“Declan Burke is his own genre. The Lammisters dazzles, beguiles and transcends. Virtuoso from start to finish.” – Eoin McNamee “This bourbon-smooth riot of jazz-age excess, high satire and Wodehouse flamboyance is a pitch-perfect bullseye of comic brilliance.” – Irish Independent Books of the Year 2019 “This rapid-fire novel deserves a place on any bookshelf that grants asylum to PG Wodehouse, Flann O’Brien or Kyril Bonfiglioli.” – Eoin Colfer, Guardian Best Books of the Year 2019 “The funniest book of the year.” – Sunday Independent “Declan Burke is one funny bastard. The Lammisters ... conducts a forensic analysis on the anatomy of a story.” – Liz Nugent “Burke’s exuberant prose takes centre stage … He plays with language like a jazz soloist stretching the boundaries of musical theory.” – Totally Dublin “A mega-meta smorgasbord of inventive language ... linguistic verve not just on every page but every line.” – Irish Times “Above all, The Lammisters gives the impression of a writer enjoying himself. And so, dear reader, should you.” – Sunday Times “A triumph of absurdity, which burlesques the literary canon from Shakespeare, Pope and Austen to Flann O’Brien … The Lammisters is very clever indeed.” – The Guardian
Friday, November 19, 2010
The Digested Read: THE SLAP by Christos Tsiolkas
“No-no-no-no-no!” Young Hugo was a bludger. Got caught lbw, everyone saw it, he was out. But he wouldn’t let go the bat. “No-no-no-no-no!” he screamed. So Harry cracked him a right bloody rippah.
“That’s child abuse, mate!”
“Nah, it’s just a slap.”
“I’ll give you a slap.”
“Don’t tie me kangaroo down, mate.”
Hector threw a few more tinnies on the barbie.
So then, like, the cops got involved and Harry got arrested and a trial date was set and some people thought the kid deserved a slap and some people didn’t and some people said whether or not he deserved it wasn’t the point and some other people said the point was there was no point, and so on.
Meantime, Hector the Greek wasn’t happy married to Aisha the Indian and Harry was Hector’s brother, the bloody gallah, and Hugo’s parents were hippies, the flaming drongos, and Richie the student was coming out of the closet and isn’t Australia such a wonderfully rounded multicultural country when people aren’t slapping other people’s kids?
“Yeah but, right, see, if the hippies had slapped Hugo when they should have instead of smoking all those joss sticks, Harry wouldn’t have had to stick his billabong in, would he?”
“Hmmm, maybe you have a point.”
“Yes. Except the point is there isn’t any point, isn’t it?”
“I take your point.”
So, like, anyway, Hector’s father thinks Harry did the right thing, but he’s Greek, so what would he know? Besides, wouldn’t the world be a better place if Hector’s mother was nicer to Aisha? Hey, maybe then Hector wouldn’t have ended up screwing Aisha’s friend.
“I say slap ’em all, let God sort ’em out.”
“You may have a point there.”
“I’ll take that point and ram it up your wazoo, mate!”
“Touché, sir.”
So, like, anyway, multiculturalism: looks good on paper, but it ain’t worth a flaming XXXX if you can’t throw it on the barbie.
The End.
The Digested Read, in one line: “What’s that, Skip? A mouthy kid got slapped? Rippah!”
This article first appeared in the Evening Herald.
3 comments:
Great condensation of a piece of rubbish, which is a difficult thing to do .There isn't a noteworthy sentence in the ghastly book.
* guffaws in a most loud and thank heavens I'm alone and cat scaring way*
I so look forward to these, Dec, they're just fantastic.
Arlene
It got a lot of attention in Australia.
Everybody was discussing "The Slap" and it was considered quite shocking.
I found it limited, but, as you'll see from The Widgeting Hour, it helped interpret some real life experiences as I wandered round Melbourne of a day.
The Greek context is worth noting.
Melbourne has the second highest population of Greek speakers outside of Greece. I love listening to people chatting on the tram from Sydney road, as it links, if ever so vaguely, with my European home.
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