What do you think?
Rate this book
Jimmy Rabbitte #2
The Guts
A triumphant return to the characters of Booker Prize-winning writer Roddy Doyle's breakout first novel, The Commitments, now older, wiser, up against cancer and midlife.
Jimmy Rabbitte is back. The man who invented the Commitments back in the 1980s is now 47, with a loving wife, 4 kids...and bowel cancer. He isn't dying, he thinks, but he might be.
Jimmy still loves his music, and he still loves to hustle--his new thing is finding old bands and then finding the people who loved them enough to pay money online for their resurrected singles and albums. On his path through Dublin, between chemo and work he meets two of the Commitments--Outspan Foster, whose own illness is probably terminal, and Imelda Quirk, still as gorgeous as ever. He is reunited with his long-lost brother, Les, and learns to play the trumpet....
This warm, funny novel is about friendship and family, about facing death and opting for life. It climaxes in one of the great passages in Roddy Doyle's fiction: 4 middle-aged men at Ireland's hottest rock festival watching Jimmy's son's band, Moanin' at Midnight, pretending to be Bulgarian and playing a song called "I'm Goin' to Hell" that apparently hasn't been heard since 1932.... Why? You'll have to read The Guts to find out.
Jimmy Rabbitte is back. The man who invented the Commitments back in the 1980s is now 47, with a loving wife, 4 kids...and bowel cancer. He isn't dying, he thinks, but he might be.
Jimmy still loves his music, and he still loves to hustle--his new thing is finding old bands and then finding the people who loved them enough to pay money online for their resurrected singles and albums. On his path through Dublin, between chemo and work he meets two of the Commitments--Outspan Foster, whose own illness is probably terminal, and Imelda Quirk, still as gorgeous as ever. He is reunited with his long-lost brother, Les, and learns to play the trumpet....
This warm, funny novel is about friendship and family, about facing death and opting for life. It climaxes in one of the great passages in Roddy Doyle's fiction: 4 middle-aged men at Ireland's hottest rock festival watching Jimmy's son's band, Moanin' at Midnight, pretending to be Bulgarian and playing a song called "I'm Goin' to Hell" that apparently hasn't been heard since 1932.... Why? You'll have to read The Guts to find out.
336 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2013
86 people are currently reading
1980 people want to read
About the author
Roddy Doyle
127 books1,646 followersRoddy Doyle (Irish: Ruaidhrí Ó Dúill) is an Irish novelist, dramatist and screenwriter. Several of his books have been made into successful films, beginning with The Commitments in 1991. He won the Booker Prize in 1993.
Doyle grew up in Kilbarrack, Dublin. He graduated with a Bachelor of Arts from University College, Dublin. He spent several years as an English and geography teacher before becoming a full-time writer in 1993.
Doyle grew up in Kilbarrack, Dublin. He graduated with a Bachelor of Arts from University College, Dublin. He spent several years as an English and geography teacher before becoming a full-time writer in 1993.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 490 reviews
August 10, 2016
Outstanding, joyful read for me about a middle-aged Dubliner negotiating the challenges of colon cancer while taking chances with his music revival business. Jimmie Rabbitte returns decades after his roles in Doyle’s “Barrytown Trilogy” (1987-1991).
Again Doyle is the master of dialogue and a special understated deadpan humor mixed with slapstick. But how can a story about someone facing cancer be funny? Somehow Jimmie’s ability to scramble and even dance on the thin ice of his life is so poignantly sincere, laugher is the best way to root for him without crying to. For example, here is his disclosure to his father in the first pages:
--…How’s Ma?
--Grand. Are yeh having another?
--No, said Jimmie. --I’m driving.
--I have cancer
--Good man.
--I’m being serious, Da.
--I know…
--Jesus, son.
--Yeah.
--Wha’ kind?
--Bowel
--Bad.
--Could be worse.
--Could it?
--So they say, said Jimmy.
--They?
--The doctors an’ tha’. The specialists. The team.
--The team?
--Yep.
--What colour are their jerseys?
Jimmie couldn’t think of an answer. …
--Fuck the drivin’. Have a pint.
Jimmie is so embedded in his large family (e.g. wife, mother, 23 total in his extended clan), just spending days telling them all keeps him so preoccupied at first, he can almost believe his front that he is “grand” and that he can fight it successfully. But at times, such as here in the parking lot at work, his façade crumbles a bit:
He couldn’t get out of the car. He couldn’t move.
…He never understood static electricity. This was the same as static….
He’d touch something, the wrong thing, and he’d die. That was how he’d start, if he was trying to explain it. But, actually, he didn’t have to touch anything. That was what paralysed him. Earlier, in bed, he woke up thinking he’s died. He was waking into his last thought. If he woke up properly, he’d be gone; he’d never have existed.
It would go away. He just had to wait.
Terror. That was it.
He’d be grand. The dread will be gone –it was going; he knew it was nothing. He’d just wait another minute.
