In 2005, as readers may remember, Democratic senator Barbara Boxer published a novel, A Time to Run. The book was a flop, largely owing to its confusing plot, sick-makingly sentimental prose, and the obviously self-serving tone of the whole story. The story’s protagonist, Ellen Fischer, is an idealistic and principled liberal who reluctantly runs for office and risks her career to stand up to the extreme right-wingers dominating Washington. We can’t imagine who Ellen Fischer might have been based on. (The novel’s failure didn’t stop Sen. Boxer from following it up with another, Blind Trust, four years later. We confess we didn’t read the second one.)
It occurs to The Scrapbook that this could very well be a genre in need of recognition: spectacularly bad novels whose righteous heroes are rather too obviously based on their famous authors. And if it’s a genre of its own, it must deserve its own literary prize. We propose the creation of the Boxer Prize.
On the shortlist to be this year’s Boxer laureate would surely be Sean Penn, for his debut novel Bob Honey Who Just Do Stuff. This work is the outgrowth of an audiobook Penn made two years ago under the nom de plume “Pappy Pariah.” The protagonist, Bob Honey, doesn’t immediately sound like the actor Sean Penn; he is a “man of many trades—sewage specialist, purveyor of pyrotechnics, contract killer for a mysterious government agency that pays in small bills.” Other facets of the character, however, suggest a kinship with his creator. In one passage, for instance, Bob Honey meets with a drug lord who has just escaped from prison. In another passage, Penn—or, rather, Bob Honey—writes a letter to the president of the United States, cleverly termed “Mr. Landlord,” and the attitude sounds just a tad like a certain crude and outspokenly left-wing movie star:
Bob Honey Who Just Do Stuff, published by Atria Books, will go on sale next week. The price is $24. The cost, in terms of things you could do besides reading it, only you can determine.
