“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
Showing posts with label Charlie McCarthy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Charlie McCarthy. Show all posts
John Banville (right) recently unburdened himself to The Age’s Tom Adair, ruminating about the phenomenon that is Benny Blanco, aka Benjamin Black. Sample outtakes runneth thusly:
“Now, looking back I think the invention of Benjamin Black was John Banville’s ploy to find his way out of what was suspiciously like a rut. I took the pseudonym to indicate that the venture was not an elaborate, post-modernist, literary joke. It is straightforward. I simply discovered I had this facility for cheap fiction.”
“Yes, in a curious way, it’s something I can’t explain, I feel more estranged from the work of John Banville than from the novels of Benjamin Black. I’ve a certain pride in the Benjamin Black books. Those by Banville I hate and loathe and they embarrass me. They stand there, like a set of awful, unforgiven sins.”
So who sells better? “I couldn't tell you,” he says. “I don’t ask. It’s like asking your bank manager about your bank balance. It’s always a shock — or a disappointment.” Then he relents: “Black, in paperback I’d reckon, outsells Banville. But then, THE SEA — because of the Booker win — sold superbly. My great ambition,” he adds, “is for Black to win the Booker and later on to pick up the Nobel.”
Said with tongue, no doubt, very firmly wedged in cheek. The vid below is taken from the end of the excellent documentary screened on RTE recently, Being John Banville, which was directed by Charlie McCarthy for Ice Box Films, in which Benny may or may not have inadvertently hit the why-writers-write nail squarely on the head …
Ice Box Films turned in an excellent documentary on RTE during the week, the subject being Benny Blanco from the Bronx, aka Benjamin Black, aka John Banville. Produced by Clíona Ní Bhuachalla and directed by Charlie McCarthy, ‘Being John Banville’ was one of those rare pleasures, unafraid to present one man talking about writing unadorned by gimcrack editing or flash-whizz-bang pyrotechnics to jazz things up. The vid has Banville rubbishing the first draft of THE SILVER SWAN, dissing Benny B and explaining his metamorphosis into a potentially soul-destroying popular genre writer, complete with – oh yes! – that all-important Mephistophelian reference. If you’re good, we’ll bring you some more next week …
John Banville (right) recently unburdened himself to The Age’s Tom Adair, ruminating about the phenomenon that is Benny Blanco, aka Benjamin Black. Sample outtakes runneth thusly: 