He’d be angry then. He had the routine. He’d get rid of that too. He’d slam the door, fire off an email—reply to some fuckin’ eejit and have to apologize later.
Fuck it.
Fuck it.
Soon enough Jimmie is invigorated by some creative and cockeyed schemes to get his juices flowing and to head off bankruptcy with his business. He has been making a living through internet music sales. He ferrets out locally developed music from decades past and does what he can to revive interest in it. Starting with Celtic punk, he will dig up old recordings, track down old band members and engage them to submit them or new recordings for sale, and then promote sales by producing local performances. For example, he has just discovered a husband and wife who once performed as the Halfbreds and had a raucous song he finds “savage” (his highest accolade). His one attempt at a recording with rented studio time ends up with them having a physical fight. Using the song as is, fight included, only adds to its success at sales. Another scheme is to make hay with an upcoming worldwide gathering of church officials, a Papal Encyclical, by making an album of songs from the time of the last such gathering in Dublin, 1932 But he has such trouble finding a key song that is sexy enough to sell, he gets the brilliant idea of making one up with the help of his talented children.
Throughout this tale, Jimmie is living in total connection with family, friends, and business contacts through the new media-- smart phones, email, iPods, the whole nine yards. But Jimmie hasn’t really changed, and it’s like father, like son, like father. His scheme of making a go of a soul band featured in “The Commitments” gave way to his father’s to succeed with a chip van in “The Van”, and now we circle band to a new outrageous approach to surviving a new recession and way not to “go gentle into that good night.” Toward the end of the book, the whole stew of his get-rich schemes reach a wonderful crescendo with a big musical festival, where three of his bands have a venue. All your imaginings about the joys and miseries of camping out for a festival are outrageously brought to life through Jimmie and his other middle-aged buddies taking it on. Jimmie attends with an estranged brother he hasn’t seen in decades and a childhood buddy, Outspan, who was the drummer in “The Commitments” and now is on his last legs with lung cancer.
Doyle obviously loves his characters, and the whole crew were vibrantly alive for me. Jimmie’s father, his wife, his kids, and his buddies are all wonderfully drawn in this zoo full of life. For old time’s sake, Imelda, a back-up singer with “The Commitments”, makes the scene to fan the flames of his rusty old lusts. When asked in a PBS interview how it was he could make a comedy about a man struggling with cancer, Doyle explained how it was a way in his family to use humor to disarm tragedy: .
When you laugh it’s a way of confronting it. It’s, I think, one way of confronting it—when you laugh at things, you’re not evading them, you’re running headlong into them. And even these days with texting, something awful happens. The first thing that arrives by text is a joke. It could be perceived as cruel, but it is, I think, a way of coping. And, yeah, in the book--I hope it’s not tasteless.
This book was provided by the publisher through the Goordreads Giveaway program.
Again Doyle is the master of dialogue and a special understated deadpan humor mixed with slapstick. But how can a story about someone facing cancer be funny? Somehow Jimmie’s ability to scramble and even dance on the thin ice of his life is so poignantly sincere, laugher is the best way to root for him without crying to. For example, here is his disclosure to his father in the first pages:
--…How’s Ma?
--Grand. Are yeh having another?
--No, said Jimmie. --I’m driving.
--I have cancer
--Good man.
--I’m being serious, Da.
--I know…
--Jesus, son.
--Yeah.
--Wha’ kind?
--Bowel
--Bad.
--Could be worse.
--Could it?
--So they say, said Jimmy.
--They?
--The doctors an’ tha’. The specialists. The team.
--The team?
--Yep.
--What colour are their jerseys?
Jimmie couldn’t think of an answer. …
--Fuck the drivin’. Have a pint.
Jimmie is so embedded in his large family (e.g. wife, mother, 23 total in his extended clan), just spending days telling them all keeps him so preoccupied at first, he can almost believe his front that he is “grand” and that he can fight it successfully. But at times, such as here in the parking lot at work, his façade crumbles a bit:
He couldn’t get out of the car. He couldn’t move.
…He never understood static electricity. This was the same as static….
He’d touch something, the wrong thing, and he’d die. That was how he’d start, if he was trying to explain it. But, actually, he didn’t have to touch anything. That was what paralysed him. Earlier, in bed, he woke up thinking he’s died. He was waking into his last thought. If he woke up properly, he’d be gone; he’d never have existed.
It would go away. He just had to wait.
Terror. That was it.
He’d be grand. The dread will be gone –it was going; he knew it was nothing. He’d just wait another minute.
He’d be angry then. He had the routine. He’d get rid of that too. He’d slam the door, fire off an email—reply to some fuckin’ eejit and have to apologize later.
Fuck it.
Fuck it.
