The Impartial Recorder is an extraordinary book about ordinary people in a small town in the middle of nowhere. It may be the only funny book you will ever read about the weather. And the only novel that comes with its own handy index to help guide you straight to subjects such as "sushi, and Christian guilt," "adultery, brazened out" and "regretted bitterly," "snacks, between meals, inadvisability of," and the terrible "unfairness of having read Jeanette Winterson, and yet still having to work in an in-store bakery." The Impartial Recorder takes its name from the tirelessly gossip-oriented local paper that reports on nothing in particular and on everything that's too interesting to have made a more dignified newspaper of record. The story kicks off with the return of a prodigal son, Davey Quinn, who is struggling to hide the fact that he hasn't done quite as well in the big city as friends and family have been led to believe. But that's only the beginning. The Impartial Recorder goes on to celebrate the heroic energies and comic failures of plumbers and ministers of religion, sandwich entrepreneurs and housewives, short-order cooks and owners of lingerie shops. In the tradition of Garrison Keillor and Roddy Doyle, Ian Sansom has given us a brilliant and hopeful comedy; in his words, a "book of profound inconsequence, as beautiful and moving as, say, the sight of an elderly couple standing outside a greengrocer's, trying to choose a cauliflower."
Dry, subtle but hilarious sense of humour throughout -- I just loved this book. Reminds me of Stephen Leacock's small-town humour. I kept reading bit aloud to John so we could both laugh. Brilliant.
Just loved this book. Couldn't read more than a page or two before I'd be chortling and reading passages aloud, much to the disgruntlement of my husband. So fun to become acquainted with the town's inhabitants, and follow their lives as they earnestly followed their dreams. This was a GREAT read.
Maybe I just had too much of Ian Samson books but I couldn't stay with this one. I wanted to like it but I gave up on it after a while. Just too much of a good thing, I guess.
I think this book would have been more fun to read with someone else, chuckling together over the footnotes and trying to keep the cast of characters straight. It's like Lake Wobegone in northern Ireland, told by a townsman who appears to be an impartial observer, much like Garrison Keillor. The title comes from the name of the local newspaper, and the editor of that paper and the narrator agree that many of the changes that have taken place over the last 20 years have not been for the better: replacing of historic buildings with a ring road and roundabouts, a shopping mall, and chain stores. But a number of changes are happening now that could at least indicate a willingness on the parts of some people to broaden their thinking. Amusing.
Ah, life in small town, Anywhere, UK... where one guy has made it rich ripping up the quaint downtown and selling land at high profit to a brand-new mall on the outskirts. Where people drown their sorrows in the pub or the whirlpool at the new New Age spa. Where the idealistic newspaper editor settles for less muckraking, more gossip. Funny, somewhat acerbic, but never actually depressing or overly cynical. Like Sansom's first mobile library mystery (which he published after this book and in which he uses the same newspaper name, The Impartial Recorder), the characters are by turns sympathetic losers and heroes in their own minds. Many chuckles, some outright guffaws.
The most apt way to describe this book is if you imagine the British version of Lake Wobegon. It consists of interconnected stores (with meandering footnotes). And it's quite funny, with some of life's pathos thrown in for good measure. Just like in Lake Wobegon!