There’s something deliciously ironic about a book called Less leaving me wanting… well, more.
I went into this Pulitzer Prize-winning novel by Andrew Sean Greer with high expectations. A witty, globe-trotting, midlife crisis novel about a washed-up writer processing heartbreak? Sign me up. And, to be fair, there were moments I really connected with Arthur Less. His awkward encounters, self-doubt and the way he bumbles his way through life feeling like he’s one step behind the plot—relatable. I mean, who among us hasn’t made questionable life choices just to avoid facing our feelings? (Cough me, impulse-buying books instead of addressing my emotional state cough).
But did Less give me the gut-punch, can’t-stop-thinking-about-it feeling I was hoping for?
Not quite.
What’s Less About?
Arthur Less is a nearly 50-year-old, somewhat successful (but not really) novelist who finds himself in a situation we all dread: his ex is getting married. Instead of sitting with his feelings like a normal, emotionally intelligent person, he decides to flee—accepting a series of random literary invitations across the world so that he has the perfect excuse not to attend the wedding. What follows is a chaotic, self-deprecating journey through foreign cities, awkward professional encounters, and introspective moments as Arthur tries (and mostly fails) to come to terms with his life.
On paper, this book should have been everything I love—self-aware humour, literary satire, an ageing gay protagonist grappling with his sense of worth. And at times, it really works. There are moments of pure brilliance—Arthur’s observations, the comedic misfortunes, the cutting reality of growing older in a world that values youth and beauty. But did it fully hit me in the feels? Not as much as I’d hoped.
The Good
Arthur’s existential dread is painfully relatable. Watching him navigate the literary world with a mix of imposter syndrome and mild self-loathing? I get that!
Greer’s writing is undeniably sharp. There are some truly stunning sentences that make you stop and go, “Damn, that was clever.”
It’s funny. Not laugh-out-loud funny, but subtly, dryly humorous in a way that makes you smirk rather than cackle.
The Not-So-Good
It felt distant. Arthur Less is a character you sympathise with, but I never fully felt for him. He’s a bit of a beautiful disaster, but one that keeps you at arm’s length.
Some parts dragged. There were moments where I felt like Arthur’s journey was circling the same existential drain, and I was ready for something—anything—to shake things up.
The romance subplot didn’t hit as hard as I wanted it to. It’s there, but it never quite gave me the emotional punch I crave in a good queer love story.
Final Thoughts
Less is smart, witty and a perfectly enjoyable read—but for me, it was a book I liked rather than loved. I found moments that resonated, but overall, it didn’t leave a lasting impact. It’s like a decent holiday—you enjoy it while you’re there, but you’re not rushing to book a return ticket.
So, would I recommend it? Yes, but with the caveat that it’s more of a slow-burn, introspective novel than an emotionally gripping one. If you love wry humour, literary satire, and existential crises (and, let’s be honest, who doesn’t?), it’s worth picking up.
Rating: 3 out of 5 stars (because 2.5 feels too harsh, right?)
Have you read Less? Did it leave you wanting more or was it everything you hoped for? Let’s me know your thoughts!
Queerly Yours,
Daniel