Soon enough Jimmie is invigorated by some creative and cockeyed schemes to get his juices flowing and to head off bankruptcy with his business. He has been making a living through internet music sales. He ferrets out locally developed music from decades past and does what he can to revive interest in it. Starting with Celtic punk, he will dig up old recordings, track down old band members and engage them to submit them or new recordings for sale, and then promote sales by producing local performances. For example, he has just discovered a husband and wife who once performed as the Halfbreds and had a raucous song he finds “savage” (his highest accolade). His one attempt at a recording with rented studio time ends up with them having a physical fight. Using the song as is, fight included, only adds to its success at sales. Another scheme is to make hay with an upcoming worldwide gathering of church officials, a Papal Encyclical, by making an album of songs from the time of the last such gathering in Dublin, 1932 But he has such trouble finding a key song that is sexy enough to sell, he gets the brilliant idea of making one up with the help of his talented children.
Throughout this tale, Jimmie is living in total connection with family, friends, and business contacts through the new media-- smart phones, email, iPods, the whole nine yards. But Jimmie hasn’t really changed, and it’s like father, like son, like father. His scheme of making a go of a soul band featured in “The Commitments” gave way to his father’s to succeed with a chip van in “The Van”, and now we circle band to a new outrageous approach to surviving a new recession and way not to “go gentle into that good night.” Toward the end of the book, the whole stew of his get-rich schemes reach a wonderful crescendo with a big musical festival, where three of his bands have a venue. All your imaginings about the joys and miseries of camping out for a festival are outrageously brought to life through Jimmie and his other middle-aged buddies taking it on. Jimmie attends with an estranged brother he hasn’t seen in decades and a childhood buddy, Outspan, who was the drummer in “The Commitments” and now is on his last legs with lung cancer.
Doyle obviously loves his characters, and the whole crew were vibrantly alive for me. Jimmie’s father, his wife, his kids, and his buddies are all wonderfully drawn in this zoo full of life. For old time’s sake, Imelda, a back-up singer with “The Commitments”, makes the scene to fan the flames of his rusty old lusts. When asked in a PBS interview how it was he could make a comedy about a man struggling with cancer, Doyle explained how it was a way in his family to use humor to disarm tragedy: .
When you laugh it’s a way of confronting it. It’s, I think, one way of confronting it—when you laugh at things, you’re not evading them, you’re running headlong into them. And even these days with texting, something awful happens. The first thing that arrives by text is a joke. It could be perceived as cruel, but it is, I think, a way of coping. And, yeah, in the book--I hope it’s not tasteless.
This book was provided by the publisher through the Goordreads Giveaway program.
April 29, 2020
Jimmy Rabbitte, Jr., manager of The Commitments many long years ago, is back and he has bowel cancer.
If this sounds depressing, don't worry; it's not. While we certainly go through some rather extreme ups and downs with Jimmy in this book, I can assure you, it's worth the journey and not, in the long wrong, depressing at all.
In fact, I found this book to be an absolute delight. Genuinely oh-my-god-I-can't-breathe funny and moving and joyful. In fact, the ending, without wanting to give too much away, is one of the most euphoric experiences I've had reading in my many years of book addiction.
HIGHLY RECOMMENDED (but start with the first book in the series; they're all a delight).
If this sounds depressing, don't worry; it's not. While we certainly go through some rather extreme ups and downs with Jimmy in this book, I can assure you, it's worth the journey and not, in the long wrong, depressing at all.
In fact, I found this book to be an absolute delight. Genuinely oh-my-god-I-can't-breathe funny and moving and joyful. In fact, the ending, without wanting to give too much away, is one of the most euphoric experiences I've had reading in my many years of book addiction.
HIGHLY RECOMMENDED (but start with the first book in the series; they're all a delight).
June 28, 2013
This is stonkingly good - I think I woke the neighbours this morning, I was laughing that hard. Jimmy Rabbitte (jnr) is now 47, happily married with kids, and has just been diagnosed with bowel cancer - then bumps into the still gorgeous Imelda Quirke from their days in The Committments, fadó fadó...Snort inducingly funny, heartbreakingly sad, and as grittily real as a shopping trolley in the canal, this is brilliant. Jimmy is still involved in the music scene, hence here is one of the best descriptions of an aging Celtic rock band I've seen: 'Five men, four ponytails. Three leather waistcoats.'
Read it - nuff said.
Read it - nuff said.
April 20, 2015
It took me until last year to read the three books that became the Barrytown Trilogy and made Roddy Doyle's name, of which the first, 'The Commitments' immortalised the name of Jimmy Rabbitte Jr, then the manager of the band, now in this novel, a 47 year old with a family, still involved in the music business, just diagnosed with bowel cancer. I loved those books, and this is a worthy follow up.
In the latest boo, we follow Jimmy's journey through his treatment, both physically and mentally, but at the same time enjoy the same rich and witty dialogue typical of the Barrytown books. Jimmy Sr, my favourite character from the original novels gets a few walk on parts, and is in good form as always, and Jimmy Jr's family are reminiscent of he and his own siblings, if a little less rough round the edges.
