“I met Banville there on Saturday. After speaking fluidly on many interesting points, he announced that he is only truly interested in what is going on inside his head. That's in the vein of the Greek philosophers. But remember: if you go far enough up your own ass, you'll ram up against the skullcap. I caught him at the door after the speech. The guy signed the book without even asking who to inscribe it to, and I had to pry hard for what little conversation squeaked out of him. News is that he just finished the sequel to Christine Falls last week. Thanks, John, but I think I'll focus my attentions elsewhere. PS – Latest scores from the Booker Prize race: John Banville 1 – 0 Critical Mick.”Oooooh, get him. For similar wibblings of a bile-induced nature, get yourself over to Critical Mick’s place - you won’t regret it. Actually you will, and you won’t respect yourself in the morning either, but what’s a weekend without a few drunken fumblings after a bucket of ChateauNeuf de Pape, eh?
“Prose both scabrous and poetic.” – Publishers Weekly. “Proust meets Chandler over a pint of Guinness.” – Spectator. “A sheer pleasure.” – Tana French. “Among the most memorable books of the year, of any genre.” – Sunday Times. “A hardboiled delight.” – Guardian. “Imagine Donald Westlake and Richard Stark collaborating on a screwball noir.” – Kirkus Reviews. “A cross between Raymond Chandler and Flann O’Brien.” – John Banville. “The effortless cool of Elmore Leonard at his peak.” – Ray Banks. “A fine writer at the top of his game.” – Lee Child.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Uncle Travelling Critical Mick: No Street Too Mean, No Dick Too Private
Introducing the Literary Adventures of Uncle Travelling Critical Mick (right), an occasional series in which our favourite literary dilbertante accosts the great, the good and the atrociously mediocre. This Week: Mick meets Blandville …