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By Robert Eringer
After Stukey's killing spree inside Walt Disney World catapults him into the national spotlight, an anguished Disney chairman hires ex-FBI agent Jeff Dalkin to perform damage control. With no nobler motive than his own personal gain, Dalkin grows determined to be the man who catches the country's latest criminal celebrity. Dalkin's episodes of Tourette's Syndrome and resemblance to a famous Hollywood actor collide with Stukey's outrageously twisted logic to create a world as bizarre and colorful as one of Stukey's paintings. This fast-paced novel is a brush stroke of suspense, shaded with comedy, tinged with farce. Its hue is popular culture, glazed with insanity; art versus humanity. In his bizarre and provocative novel, Lo Mein,
Robert Eringer leads his readers on a frenetic journey into the mind of
an obsessed artist-turned-killer. Willard Stukey is a self-proclaimed
artistic genius whose lack of acceptance by the snooty New York art world
leads him to develop a new and deadly method of self-expression: mass
murder. His killing spree inside Walt Disney World earns him the attention
he craves -- and some he doesn't expect. Jeff Dalkin, a Bruce Willis lookalike,
is the former FBI agent hired by a shrill Disney chairman to and end the
ensuing media circus. Dalkin's uncontrollable outbursts of obscenities
and odd words -- the result of Tourette's Syndrome -- provide the novel
with its peculiar title and ambience. "Eringer is a great writer." Doug Childers, Editor, WAG Magazine (www.thewag.net), a magazine for Decadent Readers. "Robert Eringer gets done in the first ten pages of Lo Mein what most thriller writers would take a book to do: Willard Stukey, dissatisfied with the world's indifference to his artistic efforts, buys a 9mm machine pistol, catches a train to Disney World and opens fire on the unwitting crowd waiting for Disney's nightly Electric Parade. Sound like a psycho thriller? It's not. A thriller's aimed at your gut and goes for visceral emotional reactions (caring inordinately for the good guy's well-being and fervently wishing various catastrophes on the bad guys), page in and page out. Eringer, on the other hand, is a satirist aiming for your head--or, uh, brain, rather--in ways that a thriller writer would never see fit to think economical. "Lo Mein has its thriller elements, of course, but they are brilliantly ironized. After seeing himself described on CNN as a 'failed' artist, for instance, Stukey calls CNN and declares (spontaneously) that "This is just beginning, guy. Donald Duck is next. And after that, Goofy. And after Goofy, Snow White, and all seven of those fucking dwarfs. If my demands are not met." The Electric Parade shooting, it seems, was "a live art exhibit," but now his demands are straightforward: the Museum of Modern Art in New York must give him an exhibit, and the New York Times has to review it--full page, minimum. "Until that happens," Stukey tells CNN, "I'm gonna keep knocking off Disney characters." "But it's not going to be easy because Jeff Dalkin, Eringer's recurring detective-with-Tourette's-Syndrome, is advising Michael Eisner, Disney's CEO, on how to make Stukey go away. What? Oh, yes: Tourette's. As in, spouting uncontrollable profanities when prompted by certain words (million dollars: "blow me"; CNN: "turds and maggots"; lawyers: "lying labonzas"). Throw in the fact that Dalkin looks exactly like Bruce Willis and you're guaranteed a lot of surprised looks from the characters who bump into the profanity-spouting Dalkin. Crazed psycho vowing to kill and kill again...outsider detective(ex-FBI agent, no less) vowing to track him down...and wouldn't you know it: Stukey becomes a CNN call-in celebrity like that. And--does this never stop?--to their joy and dismay, MoMA and the Times decide that Stukey's art is the work of a genius. The van Gogh of his times. <"So what do you do with the guy, assuming you can catch him? Kill our era's van Gogh or give him enough money to keep painting blissfully into old age? With Eringer hurtling through his story at hilariously cartoonish pop-art speed, readers will certainly not find themselves bored. Or thought-free. For all the broad, subversively dark comedy, Lo Mein is a book with a message. And who says you have to be bored by exposure to goodness to learn something redeeming?" --Charlie Onion, Wag Magazine, April 2000. "A headlong plot.... pulses with blunt stabs of black comedy." -- Charlene L. Brusso, reviewing for Independent Publisher (www.independentpublisher.com), May 2000. "Like Crime and Punishment, but with more crime, less punishment, and the untimely death of Mickey Mouse. Lo Mein goes a little crazy with everything from Bruce Willis to a shooting spree in Disney World.... The deaths in Disney World have a twinge of twisted humor; the murder spree exacts the ultimate revenge on the Disneyfication of the world. If any greater lesson is to be derived from "Lo Mein" it's Eringer's denouncement of the irrational litigation rampant in American society compiled with the large amounts of power in the hands of such entities as Walt Disney and CNN." -- Kate Westrich, Book Critic, The Post (Athens, Ohio), April 6, 2000. "Lo Mein is an amusing mystery, filled with suspense." When asked what inspired him to write Lo Mein, Robert Eringer responded, "A variety of disparate influences, a balance of caffeine and alcohol, a dash of lunacy." It's a response that reveals this author's