Jimmy struggles with his condition at times, wrestles with monogamy, has a number of 'foot in mouth' moments, but still has a love for music and hustling that leads to a trip to Electric Picnic, the music festival, to see his son, pretending to be Bulgarian, play a recently penned Irish folk song supposedly not heard since 1932...
I loved this novel for its humour, its poignancy and its sharp observation of everyday Irish life after the crash. While the likes of Donal Ryan paints a bleak picture of Ireland in this climate very effectively, Doyle uses his usual wit, but still manages to show the adverse change the economic downturn had on the country. The book, like its predecessors is fast paced, thanks to the dialogue heavy narrative, and I was left hoping that we get to see yet more of the Rabbitte clan in future.
Highly entertaining and enjoyable!
In the latest boo, we follow Jimmy's journey through his treatment, both physically and mentally, but at the same time enjoy the same rich and witty dialogue typical of the Barrytown books. Jimmy Sr, my favourite character from the original novels gets a few walk on parts, and is in good form as always, and Jimmy Jr's family are reminiscent of he and his own siblings, if a little less rough round the edges.
Jimmy struggles with his condition at times, wrestles with monogamy, has a number of 'foot in mouth' moments, but still has a love for music and hustling that leads to a trip to Electric Picnic, the music festival, to see his son, pretending to be Bulgarian, play a recently penned Irish folk song supposedly not heard since 1932...
I loved this novel for its humour, its poignancy and its sharp observation of everyday Irish life after the crash. While the likes of Donal Ryan paints a bleak picture of Ireland in this climate very effectively, Doyle uses his usual wit, but still manages to show the adverse change the economic downturn had on the country. The book, like its predecessors is fast paced, thanks to the dialogue heavy narrative, and I was left hoping that we get to see yet more of the Rabbitte clan in future.
Highly entertaining and enjoyable!
March 21, 2016
This is a wonderful book. Funny, sad, warm, tragic, profane. It had me laughing out loud on the train, and there were also a couple of moments when I welled up too.
Jimmy Rabbitte has stomach cancer. He is dying. But then we are all dying (I know, a bundle of laughs so far). This shows how he and his family cope with it - there are many tears but lots and lots of laughter.
No-one writes dialogue like Roddy Doyle. Bouyant, life affirming prose on every single page.
Do read this book.
Parental guidance - there is a f**k of a lot of swearing in this book
Jimmy Rabbitte has stomach cancer. He is dying. But then we are all dying (I know, a bundle of laughs so far). This shows how he and his family cope with it - there are many tears but lots and lots of laughter.
No-one writes dialogue like Roddy Doyle. Bouyant, life affirming prose on every single page.
Do read this book.
Parental guidance - there is a f**k of a lot of swearing in this book
June 5, 2022
Jimmy Rabbitte, the enterprising, young music aficionados from Roddy Doyle’s first novel, The Commitments, is back. He’s now forty-seven, married with kids and bowl cancer. Great set-up for a comic novel, eh? But seriously, The Guts is a funny book. Like the Commitments it’s dialogue driven, heavy on Dublin slang, and moves at a frenetic pace.
Jimmy is grand, just ask him. Everything’s grand, he’ll tell you. Humor and wit become weapons to fight off the fear of the cancer in his guts, and tools to keep his music business afloat in a recession. But he has to learn to lay these aside to connect with his family as they too struggle with the fear of losing him.
The Guts is warm hearted without being maudlin or sentimental. Its story of aging and facing its complications while face to face with one’s own mortality is softened by its humor, but still packs a bite. As Jimmy would say, this book is grand!
Jimmy is grand, just ask him. Everything’s grand, he’ll tell you. Humor and wit become weapons to fight off the fear of the cancer in his guts, and tools to keep his music business afloat in a recession. But he has to learn to lay these aside to connect with his family as they too struggle with the fear of losing him.
The Guts is warm hearted without being maudlin or sentimental. Its story of aging and facing its complications while face to face with one’s own mortality is softened by its humor, but still packs a bite. As Jimmy would say, this book is grand!
March 28, 2014
Whew! I finished my Roddy Doyle 4-book marathon with this one, although I will definitely be back to read more of his work in the near future. My review is a little long, so I apologize in advance.
I knew going into this novel that the main character here has been diagnosed with bowel cancer, and I wondered how in the heck the author was going to make something funny out of something so normally depressing. I knew it had to be -- in the first three Barrytown novels (The Commitments, The Snapper and The Van), he managed to create often laugh-out-loud humor around some pretty downbeat topics, so I took it for granted that the trend would continue in The Guts. I was right -- it does, although perhaps not on as big of a scale as the other three. At the same time, it's not only the humor that attracts me to Roddy Doyle -- it's also his ongoing themes of family, friendship and most especially fatherhood, as well as how his characters fare when they run up against some of life's biggest stumbling blocks. In The Guts, the author also writes about nostalgia -- which is "always big in a recession."
