Product Description

This wickedly funny, big-hearted novel about life in the office signals the arrival of a gloriously talented new writer. The characters in THEN WE CAME TO THE END cope with a business downturn in the time-honored way: through gossip, secret romance, elaborate pranks, and increasingly frequent coffee breaks. By day they compete for the best office furniture left behind and try to make sense of the mysterious pro-bono ad campaign that is their only remaining "work."

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #37074 in Books
• Published on: 2007-03-01
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Hardcover
• 400 pages

Amazon.com Review
Amazon Best of the Month Spotlight Title, April 2007: It's 2001. The dot-com bubble has burst and rolling layoffs have hit an unnamed Chicago advertising firm sending employees into an escalating siege mentality as their numbers dwindle. As a parade of employees depart, bankers boxes filled with their personal effects, those left behind raid their fallen comrades' offices, sifting through the detritus for the errant desk lamp or Aeron chair. Written with confidence in the tricky-to-pull-off first-person plural, the collective fishbowl perspective of the "we" voice nails the dynamics of cubicle culture--the deadlines, the gossip, the elaborate pranks to break the boredom, the joy of discovering free food in the breakroom. Arch, achingly funny, and surprisingly heartfelt, it's a view of how your work becomes a symbiotic part of your life. A dysfunctional family of misfits forced together and fondly remembered as it falls apart. Praised as "the Catch-22 of the business world" and "The Office meets Kafka," I'm happy to report that Joshua Ferris's brilliant debut lives up to every ounce of pre-publication hype and instantly became one of my favorite books of the year. --Brad Thomas Parsons

From Publishers Weekly
Starred Review. In this wildly funny debut from former ad man Ferris, a group of copywriters and designers at a Chicago ad agency face layoffs at the end of the '90s boom. Indignation rises over the rightful owner of a particularly coveted chair ("We felt deceived"). Gonzo e-mailer Tom Mota quotes Walt Whitman and Ralph Waldo Emerson in the midst of his tirades, desperately trying to retain a shred of integrity at a job that requires a ruthless attention to what will make people buy things. Jealousy toward the aloof and "inscrutable" middle manager Joe Pope spins out of control. Copywriter Chris Yop secretly returns to the office after he's laid off to prove his worth. Rumors that supervisor Lynn Mason has breast cancer inspire blood lust, remorse, compassion. Ferris has the downward-spiraling office down cold, and his use of the narrative "we" brilliantly conveys the collective fear, pettiness, idiocy and also humanity of high-level office drones as anxiety rises to a fever pitch. Only once does Ferris shift from the first person plural (for an extended fugue on Lynn's realization that she may be ill), and the perspective feels natural throughout. At once delightfully freakish and entirely credible, Ferris's cast makes a real impression. (Mar.)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

From The Washington Post
Reviewed by James P. Othmer

Several pages into Joshua Ferris's very funny and impressively observed first novel, "Then We Came to the End," we start comparing it with other memorable novels about the world of advertising. But after a few chapters we broaden the parameters and consider it in terms of the corporate novel, the office novel, the cube farm novel. By now, we've met most of the characters -- an eccentric, paranoid, hypercritical group at a failing Chicago ad agency -- and we realize that not only do we want to know more about them, but we've also begun to feel as if we are one of them, congregating in the hall to discuss yet another round of layoffs, the latest confounding assignment or the disturbing behavior of a co-worker. Which is why we conclude that categorizing "Then We Came to the End" as anything other than an original and inspired work of fiction would be doing it a great disservice.

For starters, there's Ferris's clever use of the first-person-plural voice of "We" (which we've decided to co-opt for this review). As the novel commences in the late 1990s, we're introduced to the workplace by way of a collective recollection of headier times:

"We were fractious and overpaid. . . It was the era of take-ones and tchotchkes. The world was flush with Internet cash and we got our fair share of it. It was our position that logo design was every bit as important as product performance and distribution systems. 'Wicked cool' were the words we used to describe our logo designs. 'Bush league' were the words we used to describe the logo designs of other agencies -- unless it was a really well-designed logo, in which case we bowed down before it, much like the ancient Mayans did their pagan gods. We, too, thought it would never end."

While the We voice contributes to the book's strangely compelling vibe, it also presents challenges. Occasionally, the narrative suffers from too many anecdotes that begin along the lines of, We heard such and such from so and so who heard it from . . . And in the first sections, the collective We represents such a large, diverse group that it's difficult to feel emotionally vested. But this is only because Ferris does not cheat, and his discipline pays off nicely in the end.

