Wakefield

Rating:
Summary: STELLAR READING OF THIS SATIRE
Review: "Get a life!" That's an oft used phrase, and precisely what the Devil orders motivational speaker Wakefield to do. Actually, Wakefield has no choice - this isn't an order, it's an ultimatum.

"Time's up," says Satan, so find yourself a real life or sign off on living.

Little choice here, so Wakefield goes in an often hilarious trek across the country trying to make contact with who he's supposed to be and where he's supposed to be. He has a year in which to accomplish this (remember what happens to those who make bargains with the devil).

Along the way he runs into every kind of outre character, the strangest phenomenons in our contemporary society, and a few women. Of course, Wakefield pontificates along the way.

Thanks to the experienced voice and understanding of Jeff Woodman what could have been a farcical reading is instead 10 hours of pleasure. Satire is sometimes difficult to deliver - Woodman's totally in control.

- Gail Cooke

Rating:
Summary: On the Road. Off the Road. With A Codrescu
Review: Anyone who catches Codrescu's social commentary on NPR, for which he is famously and justifiably known, will recognize the voice and extended social satire in this. Novel? Living in the Kingdom of Mordor in a time of foreign policy black magic and evil sorcery, full of dark suits like capes barely concealing insatiable greed and lust, I found Wakefield a sane and sardonic respite from the bleak and interminable bad news on same public radio station that reminds me of the mad and relentless hammering at the end of Codrescu's. Novel? Wakefield is my anti-hero. He doesn't have to work a nine-to-five job, has no problems attracting libidinous women, and drinks whiskey with a Bolshevik cab driver at his neighborhood bar. What more could one ask for?

Rating:
Summary: On the Road. Off the Road. With A Codrescu
Review: Anyone who catches Codrescu's social commentary on NPR, for which he is famously and justifiably known, will recognize the voice and extended social satire in this. Novel? Living in the Kingdom of Mordor in a time of foreign policy black magic and evil sorcery, full of dark suits like capes barely concealing insatiable greed and lust, I found Wakefield a sane and sardonic respite from the bleak and interminable bad news on same public radio station that reminds me of the mad and relentless hammering at the end of Codrescu's. Novel? Wakefield is my anti-hero. He doesn't have to work a nine-to-five job, has no problems attracting libidinous women, and drinks whiskey with a Bolshevik cab driver at his neighborhood bar. What more could one ask for?