[The Men's Club] seems more a short story writer's idea of a novel—a mistaken idea, though understandably so, and an oversimplified one, in which the novel is seen as merely a longer form of short story. This is not longer by much, either…. It takes more time to read, but delves no further in that time; it features a larger cast of characters, but reveals no new layers within them as the story progresses. Even its considerable virtues are a short story's virtues: stunning efficiency, speedy flashes of description, and a breathtaking singleness of purpose. (p. 31)

[The] men seem poorly characterized. They can be distinguished from one another only by the grossest of quirks, a kind of shorthand method of identification…. Essentially, they do not differ; they are "talking heads," combining their voices to state the embattled male viewpoint. Least distinct of all is the narrator, who...