A Confederacy of Dunces

I recently finished reading John Kennedy Toole’s masterpiece, A Confederacy of Dunces. The comedy of the book is rivaled only by that in Catch 22, another all-time great novel.

I find myself identifying with the writer as he observes the asinine logic and twisted fates of those around him. Every character, Ignatius, Myrna Minkoff, Irene Reilly, the woman named Santa and the accidental police hero.

On a serious note, Ignatius does represent our personal duality of abhorrence and fascination with evil and moral turpitude. He loudly decries nudity, debauchery in every form, but he also partakes heavily in all of these. He is also propelled forward in life by an intense hatred towards Myrna Minkoff; yet he is oddly seeking her satisfaction. He detests the demon which he must feed.

The marriage of the Levy’s has degenerated to a battle of personal pleasures. Mrs. Levy adores bludgeoning her husband’s ego at every opportunity, and Mr. Levy retaliates by scorning and deserting her at every possibility. As usual the kids are caught in the middle as the parents battle for their affections.

The rollicking fun by which this story is unrolled is gut wrenching. Tears of laughter make the book difficult to read at times. Reading of the lumbering Ignatius in his half hotdog vender/ half pirate outfit pushing a paradise vending cart down the street , and the reaction of society women horrified at the sign “12 inches of paradise” taped to the front is just too much. Officer Mancuso’s daily disguises as he attempts to root out evil on the streets of New Orleans and his eventual relegation to a public restroom for weeks in search of a criminal is just tearful hilarity.

Ignatius’ filing system which he institutes at Levy pants is truly revolutionary. He was a man before his time!

Read the book. I guarantee you’ll love it.

I should note that the book was published 12 years after John Kennedy Toole’s death. Toole was depressed with his lack of literary success, and the book probably contains some of that depressed view of life, and he committed suicide at age 32. His mother pressed the book on Walker Percy for years, and he ended up championing its publication in 1980. Such a sad story.