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Byrne
Paperback. 176 Random House UK Completed shortly before Burgess's death. This novel in verse is extravagantly original. Byrne is Anthony Burgess's final an epic verse novel. Michael Byrne is a minor modern composer with greater talent in bed than in the concert hall. A bigamist. a charmer and a thug. Byrne sells his talents as a composer and painter. ending up in Hitler's Third Reich. He moves opportunistically from country to country and from bed to bed. leaving a small tribe of children across the globe. He then vanishes and the story passes to his children. including twin sons. one a doubting priest. the other sick of an incapacitating disease. who move across the troubled face of contemporary Europe before encountering their father in one final apocalyptic confrontation. illiantly readable. enormously funny and full of passion and energy. it is al...
176 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1995
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About the author
Anthony Burgess
360 books4,252 followersLibrarian Note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.
Seriocomic novels of noted British writer and critic Anthony Burgess, pen name of John Burgess Wilson, include the futuristic classic A Clockwork Orange (1962).
He composed also a librettos, poems, plays, screens, and essays and traveled, broadcast, translated, linguist and educationalist. He lived for long periods in southeastern Asia, the United States of America, and Europe along Mediterranean Sea as well as England. His fiction embraces the Malayan trilogy ( The Long Day Wanes ) on the dying days of empire in the east. The Enderby quartet concerns a poet and his muse. Nothing like the Sun re-creates love life of William Shakespeare. He explores the nature of evil with Earthly Powers , a panoramic saga of the 20th century. He published studies of James Joyce, Ernest Miller Hemingway, Shakespeare, and David Herbert Lawrence. He produced the treatises Language Made Plain and A Mouthful of Air . His journalism proliferated in several languages. He translated and adapted Cyrano de Bergerac , Oedipus the King , and Carmen for the stage. He scripted Jesus of Nazareth and Moses the Lawgiver for the screen. He invented the prehistoric language, spoken in Quest for Fire . He composed the Sinfoni Melayu , the Symphony (No. 3) in C , and the opera Blooms of Dublin .
Seriocomic novels of noted British writer and critic Anthony Burgess, pen name of John Burgess Wilson, include the futuristic classic A Clockwork Orange (1962).
He composed also a librettos, poems, plays, screens, and essays and traveled, broadcast, translated, linguist and educationalist. He lived for long periods in southeastern Asia, the United States of America, and Europe along Mediterranean Sea as well as England. His fiction embraces the Malayan trilogy ( The Long Day Wanes ) on the dying days of empire in the east. The Enderby quartet concerns a poet and his muse. Nothing like the Sun re-creates love life of William Shakespeare. He explores the nature of evil with Earthly Powers , a panoramic saga of the 20th century. He published studies of James Joyce, Ernest Miller Hemingway, Shakespeare, and David Herbert Lawrence. He produced the treatises Language Made Plain and A Mouthful of Air . His journalism proliferated in several languages. He translated and adapted Cyrano de Bergerac , Oedipus the King , and Carmen for the stage. He scripted Jesus of Nazareth and Moses the Lawgiver for the screen. He invented the prehistoric language, spoken in Quest for Fire . He composed the Sinfoni Melayu , the Symphony (No. 3) in C , and the opera Blooms of Dublin .
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Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews
April 12, 2013
A. Burgess and me agree that all art should aspire to the condition of music (we paraphraseth Walt Pater), both for the harmony of form and content, and the visceral impact music has on a listener’s nerve-endings, always stronger than responses to books or paintings or YooToob kittehs. More than any other novelist, Ant Burg spent his life inventing musical forms to contain his explosive, spontaneous creativity, whether in the musical play Blooms of Dublin, the orchestral novel Napoleon’s Symphony, or this swansong Byrne, a novel in verse. (He also recorded a musical version of A Clockwork Orange—don’t ask). Most critics and wine-swiggers are unanimous in their opinion that Anto Burge failed to musicalise the novel and create anything particularly innovative in the novel form (in terms of long-term usability), leaving behind a canon of daring experiments (i.e. failures) and almost masterpieces (i.e. not masterpieces). This novel in verse (in Byronian ottava rima stanzas) is full of the bawdiness of Chaucer and Rabelais, and far from revolutionising anything simply shines as another wacky entry in an eccentric and loopy bibliography of one the smartest, comb-fearing bruisers of 20thC lit. And for me, that’s enough.
