Proving that the spirits of James Joyce, Flann O'Brien, and Samuel Beckett still flow in the veins of at least one Irish writer, Roger Boylan has composed a novel filled with hilarity and doom about the inhabitants of the Irish town of Milo Rogers, a headwaiter and would-be poet with a bit of a drinking problem and a bit of a sexual one; Kathy Hickman, a writer for the woman's fashion magazine Glam, as well as a former pin-up girl; Wolfetone Grey, who reads books only by or about God, and who also makes anonymous phone calls through-out the town in order to make people believe, among other things, that they have just won the lottery; and a host of other peculiar folks, all suffering from and tortured by problems with God, sex, the drink, and of course Ireland. Accompanying all of this is a nameless figure who bursts on the scene in the form of acerbic, opinionated, hilarious footnotes that rudely comment upon the characters and numerous other subjects.
here & there the main narrative verges alarmingly on Garrison Keillor Does Ireland, but the footnotes are uniformly a real treat, some grade-a piss-taking kinda reminiscent of the endnotes after each section of gilbert sorrentino's little casino only more freewheeling. def gonna give the sequel a whirl, pity about the 3rd of the trilogy being available only in german (?!)
Not terrible, but not really that good either. I was drawn in by the Flann O'Brien comparison on the back cover blurb. Too bad that Boylan just tries waaaay too hard to be funny, even aping Flann's wacky footnote trope which is less effective in Boylan's work and less funny and just distracting. The novel is about an assortment of interlinked characters living in a little Irish town. A few of them are amusing, others aren't particularly captivating, and the whole affair is bogged-down by the thick jokes in every line. A wearying read.
all that makes the shitty drink soaked life worth living, seeing others in the same plight, and having just as a hard a time of it, and laughs to boot. first book i have re-read in a long time. it made me feel better to read it. even the 'happy' ending in sunny italy.
Pretty good, but not great. The characters are engaging (even or especially the scoundrels, Grey and Maher) but the story is thin, and the comical footnotes weren't funny or interesting enough to justify the frequent interruptions. Comparisons of Boylan to Joyce, Beckett, F. O'Brien et al. are a bit much.
Mildly amusing. Half the story was told through footnotes. It became annoying to constantly be interrupted to catch the multitude of footnotes and did nothing for the flow of the book. The asides were not as funny as I'm sure they were intended to be.