Paul Theroux's Hotel Honolulu (2001) is a curious novel for several reasons. First of all, his novels are often hit or miss for me-but I enjoyed this novel for it's liveliness and insights filtered through the Theroux-like doppelganger narrator (a common device in Theroux novels) who divorces and moves to Hawaii to start over and ends up managing a third rate hotel in Waikiki. This manager, a former writer (we never learn his name) who recounts the stories of the people he encounters as the manger of the bigger than life owner Buddy Hamstra's hotel. Hamstra is a rich self-made, self-proclaimed "dog" known for his excesses in eating and drinking, and an unrepentant practical joker who survived two wives and ends up with a mail order Filipino bride. Hamstra can be seen as a metaphor for Hawaii itself in some respects. Many of the stories end violently or are concerned with sex and they allow the narrator to make observations about people, Hawaii, and life in general. It is essentially a collection of vignettes held together by location and the narrator who recounts the many stories-there are 80 rooms in the hotel and 80 chapters in the book.
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