DOG DAYS

by Daniel Lyons

224 pp., $23

Simon & Schuster

After reading Daniel Lyons debut novel, Dog Days, one cannot help but be dazed and confused. Although the 224-page book certainly reads very quickly and has its humorous moments, the basic premise upon which it is founded makes little to no sense. The novel could have been a much better first effort had it not relied so heavily upon ethnic, particularly Irish and Italian, stereotypes, homophobic jokes, scatological humor and ridiculous portrayals of Mafia types in Boston's North End. Had Lyons focused more on developing real characters and a stimulating plot, Dog Days might actually be a worthwhile read. As it stands, unfortunately, it barely qualifies as beach-reading material, because it's too boring, too violent and too lacking in romance for a truly pro beach reader to be caught dead with it.

Dog Days centers around Reilly, a twenty-something software developer living in the North End of Boston with his roommate, a fellow computer nerd. Reilly's character is completely underdeveloped, and the reader never understands why he makes his bad decisions without ever questioning them himself. For example, for the sake of a petty vendetta, Reilly puts himself, his roommate, his girlfriend and a slew of other characters in great physical danger by stealing the prize pooch of a local Mafioso. Reilly does not remotely consider the idea that he or his friends might be killed for their stupidity until they are forced to embark on a high-speed race to Miami, culminating in violent showdown between factions of a crime family. After going through two car tire slashings and getting caught stealing $30,000 from the neighborhood boss, one would think that Reilly, with all his computer-knowledge, might get the point and give the dog back to her owner.

Not only is the plot of Dog Days a total cliche--it ends sappily ever after when Reilly, the yuppie boy, realizes love can somehow outweigh money--the characters are stereotyped to the point of offending. Throughout the novel, all the Italians living in Reilly's North End neighborhood are either connected with the Mafia or are vulgar and stupid thugs, while the Boston Irish are crude drunks (including Reilly's mother!). The women are beautiful yet emotionally damaged by problematic relationships with their fathers. Even Reilly's supposed best friend and roommate cannot escape the ethnic pigeonholing, as he hails from an Orthodox Jewish family, and, therefore, has hair described as weird, is smarter than Reilly and ultimately has his great big nose broken by the Mafia.

While it has recently become fashionable to occasionally poke fun at political correctness, particularly in the entertainment industry--take, for example, films like Bulworth and the highly rated television show "Politically Incorrect"--the undercurrent of homophobia and racism in Dog Days goes much too far. There seems to be some kind of degrading homosexual joke or insinuation in nearly every chapter, not to mention the constant marginalization of the Italians living in the North End. Perhaps Lyons fully intended to explore the pre-existing homoerotic relationship between Reilly and his roommate Even, a scenario that would have admittedly been more interesting to read than the slapstick imitation-Tarantino Mafia violence which bulks up Dog Days. Reilly and Evan are always denying that they are attracted to each other and make all sorts of homophobic jokes, to no avail--even their girlfriends insist that there is something deeper to their friendship. Yet Lyons chose to take the more mundane path: instead of exploring the fine line between friendship and love between the two, he browbeats his readers with just another book about just another average guy getting entangled with in the Mafia's business.

While Lyons is unable to convey much of any deep sentiment from any of his cookie-cutter characters, Dog Days is not without some positive aspects. Lyons possesses a breezy and enjoyable style, although it is not particularly complex or challenging. Again, maybe the one-sidedness of the characters stems more from the lack of any sort of complication in the plot or of the novel as a whole. Lyons has not made much of an effort to broaden or expand his characters--each is as constant and predictable as the weather in a coolly air-conditioned room.

One might think that Lyons would want his characters to imitate the mercurial landscape and climate of the Boston they inhabit. Sadly, life and art could never coincide in Dog Days, as life for Reilly and his cohorts is too predictable. At one point Reilly wishes that he and his girlfriend could be a happy couple, "the kind you see in an Eddie Bauer catalogue, healthy and well-scrubbed nondysfunctional Eddie Bauer couples do." If only Reilly realized how close he and his little clique were to the so-called Eddie Bauer ideal.

One more minor yet disturbing point about the novel is the scattering of scatological jokes and references to Coco the dog's bowel movements. In one revolting scene, Coco suffers heat stroke and Reilly must administer a cold-water enema to the dog not once but three times. We are given the details in their full glory, not only about the enemas but of Coco's explosive bowel movements as well. Consider Reilly's deep thoughts about how he must cure Coco's home-sickness: "There are worse things, I suppose, than having to give a dog an ice water enema. But right at the moment I couldn't think of any."

When it's all over, Reilly describes Coco as "looking unhappy--which is, I suppose, how anyone would look after taking three cold water enemas right in a row." Clearly, Reilly is quite capable of stating the obvious and not much more.

Unfortunately, the simplicity of Lyons's characters, plots and dialogues becomes overwhelmingly annoying and frustrating. Not only is Dog Days generally unbelievable and insulting to many minorities, it is fluff that probably wouldn't even fly on a hot summer's day at the beach. Essentially, the moral of the Dog Days is that if you don't steal dogs from the Mafia, your life will be straight out of the Eddie Bauer catalogue. Wait a minute--the Eddie Bauer catalogue? No, according to Lyons, life for Boston's yuppies is only worthy of J. Crew.