The storyline is unusual enough - In the near future humanity has tired of its miserable life so much that a fanatical government decides to give earth back to nature. While all around Dominick Priest humanity is either commiting suicide or being killed by fanatics, the hero struggles overland toward his home village, not really knowing what awaits him there. On the way there, including during the crossing of the name-giving storm-tossed suspension bridge, he slowly goes mad and becomes the prophet of a new religion that embraces life - perhaps a bit too much...

Before its recent resurrection by Dalkey Archive, D Keith Mano's Take Five had enjoyed only an abbreviated and unheralded shelf life before fading away, largely unnoticed. It had been deemed too vulgar and blasphemous to appeal to conservative readers. At the same time, it was felt that Mano's overall theme of Christian redemption would put off the majority of more liberal-minded readers. Kudos to the folks at Dalkey for recognizing this novel's inherent value and taking the risk to provide us a second chance at it.

The Christian redemption idea is certainly a valid interpretation of Take Five, actually one that is pretty compelling. I would even concede that it may likely have dominated the author's intentions in the process of writing this book. But an identifying mark of good literature (and Take Five is surely that) lies in its openness to multiple and conflicting readings. I, personally, found nothing in the text that served to commit me to any exclusively Christian understanding of the story. Mr. Mano, wisely, has too much respect for his readers to try to do their thinking for them.

Simon Lynxx is the most high-energy, life-affirming cyclone of a character that I have come across since William Gaddis' JR. He constantly sweeps up both the reader and his supporting cast in his wake as he tilts at the windmills of his imagined betrayals and storms the walls denying him the just rewards of his self-proclaimed genius. In the manic process, he voraciously consumes everything and everyone in his path, and is then puzzled in the aftermath when his subjects' loyalty falls short of his expectations. Simon doesn't always have a clear fix on just exactly what it is that he wants, but finds himself, nevertheless, relentlessly driven by his hyper-awareness that he does want something and that it always seems to be just beyond his reach. His campaign in pursuit of these poorly articulated ends is marked by a series of coitus interrupti, variously literal and metaphorical, adding to his general frustration. His speech is vulgar, profane, and literally laced with a crude brand of bigotry. Because his invective is scattershot and aimed at no particular individual or group of individuals, it becomes apparent after a while that Simon is not a seething volcano of hatred and intolerance, but rather uses his offensiveness as a shield to keep intruders at bay. And to a man rendered so vulnerable by self-loathing, everyone is an intruder. Take Five is first and foremost the well-crafted tale of the humbling transformation and self-discovery of Simon Lynxx, but even more intriguing to me is the author's clever exploration of the nature/nurture controversy as it applies to the formation of Simon's character and the facade behind which he has chosen to hide. Mano offers no conclusive answers here, of course, but he does manage to present the question in a thought-provoking light.

As for the language and insensitive bigotry central to a character for whom we are asked to extend sympathy; well, I suspect that Mr. Mano is just a devoted disciple to the teachings of Father Bruce. Take Five is a wonderfully intelligent and engaging novel. It would be a shame for anyone to overlook the substance D. Keith Mano is offering us, while fretting over issues concerning his style.

I was Barnes&Noble-surfing for summer readingwhen I came across this fat volume. I knew D. Keith Mano's name, but not much else. Having read "Take Five" (it hurts me, a former English major, to put the title of a novel in quotes, but this is the Web) I can only guess at the hurt it must have caused its author to have had it be largely ignored in 1982. In fact I, who am undaunted by length or "difficulty," had never heard of it. I picture myself in 1982: "Gravity's Rainbow" went down without a hiccup at around that time.

So: this novel belongs with "GR," "Ulysses" and "The Recognitions" as great modern American encyclopedic novels.. Despite reviews to the contrary, it is actually quite accessible, more so than the novels to which I have just referred. Its hero is pleasantly reminiscent of Payne in Thomas McGuane's "The Bushwhacked Piano," but on steroids. It is very funny, literate, allusive, and, finally, moving. In 1999 its ability to shock is probably confined only to those who have innocently wandered quite wide of the innocuous literature aisle.

After reading this book, I handed it to my very well read brother who said "that is the sadest book I have ever read." It is, and it is not. It is a creative tour-de, like a more restrained and elemental Barthelme. It reminds me (as does the death and life of harry goth) of Confederacy of Dunces...I think Mano is just a brilliant writer.

This funny provocative book has been soorly underated. If you are fortunate enough to find a copy, which will be a real trick, you won't be dissappointed.

The trials of an Episcopal priest who returns to NYC from Nebraska, to help out his sister-in-law (his brother has disappeared) to help run the family business. Which as the title implies is a strip joint (no "gentleman's club" this).

I found this on the street for buck, and thought it would be a nice intro into Mano's work (Take Five has been on queue for a while - but it has moved up drastically).

Mystery, intrigue, religion and naked girls! Actually it's a wonderful study of both topless dancers and priests (Episcopalian not RC) full of humour and pathos. And Mano writes really well. It's seems effortless, but as Fr. Mike says in one of his journal entries, "Good writng is hard work". He's not overbearingly hard (a nice break after Cortazar's Hopscotch, but he is very intelligent (nice period). But what surprised me most about this was that it comes with a sterling recommendation from William F. Buckley (so liberals and conservatives can see eye to eye on a few things, after all).

Keep an eye out for this next time you're browsing your favourite used-bookstore. You know. Outside. In a building.