would get.

A poor, aspiring young writer moves into a decaying, once-genteel roomimg house in the Bunker Hill section of Los Angeles. Periodically on the verge of starvation, he nevertheless enjoys the warm climate of the city set next to a desert, works on his writing and looks at the stars. The stars tell him not to despair - that he's part of something vibrant and glorious. One fateful day he happens to go into a Mexican restaurant. In a letter to his cousin Fante described what happened as a result of that casual decision. He fell in love with a girl "who loved someone else, who in turn despised her. Strange story of a beautiful Mexican girl who somehow didn't fit into modern life...." The protagonist, Arturo Bandini, becomes obsessed with Camilla; and as he does so he goes through various stages of love: from shallow attraction to infatuation to compassionate love. At the beginning of the book he's completely self-centered. By the end of the book his love for the girl is almost wholly unselfish. This is especially moving, since he realizes after awhile that he means nothing to her and that she's just been using him all along to try to get close to another man. This bitter realization doesn't prevent him from moving heaven and earth to try to save her, even after she has a nervous breakdown. Mental illness had a much greater stigma in the 1930s than it does now. I think it's safe to say that most young men of that era would have siimply given up and walked away. Instead, Bandini is prepared to devote his life to her. As many reviewers have pointed out, "Ask the Dust" is a great Los Angeles book. In fact, the city itself - its streets, bars, cafes, boardinghouses, parks and skid row - is a major character in the book. The era the book describes is the 1930s, but as someone who lived near there thirty years later, I can attest to the timelessness of the feeling of the city. It's a strange mixture of gritty reality and poignant dreaminess. Fante captures this feeling perfectly. "Ask the Dust" also has one of the most lyrical, and haunting - and saddest - endings ever written. Some reviewers have been put off by the name-calling and ethnic epithets. Of course, Bandini would have been a more admirable character without them. But the writer's first duty is to tell the truth, even when it presents him in an unflattering light. And it's not what the book is about, any more than "Vanity Fair" is solely about Becky Sharp, Thackeray's great anti-heroine. "Ask the Dust," like "Vanity Fair" and "Of Human Bondage,"examines a basic problem of human existence: why do we love the people who don't love us? Put another way, why can't we love the people who do love us? And a larger question: why are some people doomed? A door opens, so that they can escape from the hell they're in. They can't go through it. Why? Ask the dust.

In terms of creating a truly unique story and deeply flawed human characters, Fante is a god. Ask the Dust ranks with J.D. Salinger's Catch in the Rye or John Toole's Confederacy of Dunces as one of those few great works of American fiction that do both. It is the story of young Arturo Bandini fighting to make it as a writer in sunny and deceptive Los Angeles, while mishandling the emotions he feels for the beautiful tan-skinned Camilla Lopez as she's equally in love with an older man that refuses to love her back. Fante describes this tragic struggle in such raw and poetic detail, yet also captures it in true style. Dust is the universal symbol throughout: Temporary, fleeting, and sweeping over us. It is dust that escorts us away and covers over all sins, desolate and somehow redemptive at the same time. Sections of this book are like nothing I've ever read before, beautifully written and deeply contemplative For example, after Camilla has shunned Arturo for her older lover, he writes: "All that was good in me thrilled in my heart at that moment, all that I hoped for in the profound, obscure meaning of my existence. Here was the endlessly mute placidity of nature, indifferent to the great city; here was the desert beneath these streets, around these streets, waiting for the city to die, to cover it with timeless sand once more. There came over me a terrifying sense of understanding about the meaning and the pathetic destiny of men. The desert was always there, a patient white animal, waiting for men to die, for civilizations to flicker and pass into darkness. Then men seemed brave to me, and I was proud to be numbered among them. All the evil of the world seemed not evil at all, but inevitable and good and part of that endless struggle to keep the desert down." It is a treat to read someone writing with such command. Ask the Dust is Fante at his finest and I fully recommend this as an instant favorite.

