I've Been Pantsed--and I'm Okay With It

I recently read I Just Want My Pants Back by David J. Rosen, and I was pleasantly surprised (which I realize is kind of insulting, but when you pick up enough books on a whim, you’ll understand how nice it is that something doesn’t suck). It’s got some genuinely laugh-out-loud moments, and enough relevance to my own life (I won’t go into how) to strike a chord.

One of those tough-to-categorize books, I’d probably lump it in there as “dude lit” (I think they call it “lad lit” in Britain). While not quite at the same level as Nick Hornby or even Jonathan Tropper, it’s also because the focus is a little different—this isn’t exactly a relationship book with a guy in the lead, but a book about a guy whose life pretty much sucks. It reminded me a lot of a book I read a while ago called The Frog King, another decent book called The Slide by Kyle Beachy, and I thought it was decidedly better than the over-hyped novel Indecision by Benjamin Kunkel (which although that novel started strong and then crapped out, still had an awesome cover).

The main character, Jason, is a loser—and not really a lovable loser. In fact, he’s kind of a dick, and you do wonder why any of his friends tolerate it. But he’s also enough of a winner—at least early on—to get with some girls, so you root for him a little. One of these random hook-ups (and, by the way: for a book written in 2007, casual sex is fine, but when the characters don’t wrap it up, I shudder to think of how much Chlamydia Jason has) turns into something more, only to fizzle once again—absconding with his favorite pair of pants. His life seems to go downhill from there.

Amazingly, the story is enjoyable, probably because David Rosen has a very comfortable writing style. He’s got some funny turns of phrase, and, for the most part, does an admirable job with the plot-lines he establishes.

The biggest flaw I saw was that it seems clear he didn’t know what kind of book he was writing—something I feel might be prevalent in this indeterminate genre. In other words, if this was “chick lit,” in the end, things would be resolved, the heroine would be redeemed, and awesomeness would abound. Here, although it does end on a high note, there’s so much left open, with the future laid out in front of him.

It’s almost as if Rosen (as with so many of these male authors) think that guys don’t want to read happy endings—that we’d think they’re too sappy. The thing is, the kind of guy who wants to read about another guy’s troubles with the ladies is a little bit sappy! We want the good guy to win, because we’ve seen him take his licks. We want to know that the reward for, as Calvin’s dad would say, “building character” is getting the girl and finding that great job. We don’t need extreme bliss: sex and money will do us just fine.

But that’s my rant, and I’m sticking to it.

I Just Want My Pants Back isn’t a great novel, but it’s a very strong debut from a writer whose next book I will certainly keep my eye out for.