Fiction as accessory.

If accolades for fiction were handed out based solely on title or premise, Patricia Marx's first novel Him Her Him Again The End of Him would stand a good chance of raking in the awards. Marx's title is one of the wittist ones I've seen, and that snazzy cover begs to be shown off at your local trendy coffee spot. In fact, Him Her would make great reading for quick lunch hours or coffee breaks, as Marx's slight novel works best in small doses.

Him Her opens with our unnamed protagonist, a throughly neurotic graduate student currently trying to avoid doing her dissertation at Cambridge University. In the midst her studies appears the erudite, uptight psychological philospher Eugene, who quickly sweeps our heroine off her feet with his musings on Newton and sweet nothings that she pretends to understand. No sooner does she commit to this towering intellect than she discovers that he has run off with a Hellenistic studies major to the Dalmatian coast. More irked than heartbroken, she finds a way to get even with him, and--well, from the title you can fairly easily figure out the end.

Him Her is something of a satire of chick lit, but like that genre, the plot is terribly thin. At times I was really pushing myself to get through to the end, waiting to see if the plot would kick in. Marx's strongest writing came with the portrayal of 'Her' work at a lesser-known New York-based comedy show 'Taped But Proud,' where some of her best one-liners were delivered. But what plot there is seems only there for the delivery of such lines, leading Him Her to sound more like a worn SNL sketch or a plumped up humorous short story rather than novel material. Having read and enjoyed some of Marx's work in The New Yorker, Vogue and Harper's Bazaar, I know she can write well for articles. As a novel, Him Her Him Again The End of Him has its moments, but even for light reading, it doesn't quite live up to its promise.