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Original Title: A Fan's Notes
ISBN: 0679720766 (ISBN13: 9780679720768)
Edition Language: English
Series: A Fan's Notes #1
Characters: Fred Exley, Bunny Sue Allorgee, Earl Exley, Mrs. Exley, Mr. Blue (A Fan's Notes), Patience Exley, Christopher Plumpton
Setting: New York State(United States) Chicago, Illinois(United States)
Literary Awards: Rosenthal Family Foundation Award (1969), William Faulkner Foundation Award (1968), National Book Award Finalist for Fiction (1969)
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A Fan's Notes (A Fan's Notes #1) Paperback | Pages: 385 pages
Rating: 4.08 | 3805 Users | 420 Reviews

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Title:A Fan's Notes (A Fan's Notes #1)
Author:Frederick Exley
Book Format:Paperback
Book Edition:Anniversary Edition
Pages:Pages: 385 pages
Published:September 1988 by Vintage Contemporaries (first published 1968)
Categories:Fiction. Sports. Novels. Literature

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Fredrick Exley (1929-1992) – Photo of the writer as a vulnerable, sensitive young man. In many ways, much too vulnerable and sensitive for mid-20th century American society, a society where a man’s prime virtue is being tough. A Fan's Notes is the odyssey of one man’s unending heartbreak and retreat into an inner world of fantasy and dreams, a retreat, by his own account and language, punctuated by alcoholism and trips to the madhouse; or, put another way, an autobiographical novel about Fredrick Exley’s longtime failure in the years prior to when he finally staked his claim to fame by writing a memoir about his aching, painful life. First off, let me say bellying up to a bar, drinking, smoking, commiserating, cheering for a sports team while watching a game is not me, which is understatement. I recall walking into a bar when in college and found the whole scene sour and depressing. I haven’t even come close to stepped into a bar once in the past nearly fifty years. I mention since the Fred Exley in this fictional memoir is a bargoer who drinks, smokes, commiserates, and obsessively cheers for a sports team – the New York Giants. For these reasons and others, including much of the way he talks about women, I do not particularly like the main character. However, this being said, A Fan’s Notes is a well-written literary gush, reminding me more of Henry Miller than Charles Bukowski, a compelling, excruciatingly honest personal saga, overflowing with keen insights into human nature and caustic observations on American culture, a book I found, for a number of personal reasons, deeply moving when I first read back in 1988 published as part of the Vintage Contemporaries series. Rereading these past few weeks, I must say I enjoying every well-turned phrase and outrageous, boldfaced, audacious twisting of fact into fiction: author’s self-portrayal as a slovenly lout, alcoholic slob, misogynist pig, lowlife outsider, misfit and complete loser, not to mention misty-eyed dreamer and weaver of fantastic delusions. At the point when Freddie Ex finally pulled his life together enough to begin seriously writing, he probably had more than a few good chuckles and a few shed tears with each draft. The first personal reason I found this novel moving back in 1988 is very personal: at the time I was having a mid-life crisis, working with a spiteful, nasty boss and unpleasant coworkers in what turned out to be, for me, the wrong career. I had to make a serious change and Exley’s novel, especially those parts where he reflected on the insanity of work world USA, served as something of a literary friend through it all, right up until the time when I made a successful switch. The second reason has to do with my friend Craig, a sensitive, vulnerable, highly artistic man who reminded me a great deal of Fred Exley. Actually, very much like Exley, Craig worked in the advertising industry, was fired because of drinking, and after marrying and having a couple kids, divorced and, like Exley, returned to live in the basement of his parent’s house. Turns out, Craig was simply too sensitive to function in the “normal” world. And similar to Exley, he idolized Hemingway and tried writing the Great American Novel but, unfortunately, he was no Exley – his writing, right up to the day he dropped dead of a massive heart attack at age 55, was overly sentimental and downright awful. I relate personal reasons since my guess is Exley’s A Fan’s Notes enjoyed an initial cult following comprised of men (and perhaps women) who, like myself, were either going through a phase of life-transition or those sensitive souls who, for a number of reasons, could never successfully function in conventional society. I also imagine many of these sensitive types, similar to my friend Craig, tried to write first-rate fiction but their efforts fell short. At least they could turn to A Fan’s Notes for some solace. And I wonder how many of these sensitive souls had strong fathers like Fred Exley, when he writes, “Moreover, my father’s shadow was so imposing that I had scarcely ever, until that moment, had an identity of my own. At the same time I had yearned to emulate and become my father. I also yearned for his destruction.”

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Ratings: 4.08 From 3805 Users | 420 Reviews

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Re-reading it now after thinking about it unbiddenly recently and seeing a funky, weird old 60's mass-marketpaperback in a used bookstore in Amherst this weekend. I love those old covers, they're so gauche and semi-psychedelic. I saw one for a 60's edition of "The Critique Of Pure Reason" with hallucinogenic spirals all over the place, with the implicit allure to get in on a really heavy, groovy time, maaan.....But I'm rereading it not for camp but for penance. I read this during a markedly

A stark, accurate glimpse into the depths of insanity, and an everyman's confrontation with mediocrity. A portrayal of a grimy artist (writer), subconsciously if not outrightly obsessed with living up to his father's achievements / stature. Living in his father's shadow and barely measuring up to the shins.This book was at times so shocking in its raw, grotesque portrayal of reality that I felt like putting it down, or, if it were a movie, turning away -- but as with life I could not. It was

This book is about sports like Macbeth is about witches. Which is to say, it's just a vehicle for the real action, which is all internal. A gorgeous, eloquent song to despair and alcoholism and redemption.

Exley is an interesting cult figure whose debut book, this one, is his real legacy. (The other two, PAGES FROM A COLD ISLAND and LAST NOTES FROM HOME are very flawed). A FAN'S NOTES is a very readable coming-of-age novel about hero worship. The difficulty most contemporary readers have is the object of his hero's worship: Frank Gifford. That's right---THE Frank Gifford, Mrs. Kathy Lee. For those of us too young to remember that FG was a gridiron hero---he retired the year I was born---that's a

This is not a book about sports. If you don't know who Frederick Exley is -- and I didn't till I found it among Thomas' books (or was it a recommendation from him...? - well, either way...) -- then don't not read it because you think it's about sports. It has nothing to do with sports, except that that is one of the author's obsessions -- but he could just as well be obsessed about anything else (and he is)... there is very little discussion about sports in it. Frederick Exley, as his friend

Frederick Exley belongs among those champions who after ruining ones life spends years trying to climb out of shit and for this strenuous endeavour is considered to be a valiant and sagacious heroHe was an incorrigible dreamer, romantic visionary. He believed the world couldnt wait to throw its arms around himI was willfully acting in such a way as to alienate myself. But I doubt the validity of this. I had large faiththe faith of youthin the citys capacity to absorb me, hair-do and all; and it

Jonathan Yardley's introduction explains that Frederick Exley had intended to publish A Fan's Notes as a memoir, but was asked to novelize it by Harper & Row, who feared libel actions. We have this amazing book, Yardley writes, a caustic masterpiece by a man who was essentially an alcoholic bum - he never held one job for more than a few months, he spent months or years crashing on other people's "davenports," including his parents' and various alumni of the mental hospital he had received

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