tongue-in-cheek, laugh-about-it attitude, an attitude that shines through in his latest novel. Lo Mein is an amusing mystery, filled with suspense. It is the woeful story of failed artist Willard Stukey, whose inability to handle rejection from the New York art world causes him to embark on a series of killing sprees, or in his words, live art exhibitions. His first "show" takes place in Walt Disney World, where he kills dozens of people, including Mickey and Minnie Mouse. Jeff Dalkin, an ex-FBI agent who suffers from Tourette's syndrome and looks exactly like movie star Bruce Willis, is hired to bring Stukey in before he acts on his threat to next murder Donald Duck. What follows is a fun tale with some wonderful twists and turns. There is no doubt Eringer's strength is his humor.... Even though the murderer is known from the beginning, mystery lovers are sure to enjoy the cat and mouse chase. The worst that can happen if you decide to read this novel is you might have a few laughs, and a craving for Chinese food. -- Trudy Kelly Forsythe, reviewing for Bamboo Grove (http://www.bamboogrovebooks.com), June 2000. By Gretchen Dent, The Bookshelf: "The author's notes tell us that he had a good time writing this book, a fact which is entirely obvious upon first reading.... It moves quickly to a surprising finish.... I have to admit that I would have liked to have seen Michael Eisner's face upon his reading of the book. There are some readers who might find the utter randomness of the killings a turn-off, but overall it's a quick and entertaining read." Read the entire review. By Anne Lewis, the [Notre Dame University] Observer In his most recent book, Lo Mein, Robert Eringer's imaginative, zany and provocative flare for the distortion of reality comes through magnificently, striking the reader at odd, but somehow wonderful, intervals. Somewhat like the author himself, Lo Mein's principal character, Willard Stukey, has decided to change his career a bit. This explains his decision to perform innovative murders rather than paint. The former does, after all, require more thought and preparation, provide more risk and excitement and receive more attention than the latter profession. 'I had to,' snapped Stukey. 'No one was paying any attention. My act of violence made them sit up, take notice. Sometimes desperate measures are necessary.'" Read the full review. By Laura Schaefer, University of Wisconsin Cardinal: "Mein,Robert Eringer, is a prime example of the old adage, "you can't judge a book by its cover." With an odd title and a muted work of modern art on the cover, a reader expects a quiet slice of life tale about an artist and...Chinese food? Well, needless to say, Lo Mein is not quiet and it's not a typical slice-of-life tale. Better classified as an over-the-top romp through popular culture, this book captures our values about art, human life and even Walt Disney World." Read the full review By By Sarah Torribo-Bond, California Polytechnical University CalPolyPost: "I like to think of myself as a sensitive person. I didn't expect to find myself laughing out loud over a novel about a frustrated artist who uses the Disney franchise as the backdrop for a fiendish killing spree. But I did laugh. "Lo Mein" is hilarious in spite of its ostensibly dark subject matter. Author Robert Eringer has brilliantly enlivened the usual murder/hunt/resolution format by creating one of the most original protagonists in the crime novel genre." Read the full review. Lo Mein Anyone? By Jill Toscano, Staff Reporter, The Villanovan, April 14, 2000. What happens when a struggling artist gets turned down 50 consecutive times by art galleries throughout New York City? He goes on a killing spree through Disney World, of course! In a new novel by author Robert Eringer, titled Lo Mein, main character Willard Stukey can’t take it anymore. What he thinks are brilliant masterpieces keep getting rejected by gallery curators. Stukey, therefore, decides that he will pursue a new form of “live art”— mass murders throughout the happy fantasy lands of Disney World. His first victims are Mickey and Minnie Mouse, and a whole slew of other spectators during the infamous Electric Parade. Stukey calmly leaves the scene elated. “I killed Mickey Mouse?” He asks himself in his rented car. “Now that’s art,” Stukey exclaims triumphantly. Maybe this will finally bring him the attention he so deserves. Anguished Disney chairman Michael Eisner, hires Jeff Dalkin, a former FBI agent with Tourette’s Syndrome (which becomes evident when he tells his new boss to “Blow a fart”). Dalkin, a dead-ringer for Bruce Willis, starts on the investigation immediately, only to find that the media loves this case. CNN has appropriately deemed it the “Mickey Mouse Manhunt,” and even airs live telephone calls Stukey makes to them when he feels he has been insulted. The pursuit continues, following every twist imaginable. In order for the mass killings to stop, Stukey demands that two of his wishes be granted. First, he wants his paintings to be put on display at the Modern Museum of Art. Secondly, he wants a full-page dedicated to him in the New York Times reviewing his works. When Dalkin decides to comply with Stukey’s wishes, the unexpected occurs- the snooty NYC art world thinks Stukey is the next Van Gogh and that his works are utterly brilliant! However, Stukey cannot believe that the same people who wouldn’t look twice at his paintings now call them ingenious. Interestingly, Stukey makes one final request. While