Prose Fit for Gym Reading


You’ve grimaced at chick lit. You’ve sniveled at fratire. Time to get your ass beat by bouncer lit.

The Boston Phoenix has a piece this week detailing the rise of the literary trend of “war stories, tall tales and tips on fighting,” which began in earnest with Jamie O’Keefe‘s 1997 tome Old School-New School but can be traced back to the Patrick Swayze bare-knuckle spectacular Road House. Today, bouncer lit has reached its cultural zenith with the release of Clublife, Rob the Bouncer‘s chronicle of guarding doors in West Chelsea.

The movement contains overtly testosterone-filled titles (Show No Fear, Fight: Or, Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Ass-Kicking but Were Afraid You’d Get Your Ass Kicked for Asking, Muscle) by tough sounding dudes (Marc “Animal” MacYoung, Rob the Bouncer), clearly not your garden-variety literati. But what these beasts of men lack in literary chops they more than make up for in fully gunned lats and delts. Read it, bitch.

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