Clowns go in and out of fashion. Sometimes they are twisted killers skipping sinisterly in the streets, other times they are brave and bold antiheroes who laugh in the face of normalcy and sing duets with Lady Gaga. Kristen Arnett’s Stop Me If You’ve Heard This One shows clowns in a somewhat less dramatic and flattering light: In these pages, clowns are losers. Cherry is a 28-year-old lesbian stoner working at an aquarium store, but her true passion is clowning. While Cherry seems like someone this reviewer would be friends with, middle-class central Floridian society feels differently about her. Even her stage persona, Bunko, a rodeo-aspiring goofball with a fear of horses, is a loser (in the best way). But as Cherry narrates her tragicomic life, the dullness of Orlando takes on a whimsical and erotically charged atmosphere where the butt of the joke is as callipygian as rich housewives.
Though her clowning might make her seem a bit strange, Cherry’s incorrigible horniness makes her as relatable as any non-clown main character. Stop Me If You’ve Heard This One opens with Cherry in a suburban bathroom, getting it on red nose-style with the mother of a birthday boy she just performed for. As things get steamy, Cherry plays into the mother’s clown fetish (don’t judge), pulling some tricks out of her sleeve. The two are quickly interrupted by an irate, door-busting husband, and Cherry has to flee the scene, leaving behind her tools of the trade. This initial assignation not only sets the tone for this comic romp, but also reveals Cherry’s weakness for MILFs. Enter Margot, an older lesbian magician who coolly and easily woos Cherry with her knowledge of performance, schooling her in the storied tradition of clowns and magicians. Margot has a lot more to offer Cherry than a chance to work through her mommy issues, as her industry connections give Cherry a tantalizing glimpse of success in entertainment. It seems like the perfect match, but Cherry’s baggage is as crammed as a clown car, and just as dangerous to unpack. As Cherry struggles to be a true artist and find love, Arnett’s prose perfectly blends the tragedy and humor of life, leaving readers alternately gut-punched with grief and bursting with laughter.