November 22, 2018
A novel in verse? By the master wordsmith Anthony Burgess? This should be fun.
And fun it is, a bawdy, boisterous satire on an irreverent and irascible composer and amateur artist who tramps his way through the early 20th century, becomes an admirer and sycophant of the Third Reich and leaves behind a trail of illegitimate children out of his sleazy philandering exploits.
The language is deliciously witty, the ottava rima stanzas are brilliantly phrased and there are subtle layers of cynical humor when Burgess takes a jab at the titular' anti-hero's preferences to be on the side of the Nazis in World War II, as evidenced below:
'A heavy task, but there was light relief
In the Germanic ambience, boisterous, brash,
Torchlit parades and pogroms, guttural grief
In emigration queues, the smash and crash
Of pawnshop windows by insentient beef
In uniform, the gush of beer, the splash
Of schnapps, the joy of being drunk and Aryan,
Though Hitler was a teetotalitarian.'
The epic sweep of the first act of 'Byrne' takes one's breath away. Burgess lets his reader sweep over the surge of British talkies produced by Alexander Korda and then takes us to Hitler's Germany, where Goebbels is won over by Byrne's talent and where he proves willing to be a part of even the despicable acts committed by the Reich. The verses are packed with detail and brazen wit and it is all splendidly entertaining.
I wished that this part lasted even longer because what follows is a more or less humdrum narrative involving twin brothers Tom and Tim, both corrupt Catholic priests who are embroiled in some yarn of hokum of a fatwa against Dante. They come together when they learn that their father, Byrne himself, has returned after a lifetime of exile. The reader keeps on waiting for some eventful climax to the narrative, because that is what promised to us but what comes is a downer.
It is enlivened always with Burgess' typically fruity turns of phrase and his ready wit but while an argument can be made for its concise format and its slim length, a master storyteller like him could have done a lot even with less. Just read 'A Clockwork Orange' for evidence.
Maybe I need to revisit it to understand or appreciate its final part better. It has a lot of entertaining moments and the first act is pitch-perfect but I expected more from one of the devilishly intelligent wordsmiths of all time.
And fun it is, a bawdy, boisterous satire on an irreverent and irascible composer and amateur artist who tramps his way through the early 20th century, becomes an admirer and sycophant of the Third Reich and leaves behind a trail of illegitimate children out of his sleazy philandering exploits.
The language is deliciously witty, the ottava rima stanzas are brilliantly phrased and there are subtle layers of cynical humor when Burgess takes a jab at the titular' anti-hero's preferences to be on the side of the Nazis in World War II, as evidenced below:
'A heavy task, but there was light relief
In the Germanic ambience, boisterous, brash,
Torchlit parades and pogroms, guttural grief
In emigration queues, the smash and crash
Of pawnshop windows by insentient beef
In uniform, the gush of beer, the splash
Of schnapps, the joy of being drunk and Aryan,
Though Hitler was a teetotalitarian.'
The epic sweep of the first act of 'Byrne' takes one's breath away. Burgess lets his reader sweep over the surge of British talkies produced by Alexander Korda and then takes us to Hitler's Germany, where Goebbels is won over by Byrne's talent and where he proves willing to be a part of even the despicable acts committed by the Reich. The verses are packed with detail and brazen wit and it is all splendidly entertaining.
I wished that this part lasted even longer because what follows is a more or less humdrum narrative involving twin brothers Tom and Tim, both corrupt Catholic priests who are embroiled in some yarn of hokum of a fatwa against Dante. They come together when they learn that their father, Byrne himself, has returned after a lifetime of exile. The reader keeps on waiting for some eventful climax to the narrative, because that is what promised to us but what comes is a downer.
