There was a time when Camberwell was best known for
its infamous carrot (see below), its intoxicating powers demonstrated to best effect in WITHNAIL AND I. But no more! For lo,
Crime Scraps, run by the mysteriously monikered Uriah Robinson, operates out of the mean streets of Camberwell, a place where the metaphorical stick is more popular a motivational tool than the equally metaphorical carrot, sadly. Anyhoo, Uriah had himself a read of our humble offering
THE BIG O over the Christmas, and was kind enough to post his thoughts, to wit:
“This book is a blunt, rude, crude, politically incorrect, raucous, rumbustious, rollicking, romp of a crime caper novel. The characters are larger than life and the action is convoluted and non-stop … THE BIG O is a loveable rogue of a novel and while it is not literature you will have a lot more fun reading it than some labyrinthine incomprehensible Booker prize winner.”
Hmmm. T’would appear Uriah has tumbled to our cunning plan to reverse the John Banville / Benny Blanco strategy, which is to write a half-decent crime caper first,
then the incomprehensibly labyrinthine Booker winner, preferably while mashed off our collective bins. Zounds! Foiled again …
There was a time when Camberwell was best known for its infamous carrot (see below), its intoxicating powers demonstrated to best effect in WITHNAIL AND I. But no more! For lo, Crime Scraps, run by the mysteriously monikered Uriah Robinson, operates out of the mean streets of Camberwell, a place where the metaphorical stick is more popular a motivational tool than the equally metaphorical carrot, sadly. Anyhoo, Uriah had himself a read of our humble offering THE BIG O over the Christmas, and was kind enough to post his thoughts, to wit: 
Hmmm. T’would appear Uriah has tumbled to our cunning plan to reverse the John Banville / Benny Blanco strategy, which is to write a half-decent crime caper first, then the incomprehensibly labyrinthine Booker winner, preferably while mashed off our collective bins. Zounds! Foiled again …
1 comment:
Thanks for the mention, Dec.
Actually I moved from South London in 1963, but I took my first steps on Camberwell Green, so that entitles me to claim permanent status as a Camberwellian.
There were no meaner streets than the Camberwell of my childhood, and I still bear the physical scars.
Living on the Camberwell Road was good Rugby training as it improved your acceleration away from trouble.
I now live in Exeter, but even here we have a growing crime problem, and now I am almost too old to run away.
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