Jimmy Rabbitte Jr. of The Commitments is back again, now middle-aged at 47. He's married to Aoife and they have four children. He'd been working as a car salesman, but had hated it and had quit ahead of the recession some "eighteen months later when people stopped buying cars." The economy is bad, and Jimmy's traded selling cars for selling old bands. To make ends meet and to give in to his passion for music, he and Aoife had started an online business, Kelticpunc.com, reuniting, promoting and selling punk bands of yesteryear, "Like Itunes...But boutique. More personal. Welcomin'. Not just buy or fuck off." He finds the old bands, and also finds fans with money to pay for their music." At some point, when they noticed that their sales had been slowing to nothing, "before the recession, the crunch, the collapse" they sold three-quarters of the business, allowing them to at least pay off their mortgage. And now Jimmy's been diagnosed with cancer. Although he spends time pondering what's next in store for him, he is not one to sit idle and be morose -- it's music and family that's always driven him and it is those same two factors that help keep him going now. His latest venture is putting together an album of music from 1932 to coincide with the Eucharistic Congress that will be held in Dublin for the first time since then, and it's rumored that the pope might even be there. As he says, "People will cryin' for it, remeberin' their parents and grannies talkin' about it."
While one storyline follows Jimmy's cancer treatments and his off-again/on-again gloom about mortality which have totally shaken him, there are others that make it not nearly as depressing as I thought it might be. The chances are high that he'll survive the disease, but surviving the ups and downs of every-day life and the recession might be a different story. Aside from cancer, this novel is also filled with the kinds of things that anyone might experience in midlife -- loss of income, losing a home to the bank, the temptations of an extramarital affair, the realization that we're more like our parents than we know, or in general wondering where the old dreams of the past have gone. Yet, I think in this last item is where the book is most meaningful, at least for me -- some of our big dreams may be gone, but by keeping our passions alive, we inspire the love of them in others, and it brings us great joy to see them come alive especially in the people we love most. This becomes very obvious toward the end of the novel, but I won't say how.
In Mr. Doyle's hands, the comedic edge of these serious issues makes the reading a lot less painful, and actually funny. I mean, where else would you laugh at the mention of a pair of purple velour sweats that are called cancer pants? Or lyrics to a song called "Erectional Dysfunction?" And I loved The Electric Picnic -- that whole scene just crackled. In fact, I had a very good time with this book, although I must say that to me, the energy level of this one was a bit lower than the previous three Rabbitte family novels and some of the situations seemed forced, while some felt underdeveloped. However, aside from the funny moments, what I really liked about this book and the others I've read is that while the author employs humor to take the edge off the serious things, he never lets his readers lose sight of the fact that life can be downright tough. I've also become fond of the Rabbitte family, who over the last couple of decades have experienced one crisis after another, getting through them with wit, wisdom, love and practicality. The same applies here.
I can without any qualms recommend this book -- you'll get so much more out of it by reading the first three Barrytown novels but it's certainly not a problem if you don't. I'll most definitely be returning to Roddy Doyle in the very near future.
I knew going into this novel that the main character here has been diagnosed with bowel cancer, and I wondered how in the heck the author was going to make something funny out of something so normally depressing. I knew it had to be -- in the first three Barrytown novels (The Commitments, The Snapper and The Van), he managed to create often laugh-out-loud humor around some pretty downbeat topics, so I took it for granted that the trend would continue in The Guts. I was right -- it does, although perhaps not on as big of a scale as the other three. At the same time, it's not only the humor that attracts me to Roddy Doyle -- it's also his ongoing themes of family, friendship and most especially fatherhood, as well as how his characters fare when they run up against some of life's biggest stumbling blocks. In The Guts, the author also writes about nostalgia -- which is "always big in a recession."
Jimmy Rabbitte Jr. of The Commitments is back again, now middle-aged at 47. He's married to Aoife and they have four children. He'd been working as a car salesman, but had hated it and had quit ahead of the recession some "eighteen months later when people stopped buying cars." The economy is bad, and Jimmy's traded selling cars for selling old bands. To make ends meet and to give in to his passion for music, he and Aoife had started an online business, Kelticpunc.com, reuniting, promoting and selling punk bands of yesteryear, "Like Itunes...But boutique. More personal. Welcomin'. Not just buy or fuck off." He finds the old bands, and also finds fans with money to pay for their music." At some point, when they noticed that their sales had been slowing to nothing, "before the recession, the crunch, the collapse" they sold three-quarters of the business, allowing them to at least pay off their mortgage. And now Jimmy's been diagnosed with cancer. Although he spends time pondering what's next in store for him, he is not one to sit idle and be morose -- it's music and family that's always driven him and it is those same two factors that help keep him going now. His latest venture is putting together an album of music from 1932 to coincide with the Eucharistic Congress that will be held in Dublin for the first time since then, and it's rumored that the pope might even be there. As he says, "People will cryin' for it, remeberin' their parents and grannies talkin' about it."