The primary characters are revealed as broad types, as if described by a slightly snarky co-worker on our first day at the office. That's Tom Mota, an Emerson-quoting, increasingly unhinged divorc‚ who wears three company polo shirts, every day. By the copy machine is Chris Yop, who's still coming to work even though he was fired days ago. And the guy around whom the others are gathered, that's Benny Shassburger, recounting the latest maudlin rumors. In better times, Benny would talk loudly and without fear of recrimination. But now, "We would listen with only one ear, and with one eye always over our shoulders, in case we needed to bolt back to our desks and commence the charade that our workload was as strong as ever, because only then would we not be laid off."

And laid off they will be. As the economy spirals into a full-blown downturn, an increasing number of employees are forced to "walk Spanish" (a euphemism for being fired, inspired by Spanish Main pirates walking toward execution). Of course, this is when the book becomes most interesting. What began as a workplace farce starts transforming the cumulative pathos of everyday tics into something more meaningful. With the layoffs and the threat of more to come, we are suddenly walking the halls of an office consumed by fear, insecurity and a compulsive fixation on the quotidian extracurricular details of its co-workers.

At times the characters suffer from an excess of eccentricities and tragedies large and small. But Ferris skillfully balances the comic with the authentic, the insightful with the absurd, and we can't help but be transfixed by their stories. Now, when Benny opens a window onto the soul of a co-worker, we have to know more. "We did not like not knowing something. We could not abide being left in the dark." Everyone wonders if Lynn does have cancer, or if Joe is gay, or if Carl stole Janine's meds, but no one ever bothers to ask the person in question.

At first, this may read as another of Ferris's many brilliant workplace observations. But it unearths a deeper truth about the human condition that is revealed in the novel's satisfying denouement: The people with whom we spend the most time are those we know the least. And yet, somehow, they're the ones we know better than anyone else.

Note: James P. Othmer, the reviewer, is a former advertising executive and the author of the novel "The Futurist"
Copyright 2007, The Washington Post. All rights reserved.

Customer Reviews

Mornings without Promise.
This is an excellent first novel about the employees of that most storied of institutions, an advertising agency. It is simultaneously touching, amusing, and engrossing. It is not, however, the hilarious laugh riot or biting satire that some would claim. Perhaps the sprit of the novel was best summed up in its second sentence, "Our mornings lacked promise." This is a story related by an anonymous narrator about a group of individuals working on the creative staff of a nameless mid-sized Chicago ad agency and it is entirely office centric. The reader sees the people as one would see one's own co-workers in an office setting with only occasional references to homes and families.

As the 21st Century begins, the billings of the agency decline precipitously and being fired or fear of being fired soon becomes a dark undercurrent that runs through everything else that happens in offices and cubicles of the agency's creative staff. As the novel progresses one learns more and more about the quirks and mannerism these hapless folks. Their humanity becomes quite real. If the reader will allow it, you can find yourself actually caring about the individuals that the narrator tells you about. Those of us that are or were knowledge workers will have a haunting sense of familiarity about the people and situations described in this book.

Joshua Ferris has an ear for dialogue and an understanding of emotions that is quite impressive. This reviewer likes his style and the way he structured this novel.

What is "Then We Came To The End" trying to say?
Despite widespread critical acclaim, this book has gotten mixed reviews from customers.

I understand it, and people who hated it aren't wrong. I'd like to address these criticisms later, so please stick with me.

The positive reviews I've read about "Then We Came To The End" are mostly spot-on -- but without giving it away, they don't consistently convey WHY this amusing, touching and ultimately tender book soars - at least for me.

It's the ending.

The last 20 pages of Joshua Ferris's book twisted and turned me in every direction. But it's THE VERY LAST LINE -- (DON'T CHEAT) -- that catapulted me into the universe with the most glorious twist of all.

Many writers searching for something to leave behind that feels ironic or profound -- I'm sorry -- in my view, they just don't know how to end their books. I say this as a consumer who's a voracious reader. Their last pages feel quietly pretentious -- or a little too contemplative or optimistic. Even great literature - especially prize-winning literature - can be so tortuous in construction or over-reaching in their efforts to convey some grand message -- that they feel like work, with sentences so mind-numbing that you need a dictionary and a level of concentration akin to taking a bar exam.

