For those who don’t know, Jack Handey is a humor writer most famous for his “Deep Thoughts” segments on Saturday Night Live, where he’d read out a short, absurd little humor piece over rolling nature footage. The segment was frequently hysterical, and a personal favorite of mine.
I’ve been meaning to read Handey’s novel, The Stench of Honolulu, for a long time. I thought I knew what to expect.
The narrator of the novel is a would-be adventurer invited to go on a trip to Hawaii with his best friend, Don. The narrator doesn’t want to go, but is talked into it. Once there, they are informed of the legendary Golden Monkey treasure and acquire a map showing it’s location. They set out to retrieve the treasure, encountering many obstacles along the way.
The plot of the book is quite minimal for a reason. Handey’s true purpose here isn’t to tell a story or to craft memorable characters. He just wants to fire stupid jokes at you, at a frantic pace, in the hopes that you’ll eventually succumb. Frankly, I found it exhausting. The narrator is a one-note character, and that note is “the biggest idiot in the world.”
The problem is that there is no room to breathe in between the jokes. Practically every sentence is a joke, and they’re all playing on the same theme: the narrator is a lunatic and a selfish asshole who misinterprets everything said to him in the silliest, least plausible manner possible.
The Stench of Honolulu has some impressive blurbs from writers and comedians I really respect, but I have no idea what book they were reading. I found myself completely loathing this novel and it’s ridiculous protagonist.