While one storyline follows Jimmy's cancer treatments and his off-again/on-again gloom about mortality which have totally shaken him, there are others that make it not nearly as depressing as I thought it might be. The chances are high that he'll survive the disease, but surviving the ups and downs of every-day life and the recession might be a different story. Aside from cancer, this novel is also filled with the kinds of things that anyone might experience in midlife -- loss of income, losing a home to the bank, the temptations of an extramarital affair, the realization that we're more like our parents than we know, or in general wondering where the old dreams of the past have gone. Yet, I think in this last item is where the book is most meaningful, at least for me -- some of our big dreams may be gone, but by keeping our passions alive, we inspire the love of them in others, and it brings us great joy to see them come alive especially in the people we love most. This becomes very obvious toward the end of the novel, but I won't say how.
In Mr. Doyle's hands, the comedic edge of these serious issues makes the reading a lot less painful, and actually funny. I mean, where else would you laugh at the mention of a pair of purple velour sweats that are called cancer pants? Or lyrics to a song called "Erectional Dysfunction?" And I loved The Electric Picnic -- that whole scene just crackled. In fact, I had a very good time with this book, although I must say that to me, the energy level of this one was a bit lower than the previous three Rabbitte family novels and some of the situations seemed forced, while some felt underdeveloped. However, aside from the funny moments, what I really liked about this book and the others I've read is that while the author employs humor to take the edge off the serious things, he never lets his readers lose sight of the fact that life can be downright tough. I've also become fond of the Rabbitte family, who over the last couple of decades have experienced one crisis after another, getting through them with wit, wisdom, love and practicality. The same applies here.
I can without any qualms recommend this book -- you'll get so much more out of it by reading the first three Barrytown novels but it's certainly not a problem if you don't. I'll most definitely be returning to Roddy Doyle in the very near future.
June 9, 2017
Rabbite At Rest.
It's interesting how Doyle's 'Barrytown' trilogy, like The Simpsons, started off being all about the son and became all about the father. Over a quarter of a century after he first appeared in The Commitments,m it's nice to see Jimmy Rabbitte Junior take centre stage again. The last time we saw him in a novel was in the bath singing THIS IS JIMMY RABBITTE ALL OVER OIRELAND.
He's older, married, with a sizeable litter of kids. He also has bowel cancer and a problem with telling his wife. (How do you tell a woman who's just had 'a ride' off you, he ponders, that you have cancer?) He's also, somehow, paid off a mortgage by selling Celtic rock ('riverdance for Nazis') to nostalgia freaks over the Internet.
Music, contemporary Dublin, satire, swearing and sentence fragments. We're back in Barrytown. After the decidedly naff second and third books in The Last Roundup trilogy, we're happy to be there.
For a while.
Doyle's style (minimalist, dialogue heavy with virtually no description), deftly managed in the earlier books, almost sinks this one. Watch him tripping over himself to let you know who's talking, especially in the scenes with more than one character named Jimmy.
A key plot point revolves around the lovely Imelda Quirke, yet we get no description of what she actually looks like: Doyle plainly assumes that has already been covered in The Commitments, leaving a newcomer might wonder what all the fuss was about. The book, unusually for Doyle, is over-plotted; it tangles up the story.
The main plus of this book was reminding me how good Doyle - surely one of the best novelists of the 90s - used to be, and how well those first five books hold up. I urge your attention to them.
It's interesting how Doyle's 'Barrytown' trilogy, like The Simpsons, started off being all about the son and became all about the father. Over a quarter of a century after he first appeared in The Commitments,m it's nice to see Jimmy Rabbitte Junior take centre stage again. The last time we saw him in a novel was in the bath singing THIS IS JIMMY RABBITTE ALL OVER OIRELAND.
He's older, married, with a sizeable litter of kids. He also has bowel cancer and a problem with telling his wife. (How do you tell a woman who's just had 'a ride' off you, he ponders, that you have cancer?) He's also, somehow, paid off a mortgage by selling Celtic rock ('riverdance for Nazis') to nostalgia freaks over the Internet.
Music, contemporary Dublin, satire, swearing and sentence fragments. We're back in Barrytown. After the decidedly naff second and third books in The Last Roundup trilogy, we're happy to be there.
For a while.
Doyle's style (minimalist, dialogue heavy with virtually no description), deftly managed in the earlier books, almost sinks this one. Watch him tripping over himself to let you know who's talking, especially in the scenes with more than one character named Jimmy.
A key plot point revolves around the lovely Imelda Quirke, yet we get no description of what she actually looks like: Doyle plainly assumes that has already been covered in The Commitments, leaving a newcomer might wonder what all the fuss was about. The book, unusually for Doyle, is over-plotted; it tangles up the story.
