Joshua Ferris' "Then We Came to the End"

The novel Then We Came to the End by Joshua Ferris starts like this:

We were fractious and overpaid. Our mornings lacked promise. At least those of us who smoked had something to look forward to at ten-fifteen. Most of us liked most everyone, a few of us hated specific individuals, one or two people loved everyone and everything. Those who loved everyone were unanimously reviled.

It's snappy, snarky, and smart throughout.

The book's narrator is a collective "we" who hope and mope and cope together amid waves of layoffs. Ferris' adroit use of this narrative device is half the attraction of the book.

Word spread fast that Tom had been laid off and naturally Benny was the guy to go down there. He said Tom was pacing in his office like a man recently jailed. He said he could picture what Tom had looked like the night he went to the Naperville house with the aluminum bat and the authorities had to restrain him. We had never heard that story before. Right there and then we had to stop Benny from telling us the story of Tom's final hour so he could first tell us the story of the aluminum bat. Benny was shocked we had never heard that story; he was sure we had. No, we never had. "Get out of here," he said. "You've heard that story." No, we hadn't. This is always how conversations went.

Ferris obligingly provides the standard repertoire of office hijinks, like the furtive scramble for a departed co-worker's chair. In this respect, you get Dilbert by Tom Wolfe.

However, instead of fun and games, most of the time it's futility and games—amusement while waiting for the ax to fall. This dark undercurrent often cuts to the surface as characters face their shortcomings, their mortality, and various other challenges beyond losing their jobs. If you know the author Don DeLillo, whom Ferris references in the acknowledgments, think of DeLillo interpreting the TV show The Office.

Chapter 1 is online. It's indicative of what you're in for, so try before you buy.