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DIARY OF AN OXYGEN THIEF
by
 Anonymous A review by Michael Allen(Grumpy Old Bookman)
mikel01@globalnet.co.uk
First published in 2006,
 Diary of an Oxygen Thief 
is a shortnovel which has acquired a modest cult following. Googlethe title and you will find a few enthusiasts; and a booksellerin Williamsburg, Brooklyn, declares that it has become ‘asurprise dark-horse Williamsburg bestseller.’Not everyone, however, is going to be enthusiastic, and thisreview should at least enable you to decide whether youmight enjoy the book or not.The first line reads: ‘I liked hurting girls.’Now, the first line of a novel is, of course, pretty important,and I suspect that this one might elicit at least two strongresponses. Some readers will immediately hurl the book across the room in disgust. Others might perk upconsiderably, looking forward to some stimulatingdescriptions of S&M.Both reactions would be based, I believe, on amisapprehension.
 Diary of an Oxygen Thief 
is not aboutS&M. At least, not the usual kind. It is a detailed, close-focus, first-person account of a man who for years abuses women emotionally; he takes advantage of them, and, forcomplicated psychological reasons, takes pleasure inhumiliating them. After a while, however, he meets a girl who has the same effect on him. He discovers, notsurprisingly, that it isn’t a lot of fun being on the receivingend of such treatment (unless, of course, you are a genuinemasochist); and he concludes (or at least I do, on his behalf),
 
that there might be better ways to conduct a relationshipthan via this rather immature mutual battering.The blurb on the back cover invites you to imagine that thisstory is what might happen if Holden Caulfield met Lolita.But even if you recognise these literary references (and noteveryone will), I have to say that they are not particularly helpful. It is fifty years since I read young Holden’s story, but I see nothing of him in Anonymous’s narrator; and Ican’t see that Lolita has much in common (other thangender) with the narrator’s nemesis, either.The above may be all you need to know. You may havedecided to buy the book, looking forward to it eagerly, or youmay have decided that you already know more than you wishto know about it, and wouldn’t touch it with the proverbial.But wait: what follows might help too. While I was reading this novel I realised that I wasn’t really enjoying it all that much (as you do), but then I thought, holdon a minute….Perhaps I am missing the point here. Perhaps this author isa good deal smarter than I am, and he has realised that thereis no point in writing a novel which tries to do that which isdone so much more effectively and economically by othermedia, such as a movie, a TV drama, or a YouTube video.I am coming round to the view that the novel in general (notthis novel in particular) is beginning to look like a very flatand uninspiring ‘art form’. For most consumers, the novellooks a bit like a water-colour painting when compared witha movie. In other words, a bit dull, lifeless, and wishy- washy.So maybe Mr Anonymous, the author of 
 Diary of an OxygenThief,
has cottoned on to the fact that the only novel which is worth writing these days is one which is short, and goes rightinside the head of its characters; one which doesn’t just show actions, but gives you an insight into the thoughts andmotivations, hopes and fears, of the person being portrayed.
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