Did not finish. I picked this as a Minnesota author (male) for the bookclub. I haven't read any Garrison Keillor, so was looking forward to this. Nobody liked it, and most of us did not finish it. Told from the point of view of a 14-year-old boy, it was like being back in junior high. If you like sex and fart jokes, great. Otherwise, I'd skip this book. I got the impression that it might be a bit autobiographical (sadly). The bookclub (all women) had the reaction "Is this REALLY all guys think about?" I hate to be sexist, but I remember in grad school being the only woman in a medieval history class, and yes, it got pretty raunchy sometimes, and then they would all smirk and apologize (yeah right...) So maybe guys would like this book - the women in the bookclub certainly didn't care for it.
From Publishers Weekly
With a four-year hiatus since Wobegon Boy, legions of Keillor faithful will likely hold candlelight vigils in front of their favorite booksellers awaiting the arrival of this long overdue episode in the ongoing checkered history of the fictional Minnesota hamlet. Vacillating between poignant, endearing, outrageous and mocking, this thoroughly engaging, frequently hilarious bildungsroman is narrated by the libidinous, iconoclastic 14-year-old wannabe writer Gary. Recounting the trials and tribulations of coming of age under the smothering influence of the Sanctified Brethren, a religious sect preaching unrelenting hellfire and damnation during the summer of 1956 in the tiny backwater of Lake Wobegon, the somewhat nerdy hero has a sexual fixation on his slightly older cousin Kate, abhors his geeky goody-two-shoes older sister, is obsessed with pornographic sexual fantasies engendered from reading a purloined copy of the verboten magazine High School Orgies, and is preoccupied by such intellectual pursuits as classifying variations of the 10 known categories of flatulence. Given an Underwood typewriter as a bribe from his uncle to tattletale on Kate's romance with a ne'er-do-well local baseball hero, Gary turns to writing pornographic stories about his imagined adventures with Kate before he is serendipitously handed the job of substitute sportswriter for the local paper. Game after game, he is forced to observe Kate's budding romance, until the affair predictably culminates in the age-old biological consequence and the family spins into crisis mode while our hero suffers a broken heart. Although the denouement is more fizzle than bang, avid Keillorites will be left shouting "more."