The main plus of this book was reminding me how good Doyle - surely one of the best novelists of the 90s - used to be, and how well those first five books hold up. I urge your attention to them.
December 29, 2013
I rarely give up on a book, but I am afraid that this one has beaten me. I have always enjoyed the movie adaptations of Roddy Doyle's books, and so when I heard that a follow up to the Commitments was coming soon, I looked forward to reading it. There is no doubt a very good story in here, however, as it has taken me almost a week to pick my way through Doyle's disjointed narrative style of writing, I can read no more, and am giving up at about the half way point. There is no narrative whatsoever. It reads like a movie script. Doyle tries to capture the essence of conversation and dialogue complete with interruptions, interjections, and of course plenty of course language, and no doubt if you were to sit in a pub and eavesdrop on conversations taking place around you, you would say that he has succeeded in doing so. But is this what you want to read? Not I. I'm off to look for a book that flows nicely from start to finish. This one is too much like hard work.
October 26, 2023
This novel started out entertaining and became a slog the longer I read. The premise: Jimmy Rabbitte, the guy who invented the Commitments back in the 1980s and in the so-titled novel (which I have not read) is older now, 47, with a wife and 4 kids when he gets a cancer diagnosis that upturns his life. Sadly there is very little in terms of dramatic development, since the diagnosis is at the beginning and you never fear for his life, this is mostly a music-filled midlife crisis with some angst. When there are moments for potential drama (say, an affair) it is weirdly downplayed, only to never be mentioned again.
The novel is easy to read, and in parts entertaining, but really left me scratching my head once I'd finished it. Some other commentators have mentioned how "funny" the novel is, and, as often, this might be my problem with it. I didn't really respond to the humour if I found it at all, instead it just seemed to meander a lot.
The novel is easy to read, and in parts entertaining, but really left me scratching my head once I'd finished it. Some other commentators have mentioned how "funny" the novel is, and, as often, this might be my problem with it. I didn't really respond to the humour if I found it at all, instead it just seemed to meander a lot.
January 19, 2015
I would have given this five stars, only that I believe that Doyle's original Barrytown Trilogy, The Commitments, The Snapper and The Van are perfect in capturing a viewpoint of and the essence of North-Side Dublin life. The language, the wit and the never-say-die attitude to daily life are infected with laugh-out-loud humour.
Perhaps, I have a bias as I am a Dubliner and a very proud North-Sider. To understand the North and South division - the River Liffey is the natural border - you either have to be a native of Dublin, or, live here. As there is a snobbery among South Dubliners towards "de Nortsiad", there is a certain amount of literary snobbery about Roddy Doyle, but, to those true students and readers of Irish Literature, he is up there with the greats. He has captured an epoch of Dublin life like no other writer of his generation. Would Joyce have done better with as much gritty realism if he was around today?
This book revisits Jimmy Rabbitte from The Commitments, who is now middle-aged, married with kids, battling bowel cancer, but, still working in the music industry recycling old bands in the modern media and festival formats to their original, though now ageing fan-base. Deep down though, Jimmy is still the same enthusiastic peddler of soul, but, with no bullshit.
The Rabbitte family is as close-knit as ever and Jimmy's genuine love for his wife and kids are a core part of the novel. He is all hugs and kisses, a lot different from the stereotypical Dads and famous inhibited Irish males, especially of my Church-bullied and emotionally repressed generation, that I can observe in Dublin! As well, the scenes between him and his Dad, who had some of the best comic lines in the original Barrytown Trilogy, are scenes of genuine affection. I watched a film version of The Snapper at Christmas, and, after 21 years in the can, it is as fresh and funny as ever.
The deadpan humour that originally distinguished Roddy Doyle's writing, and brought him to our attention, is as spot on as it always was. The conversational prose is brilliant and very earthy in the Dublin vernacular. People actually do talk like this! My office canteen could provide a book of equal wit, humour and unquenchable optimism.
This is a stand-alone novel, as were all the books in the Barrytown Trilogy, referred to above, but, will work for anyone who was not on Planet Earth and had somehow managed not to know about The Commitments.
Obviously, The Guts lacks the originality, the publishing surprise element and the youthful energy of The Commitments, The Snapper and The Van, but, the passion is still there, though now injected with some pathos with the demise of characters from the previous books. Doyle plays the nostalgia card well, with two old characters, Imelda Quirk - "a ride, wha'?" - and Outspan neatly included in the story to introduce scenes of the real life melancholy and poignancy that intrudes into real daily life. The humour becomes a temporary escape from and vent for life's troubles. This is how Dubliners live. The crazy dialogue dominates the novel though, providing continuous entertainment to the reader.
The final scenes set around "Electric Picnic", a real-life and great Irish rock festival for young and old, are classic Doyle at his best. I won't spoil the plot, but, there are a couple of hilarious scenes, including one of Outspan being floated by the crowd on an inflatable armchair and landing on the Stage.