It is enlivened always with Burgess' typically fruity turns of phrase and his ready wit but while an argument can be made for its concise format and its slim length, a master storyteller like him could have done a lot even with less. Just read 'A Clockwork Orange' for evidence.
Maybe I need to revisit it to understand or appreciate its final part better. It has a lot of entertaining moments and the first act is pitch-perfect but I expected more from one of the devilishly intelligent wordsmiths of all time.
October 6, 2015
Posthumous verse in ottava rima,
The last work of Burgess, in Byronic ryhme.
Byrne is artist, composer, a roamer,
With penchant for animus smothered in slime.
Dubious polymath (just like the author)
Lives as a bigamist, Nazi(?), defiler.
A crude yet clever work, read in two hours.
It shared the same themes as Earthly Powers.
The last work of Burgess, in Byronic ryhme.
Byrne is artist, composer, a roamer,
With penchant for animus smothered in slime.
Dubious polymath (just like the author)
Lives as a bigamist, Nazi(?), defiler.
A crude yet clever work, read in two hours.
It shared the same themes as Earthly Powers.
May 25, 2018
What the fuck have I just read? Seriously. What the actual fuck is this novel? Is it even a novel? Is it a poem? Is it a 150 page song? The only thing I can say with any degree of certainty is that this, Bryne, is the weirdest 'thing' I have ever read - but in an incredibly way.
I have known Anthony Burgess for years - not personally of course. I have watched documentaries on him, saw him on television talking about Joyce and Shakespeare, discussed him endlessly. Christ, I have even written about him at length in my own fiction. However this - was the first 'novel' of his I have ever read. Yes, I've never read A Clockwork Orange - but it's on my ever lengthening list.
That being said, 'that' meaning this being my first endeavour into Burgess' fiction, I now believe I have to read essentially all of his earlier works before giving this a re-read. Clockwork Orange of course, just for the fucking sake of saying I've read it instead of being left red faced and embarrassed while some cunt who's read a fiftieth of what I've read begins to tell me about it and how I really should read it. I'll never forget that prick who started talking about Henry Miller before telling me 'yeah, you should probably read a bit more before trying Miller, he's pretty deep' despite the fact I'd read Miller thrice years before. Christ, now I sound like Partridge. Needless to say I had the last laugh.
BUT. What I'm trying to say is. Actually fuck it, I could say anything here, nobody ever reads my reviews on here anyhow. Okie kokie. Is that how you spell kokie? Or is it koky? or cokie? or coky? Hokey Cokey? Ohhhhh the okie kokie! Fuck knows. BUT! Yes. I need to read it all. Clockwork Orange, Enderby, Earthly Powers, Little Wilson. Read it all. And then read this again.
Burgess is a master. I knew that long ago. He is a genius. And this is without doubt a work of genius. But as of yet I cannot discuss it for I am not yet worthy.
It is his last work, so I believe, and it does read - especially towards the end - like his final Goodbye. His epitaph to the world. His parting gift.
And one final thing. For a short book, Byrne must without doubt include the most references to other authors than any other book of its size, besides that of an anthology of authors.
He mentions Harry’s bar, the Widening Gyre, Verona, Flaubert, Eliot, Dante, Death in Venice, Shelley, Byron, Joyce, Descartes, Gogol, a homage to Charles Dickens, Conrad, Wells, to name but a few from the top of my head.
And when he writes of sickness. Of the smokers cough and spitting blood, it is himself he is writing about. The dying Anthony Burgess who scrawled up these words as his last - seeking the eternal as all artists do.
I have known Anthony Burgess for years - not personally of course. I have watched documentaries on him, saw him on television talking about Joyce and Shakespeare, discussed him endlessly. Christ, I have even written about him at length in my own fiction. However this - was the first 'novel' of his I have ever read. Yes, I've never read A Clockwork Orange - but it's on my ever lengthening list.