taking hostage at CNN, he demands a bowl of Burgoo-yes, Burgoo—which the reader finds out later is squirrel brain stew! I wouldn’t think of giving out the ending to this undoubtedly strange, yet fascinating novel by Robert Eringer. I would also be lying if I said I was not laughing out loud at some parts of the novel, especially at Dalkin’s outbursts, which become more and more offensive as the story progresses. Lo Mein satirizes the media world, the art world and the mindset of places like Disney World. While it is easy to read and amusing, it explores the dark side of creativity without losing its sense of humor. Stukey’s actions and Dalkin’s resemblance to Bruce Willis prompt such questions as why do we celebrate criminals and scandalize celebrities? Who sets the guidelines for brilliant art? And why would anyone eat squirrel brain stew? Eringer, a former journalist, writes an extremely intelligent story under the facade of black comedy. It is worth reading, if not for the laughs, then for contemplating the irony of society in general. ABOUT THE AUTHOR: AN INTERVIEW WITH ROBERT ERINGER Q.: What inspired you to write Lo Mein? Q.: How is Lo Mein related to your previous novels, particularly Crinkum
Crankum? Q.: Willard Stukey blames "society's failure to recognize artistic genius"
for his criminal turn. In your opinion, should society, especially the
art community, do more to nurture artists? Q.: In Lo Mein, pervasive press coverage turns Stukey into a celebrity
after he commits mass murder. Is there a better way for the media to report
horrific crimes? Q.: Why does Willard Stukey choose to direct his crimes against Disney?
Q.: Critic Ada Louise Huxtable has complained that the "Disneyfication"
of America has caused people to neglect authentic culture for a more generic,
synthetic counterpart. Do you agree? Please explain. CHAPTER ONE: From Lo Mein, © 2000 by Robert Eringer
Willard Stukey's art was not selling. Not one painting. Canvases tripled along his walls, an incessant reminder not of the artist's failure, but of society's failure to recognize artistic genius. Fifty rejections was all he would tolerate. After number fifty, Stukey had decided, he would take action -- drastic action -- to achieve the fame that was his due. Willard Stukey was not about to wait till he was dead to earn the recognition he so richly deserved. After rejection number forty-five, Stukey began a countdown inside his Soho loft. His home-slash-studio wasn't actually in Soho, but on the cheap end of the Village; nor was it a loft, but a sub-level two-room apartment. "Soho loft" is what he told people who asked. It sounded right; it fit his image, as he imagined his image to be. Good PR. The final insult -- Rejection Number Fifty -- came from the Ricco-Maresco Gallery on artsy Wooster Street. This outrage was compounded by Stukey having misrepresented himself as an outsider artist. That is to say, an artist with no formal art training, Soho's latest craze, incorporating patients from mental institutions and poor black southern folk who painted with mud and pigments from fruit and vegetables. In fact, Stukey had trained his whole life to be an artist, attending several shi-shi art and design schools. As part of his image, Stukey could imagine oil paint running through his veins. And now this. Not even good enough to be an outsider. Stukey had contemplated the possibilities of drastic action over goblets of Pernod and water in his favorite hangout, the Temple Bar, on Lafayette Street, frequented, as it was, by New York's arterati; had already decided upon his new medium: killing people. But he hadn't yet decided on form. Form, he understood -- the artist that he was -- was everything. Should he stalk and murder the gallery owners who had so callously (and stupidly!) rejected his masterpieces. Stukey had poured his blood and guts into the abstract, textured works. Would it not be poetic (no, artistic!) to paint his canvases with their blood and guts and brains? What did they really know about art anyway? Inside the Temple Bar, over a goblet of Pernod and water -- a stab at emulating Vincent van Gogh's proclivity for absinthe -- Stukey re-read the brusque, two sentence dismissal from Ricco-Maresco, before re-examining his own theory of art: Good art stirred emotion. Maybe it made you laugh; maybe it made you cry. If he could not convince the established art community with his brush, he would do it with another, less refined instrument. And soon, everyone, everywhere, would talk about Willard Stukey. As an extension of this, art dealers would broker his paintings; collectors would buy and hang them prominently. And, ah, the derision that would greet those who once rejected his work! Ultimately, Stukey rejected the notion of victimizing the art community. It was just too simplistic. And it tasted like sour chardonnay. No, Stukey needed to make a bigger statement. He was out to break records.
PUBLISHING FACTS:
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In
1995, the NBC "Today Show" described Robert Eringer as "A bar fly who
writes about the intrigue and lunacy of life," and said that "he may be
to Monaco what Hemmingway was to Havana." A petition to the U.S. Supreme
Court some years ago called Eringer "mysterious" and questioned whether
or not he truly exists. If he can be found it is usually in London, Monaco,
or Washington, D.C. As a novelist, Eringer lives in a fantasy world of
billionaires, spies and assorted book people. In reality, he keeps the
same company.