"Then We Came To The End" may not be considered great literature, but it's euphoric. It's wonderful. It underscores that nebulous "thing" that makes the office dull and robotic -- but also vital and vibrant, essential to our lives. The book makes me question, admire and dismiss -- all at once -- why I put up with so much " s***," why I find great satisfaction in my work on one day and why I hate everything the next. The masochistic, sadistic and triumphal feelings I have about work -- and about the "back stories" of my colleagues around me -- there's something weirdly magnetic about all of it -- even as I complain, complain, complain.

In my view, the simplicity (or difficulty) associated with "Then We Came To The End" really depends on whether the material hits you in a way that's familiar and funny, not dull or indulgent. It can do both. And as others have stated, the author's use of the first person plural "we" -- in every chapter but one -- can't be overstated. It's miraculous when it works -- because it's so difficult to pull off without fumbling or confusing the reader. When it does work (as it did for me) - when it's infused with content so beguiling and familiar -- you're no longer aware of the author's writing style, which should be the dream achievement of all great writers. Reading becomes effortless as the clock melts away.

Joshua Ferris recently said in an interview -- and at a recent book signing -- that the thing intriguing about every office is this: Even if you don't know everyone very well or at all, EVERYONE has an OPINION about YOU and everyone else.

This may feel like a universal nugget of common sense, but you're not really aware of it until it unfurls between the lines and chapters of this book. The beginning of most chapters include sub-chapter "headlines" which tease you about what's to come. Soon, boredom and irreverence are transformed into amusing and almost affectionate feelings -- about everything that happens.

The biggest criticism about "Then We Came to the End" is the skeletal development of its characters. Well, when I got to the last line on the last page, it became more clear to me why this MUST be the case. Every character -- in every chapter but one -- is presented as a "type."

But this feels intentional. The collective "we" is forced to guess what each character is thinking. And like most offices, "we" can only know as much as what we SEE or HEAR. The most trivial information becomes precious and titanic. And the results can be tragic AND darkly funny. The collective "we" can't read minds, so we draw our own conclusions to ridiculous lengths. In the end, we have sketches. And this feels right. How many of our co-workers become life-long friends with whom we trust to share our most intimate secrets? One or two if we're lucky. It takes work - AT WORK - to get beneath the surface of our colleagues. Almost everyone comes off thinly drawn because the collective "we" is forever deprived a complete picture of WHAT and HOW each person thinks.

For example, I know people in my office, but some remain a mystery. When I get together with colleagues, we trade stories about everyone. When one guy leaves the room, we might talk about him. Or not. Most of our stories are sprinkled with guesses and presumptions. Who's deviant? Who's got the gun collection? Who's the lush? Who's got the wild double life? "Someone" might know, but "we" as a group don't.

I would say that "Then We Came to the End" is an observational and episodic novel -- subject to wide interpretation -- because of a literary device that seldom works in most novels. If you're looking for "fleshed out" characters and profound themes, you won't find them here. This book isn't for you and this is not a criticism. Your complaints are justified. I believe expectations matter. A novel so widely acclaimed that disappoints will cause anyone to say out loud, "well, this was all hype" - or - "man oh man, those critics are so out of touch with me."

I still believe Ferris has captured the delicate balance between satire and brutal truth, the latter in ways which sound superficial and cliché, but woven in his book as they do, rang true for me.

There's something strange about that colleague you regard with derision or fear on one level, but with admiration and respect the next. And what about work itself? Why is our identity and self-image defined by it? Why does it have to matter more than just a way to put bread on the table? These questions went through my head as I turned each page.

So yeah, I know it's still early. But in my view, "Then We Came To The End" is the most remarkable debut of 2007. While it's difficult to imagine Joshua Ferris topping this, I've no doubt he has a tremendous future and a unique voice that will always feel relevant.

Brilliant first novel...Brilliant Novel
No matter how much we love the established names, the Roths, the Pynchons, the McCarthy's, nothing is quite so exciting as a new author. With that excitement, however, comes the peril of disappointment. Ferris does not disappoint. One gets the feeling upon reading this book that a new but permanent voice is being added to the American literary scene, and that we are lucky to have a book like this on our shelves.

Yes, it is written in the first-person plural, from the perspective of an ad agency, and yes it is laugh-out-loud funny. But the style is no gimmick--it reinforces the subtle cultural commentary offered by the book: a message leavened by the humor and delivered with the lightest of touches. This book is the full package. Ignore it at your own risk.