That being said, 'that' meaning this being my first endeavour into Burgess' fiction, I now believe I have to read essentially all of his earlier works before giving this a re-read. Clockwork Orange of course, just for the fucking sake of saying I've read it instead of being left red faced and embarrassed while some cunt who's read a fiftieth of what I've read begins to tell me about it and how I really should read it. I'll never forget that prick who started talking about Henry Miller before telling me 'yeah, you should probably read a bit more before trying Miller, he's pretty deep' despite the fact I'd read Miller thrice years before. Christ, now I sound like Partridge. Needless to say I had the last laugh.
BUT. What I'm trying to say is. Actually fuck it, I could say anything here, nobody ever reads my reviews on here anyhow. Okie kokie. Is that how you spell kokie? Or is it koky? or cokie? or coky? Hokey Cokey? Ohhhhh the okie kokie! Fuck knows. BUT! Yes. I need to read it all. Clockwork Orange, Enderby, Earthly Powers, Little Wilson. Read it all. And then read this again.
Burgess is a master. I knew that long ago. He is a genius. And this is without doubt a work of genius. But as of yet I cannot discuss it for I am not yet worthy.
It is his last work, so I believe, and it does read - especially towards the end - like his final Goodbye. His epitaph to the world. His parting gift.
And one final thing. For a short book, Byrne must without doubt include the most references to other authors than any other book of its size, besides that of an anthology of authors.
He mentions Harry’s bar, the Widening Gyre, Verona, Flaubert, Eliot, Dante, Death in Venice, Shelley, Byron, Joyce, Descartes, Gogol, a homage to Charles Dickens, Conrad, Wells, to name but a few from the top of my head.
And when he writes of sickness. Of the smokers cough and spitting blood, it is himself he is writing about. The dying Anthony Burgess who scrawled up these words as his last - seeking the eternal as all artists do.
May 23, 2025
Really loved how the first part of this felt kind of like a lost Ken Russell script but I definitely lost interest when it shifted focus from Byrne to the twins. 2.5 stars rounded up to 3 for masterful use of the phrase "jerk the gherkin" in a verse novel.
April 7, 2018
I wish more writers had the courage to write books in verse.
October 5, 2024
so some parts—like little glimpses!—were sooo beautiful and had me drawing stars,marking the pages, etc., etc. then he fucks it up bad idk how to explain it other than saying beauty without substance..,just throwing buzzwords @me like ofc ill eat it but but we haveee to think critically ya know? almost milk and honey for the violently inclined. i also think i might just not love burgess in general i had the same thoughts abt clockwork orange as much as some parts go 💥💥💥💥…(also burroughs if im being honest maybe it’s an issue with b last names)
i’m in agreement w hunter—“””„Get your worthless ass out of the piazza and back to the typewriter. Your type is a dime a dozen around here, Burgess, and I’m fucked if I’m going to stand for it any longer.”
i’m in agreement w hunter—“””„Get your worthless ass out of the piazza and back to the typewriter. Your type is a dime a dozen around here, Burgess, and I’m fucked if I’m going to stand for it any longer.”
October 18, 2018
Something just happened, likely a story like a broken compass which has a mechanism underneath which is irrational to the probing eyes.
February 11, 2021
This is an incredibly fun book to read out loud, just about every page has some kind of genuinely funny, consciously convoluted rhyme.
Read
May 30, 2023The opening line of this drawer novel in verse found among Anthony Burgess’s papers after his death is “Somebody had to do it.” and well, agree to disagree. The is short, a little over a hundred pages, and the story involves the long life of an Irish poet who finds himself among all sorts of sorts in the 20th century as he bandies about his world. It’s kind of a novel in complain, and while I am no poetry expert, it feels quite artificial.
