Cruel Shoes by Steve Martin

I'm madly in love with this book. First of all, look at the cover.



He's the Walt Whitman of 70s comedy. Most of these stories are more whimsy than they are laugh out loud funny, but several are absolute delights. His poetry parodies are cute, but poetry is already such a joke that it's not very difficult to make fun of. One or two of his false poems walk the irony line on one foot, leading me to consider turning in his work to an online poetry publisher, just to see.

The title story, "Cruel Shoes," is just flat-out hilarious, with a nice dash of consumer-criticism thrown in. The shoes themselves are, if you're wondering, quite cruel. My other favorites include "Women Without Bones," "The Nervous Father," "Serious Dogs," and "The Bohemians."

They are all clever, and they are all short. I am tempted to cut and paste one of them, but I wouldn't know which one. And then one would lead to another. If you like Steve Martin, which it seems not everyone does (these days), you need to go back to the originals. Don't think that you're some kind of expert because you read Shopgirl or Pure Drivel. Get real, get original. This was comedy at its most fun and purposeless. What is the point of any of these stories? You don't really know. You just get the feeling they brought a smirk to his face.

You could count the punchlines in this book on one hand, and you probably wouldn't have to use the whole thing. It's a treat despite its age (a ripe old thirty). If you're not convinced, I will gladly type up a story or two. Or, if you're too lazy to ask, just look at the cover again. Go on, look at it. Tell me you don't wish you looked that cool.