Despite this being along the lines of the type of novels I typically enjoy, I was unable to get very far into this. This author (at least in this book) insists on using a lot of long, run-on sentences that I found confusing and ultimately boring. It was just too stultifying for me. Dan Fante (John's son) is more to my taste, with a clean, straight-forward style that always keeps the story moving, like Bukowski and SaFranko. John's style, to me, seems almost labyrinthine. I never got more than a hundred pages into this book.

'Ask the Dust' is perhaps my favorite of John Fante's wonderful novels. But then, is there room for more than one 'favorite?' How about 'Brotherhood of the Grape?' or 'The Big Hunger?' and a half dozen or so others... I first read John Fante's books after seeing Charles Bukowski on video claiming Fante as his favorite writer. Bukowski said Fante 'writes like God.' Bukowski himself wasn't bad so I had to see what the fuss was all about with John Fante. Yes, I decided Fante does write like God. Pure genius story telling in the clearest prose you'll ever find. It manages to be conversational and literary both all at once. I suppose that's how God would do it. But seriously, Fante is worth reading and actually rereading, too. It is very good stuff. I have nearly all his books and couldn't give them up. They are pretty nearly perfect.

“Ask The Dust” is a tough gritty coming of age novel set in Los Angeles in the 1930s. It is the third novel, and second published novel authored by John Fante. The protagonist is a young Italian American Arturo Bandini, described as John Fante’s alter ego. The novel is of medium length and is mostly highly readable. There are some very picturesque passages that border on the poetic that I read slowly and often reread to allow the words to sink in. Other passages I found pedestrian, depressing, and frustrating. If asked to compare this author to another I would compare him to Charles Bukowski, particularly “Ham on Rye”. Charles Bukowski openly admired John Fante. While not completely enthralled with either author I find John Fante somewhat more artistic. This novel has a Noir aspect to it. It is about individuals at the lower end of the socioeconomic side of the population. Many of the characters seem to lead sad lives of quiet desperation. While I enjoy these Noir type novels from time to time, I find them depressing and need to take a break from them. As stated above, this is the third completed novel of John Fante. Each novel is a standalone novel. Each novel involves Arturo Bandini as a young aspiring author. I found each novel more interesting than enjoyable. Although not really enthralled with any of them, I suppose my favorite is “Wait Until Spring Bandini”, which is set in Colorado earlier in Bandini’s life. The third novel, first composed, but not published until later is “The Road to Los Angeles”. It is also dark and gritty. As a trilogy it is somewhat inconsistent with the other two novels and was my least favorite. I felt the writing was less mature which is understandable as it is a first effort. If I was going to skip one of these three novels, this would be the one. In summary I am glad to have read this novel. It is a good novel, but dark. There are passages that are quite artistic. There are passages that are crude. It can be read as a standalone novel but is somewhat related to other novels with the same protagonist. Thank you for taking the time to read this review.

I found Ask the Dust through Neil Strauss, who considers it one of his favorite books. I read it in one day, LOVED it and ordered all the others. I read each of these in one day as well. Bandini, the subject of the series, is a wonderful example of someone whose actual life is ruined by the fantasies in his head-every second he spends stuck up there is one he wastes and spoils in real life. He's too caught up and delusional to see that his problems are his fault, that he's vicious because he can't live up to the impossible expectations they create, and that he could have everything he wants if he calmed down and lived in reality for a second. But it works in the book because Fante is a beautiful writer and he portrays this neurosis-which also appears to be his own-so well. This is the series in order by my favorites: Ask the Dusk, Dreams from Bunker Hill, Wait Until Spring, Bandini and The Road to Los Angeles. (DO NOT watch the movie version of Ask to Dust, it is embarrassingly bad.) Of historical note: He tells a side of Los Angeles that most people don't know existed, a side that for some inexcusable reason has been completely forgotten. Somehow I ended up reading it while I was in Los Angeles on business, staying at the LA Athletic Club which is on Olive St where the book takes place and was open during the time the book is set. (In fact, in one of the opening paragraphs the main character walks right by the club.) Side recommendation: Fante's writing reminds me a lot of John Kennedy Toole's Neon Bible.