The novel has both Byrne through his life, and Burgess’s narrator through his narration trying to grapple with the place of narrative poetry in the modern world, referencing Byron and Shelly, Yeats and Keats, Pound, Eliot, and probably untold numbers of other British poets that I don’t know all that well. The writing is often clever, if the verse is quite strained, and the effect is what feels like one of those topical and timely books that comes out by and by usually by a well-known author (I really am thinking about Ian McEwan’s awful The Cockroach) that is playful and maybe a little funny and completely empty. The focus here seems to be the waning years of the 20th century. There’s a lot of complaint about where the UK finds itself in the eyes of the world and the eyes of itself reckoning its downturn from world leader to large influential nation. It’s a novel of the great humbling, but like I said, it’s written in verse and the verse is not great.
The novel has both Byrne through his life, and Burgess’s narrator through his narration trying to grapple with the place of narrative poetry in the modern world, referencing Byron and Shelly, Yeats and Keats, Pound, Eliot, and probably untold numbers of other British poets that I don’t know all that well. The writing is often clever, if the verse is quite strained, and the effect is what feels like one of those topical and timely books that comes out by and by usually by a well-known author (I really am thinking about Ian McEwan’s awful The Cockroach) that is playful and maybe a little funny and completely empty. The focus here seems to be the waning years of the 20th century. There’s a lot of complaint about where the UK finds itself in the eyes of the world and the eyes of itself reckoning its downturn from world leader to large influential nation. It’s a novel of the great humbling, but like I said, it’s written in verse and the verse is not great.
March 16, 2016
A worthwhile read if you want something a bit unusual and challenging.
Byrne is the story of an artist, fuelled by lust and vices, leaving a global trail of pregnant women and misery. And the whole thing is written in stanzas, which is pretty rare for "modern" authors. Having said that Burgess always seemed to push himself as a writer, essentially creating a new dialect (A Clockwork Orange) and combining separate sci-fi, and historic stories with a musical libretto in the one novel (End of the World News) for example.
I enjoyed the story, even though some of tye themes were similar to his early Earthly Powers. The style of writing was not the easiest to follow, so I would recommend this to people who like a challenge or who appreciate the lost literary arts.
Byrne is the story of an artist, fuelled by lust and vices, leaving a global trail of pregnant women and misery. And the whole thing is written in stanzas, which is pretty rare for "modern" authors. Having said that Burgess always seemed to push himself as a writer, essentially creating a new dialect (A Clockwork Orange) and combining separate sci-fi, and historic stories with a musical libretto in the one novel (End of the World News) for example.
I enjoyed the story, even though some of tye themes were similar to his early Earthly Powers. The style of writing was not the easiest to follow, so I would recommend this to people who like a challenge or who appreciate the lost literary arts.
May 31, 2016
8.4
Not really long or deep enough to really leave a lasting impression, but this is still a fine book and on par with Burgess' A Clockwork Orange. Burgess leaves this world proving his vast intelligence, his verbiage arguably surpasses that of Shakespeare.
Burgess isn't a great poet, but his prose-masked-by-stanza is legendary. The images he manages to evoke are truly lecherous, genuinely unbridled, completely encompassing the filth of humanity. On par with Bukowski in this regard.
A fine, short read; a good exit point for Burgess. Do not read this if you haven't read at least three Burgess novels.
Not really long or deep enough to really leave a lasting impression, but this is still a fine book and on par with Burgess' A Clockwork Orange. Burgess leaves this world proving his vast intelligence, his verbiage arguably surpasses that of Shakespeare.
Burgess isn't a great poet, but his prose-masked-by-stanza is legendary. The images he manages to evoke are truly lecherous, genuinely unbridled, completely encompassing the filth of humanity. On par with Bukowski in this regard.
A fine, short read; a good exit point for Burgess. Do not read this if you haven't read at least three Burgess novels.
September 24, 2016
Superb. One of the very few books I have read two-and-one-half times, the first time being in 1995.
Anthony Burgess enchanted me with his use and sometimes intentional misuse of ottava rima while telling an engaging story.
Anthony Burgess enchanted me with his use and sometimes intentional misuse of ottava rima while telling an engaging story.
August 7, 2009
stopped reading on page 40, did not like the content
April 5, 2015
Burgess does James Joyce. What's not to like?
Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews