Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, July 25, 1993 TAG: 9307250194
SECTION: HORIZON PAGE: D-4 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Reviewed by MATTHEW CHITTUM
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
Though it was perhaps inevitable, in "WLT" Garrison Keillor has finally achieved a marriage of his two careers, radio and fiction. The two have lived together for many years in a sort of common-law marriage, but in this novel they are undeniably wedded with predictable but nonetheless enjoyable results.
Keillor's subtitle is appropriate. "WLT" is in fact a romance, and on more than one level.
As might be expected, it is a romance of the early days of radio, when the medium was coming into its own. Keillor treats us to the birth and growth of a radio station in (where else) Minnesota, specifically Minneapolis. Station WLT, which stands with "with lettuce and tomato" is the brainchild of Ray Soderbjerg, a rather paranoid, reactionary and yet clever businessman, not to mention a skilful womanizer, and his brother Roy, a quiet genius and inventor.
They start the station as a means of promoting their sandwich shop. The shop quickly falls by the wayside and before long WLT has the Pillsbury people advertising on the radio and soon after becomes a CBS affiliate.
Keillor revels in creating the shows for his station, like "Organ Reflections" and "Scripture Nuggets" and "The Classroom of the Air." At times he even seems to be living vicariously in the golden age of radio in these pages. He writes songs like the opening of "The Old Barn Dance," and commercial copy not unlike those mock ads on his own public radio show, as well as the story lines of running soaps such as "Friendly Neighbor," in which Dad Benson sits and has lunch with his family while the radio audience listens in.
On another level, Keillor recognizes the romantic nature of his radio family's lives, especially the family of Dad Benson. The happy endings and neat little half-hour packages of radio stories are contrasted with the harsh realities of the lives of those who immerse themselves in the magic speaking box, like the little boy Francis whose father dies in a train wreck. Though the unusually cruel and unsympathetic children at school make his life a living hell, and his mother refuses to leave the bed and his sister goes to live with an uncle, Francis seems content to adopt Dad Benson's family as his own and to continue to learn big words from "The Classroom of the Air."
Despite the new union of his interests, "WLT" is in many ways typical Keillor. The episodic style is there, jumping from brief tale to brief tale, and from character to character. The usual shallow character development is there, as are the numerous and humorous fringe characters who enter the story, give their one good line and exit. And Keillor's magnificent eye for detail fills the novel with those local-color-yet-somehow-universal tidbits that are the trademark of his style.
"WLT" is a very funny book but a problem arises when the novel dissolves, as it does a few times, into a vehicle for showcasing the thousand and one ideas Keillor couldn't work into "Prairie Home Companion" or "American Radio Company."
Another curious element, which might account for why many of these skits and characters and events didn't find their way onto public radio, is the presence of the risque and scatological. Naughty stuff abounds in the novel, from the 13-year-old actress who shocks old men to gospel singers on Benzedrine to multiple references to flatulence and much, much more.
"WLT" is a bit contrived at times, even forced, and it occasionally loses sight of its story but despite those flaws, it's worth the time it demands, if only for its dirty little departures from the well-washed and well-worn Lake Wobegon tales.
Matthew Chittum is a Roanoke writer and bartender.
by CNB