Roddy Doyle's fiction in "Dublinese" has always travelled well, similar to the typical Scottish diction of Trainspotting by Irving Welsh. I believe that this novel succeeds too. Roddy Doyle has proved his versatility and great writing skills with seriously themed novels in different genres in the intervening years, but, this comic revisit to Barrytown will be welcomed by his original fans.
In the opinion of this Dubliner, it's bleedin' rapi'!
Perhaps, I have a bias as I am a Dubliner and a very proud North-Sider. To understand the North and South division - the River Liffey is the natural border - you either have to be a native of Dublin, or, live here. As there is a snobbery among South Dubliners towards "de Nortsiad", there is a certain amount of literary snobbery about Roddy Doyle, but, to those true students and readers of Irish Literature, he is up there with the greats. He has captured an epoch of Dublin life like no other writer of his generation. Would Joyce have done better with as much gritty realism if he was around today?
This book revisits Jimmy Rabbitte from The Commitments, who is now middle-aged, married with kids, battling bowel cancer, but, still working in the music industry recycling old bands in the modern media and festival formats to their original, though now ageing fan-base. Deep down though, Jimmy is still the same enthusiastic peddler of soul, but, with no bullshit.
The Rabbitte family is as close-knit as ever and Jimmy's genuine love for his wife and kids are a core part of the novel. He is all hugs and kisses, a lot different from the stereotypical Dads and famous inhibited Irish males, especially of my Church-bullied and emotionally repressed generation, that I can observe in Dublin! As well, the scenes between him and his Dad, who had some of the best comic lines in the original Barrytown Trilogy, are scenes of genuine affection. I watched a film version of The Snapper at Christmas, and, after 21 years in the can, it is as fresh and funny as ever.
The deadpan humour that originally distinguished Roddy Doyle's writing, and brought him to our attention, is as spot on as it always was. The conversational prose is brilliant and very earthy in the Dublin vernacular. People actually do talk like this! My office canteen could provide a book of equal wit, humour and unquenchable optimism.
This is a stand-alone novel, as were all the books in the Barrytown Trilogy, referred to above, but, will work for anyone who was not on Planet Earth and had somehow managed not to know about The Commitments.
Obviously, The Guts lacks the originality, the publishing surprise element and the youthful energy of The Commitments, The Snapper and The Van, but, the passion is still there, though now injected with some pathos with the demise of characters from the previous books. Doyle plays the nostalgia card well, with two old characters, Imelda Quirk - "a ride, wha'?" - and Outspan neatly included in the story to introduce scenes of the real life melancholy and poignancy that intrudes into real daily life. The humour becomes a temporary escape from and vent for life's troubles. This is how Dubliners live. The crazy dialogue dominates the novel though, providing continuous entertainment to the reader.
The final scenes set around "Electric Picnic", a real-life and great Irish rock festival for young and old, are classic Doyle at his best. I won't spoil the plot, but, there are a couple of hilarious scenes, including one of Outspan being floated by the crowd on an inflatable armchair and landing on the Stage.
Roddy Doyle's fiction in "Dublinese" has always travelled well, similar to the typical Scottish diction of Trainspotting by Irving Welsh. I believe that this novel succeeds too. Roddy Doyle has proved his versatility and great writing skills with seriously themed novels in different genres in the intervening years, but, this comic revisit to Barrytown will be welcomed by his original fans.
In the opinion of this Dubliner, it's bleedin' rapi'!
December 16, 2015
I listened to the audiobook after reading the book last year as it's my book club's choice this month. The audiobook got a higher rating from me than the print book. To really enjoy this book completely you have to hear it! The narrator does the Dublin accents perfectly bringing the prose alive. It is laugh out loud funny.
February 28, 2014
Roddy Doyle manages to take a subject like cancer and turn it into an story that will have you laughing, and yes, crying too, but a book about an aging musician with cancer doesn't sound like it would be humorous at all, and yet it is. Doyle's Irish humor and quick wit from the days of The Commitments is much the same as before, but he manages to take the would-be-darkest conversation topics and situations and keep everything from getting too maudlin without walking away from the seriousness of the topic altogether.
September 1, 2014
I reckon it'll be feckin' brilliant. . .
. . .And it was. Nostalgia, music, perfect dialogue, and Doyle's spot-on sometimes sentimentality KILLS.
. . .And it was. Nostalgia, music, perfect dialogue, and Doyle's spot-on sometimes sentimentality KILLS.
May 30, 2017
If this wasn't Doyle I probably wouldn't have continued reading, I must admit. Jimmy Rabbitte Jnr, the band manger in The Commitments, has turned into his father, Jimmy Snr. The passing of time will do that apparently. The characters appear to be those from The Van as the two Jimmys are interchangeable at this point. If you left out the f-, c- and s- words the book would be a third shorter. I got pretty fed up reading about men whose only thoughts were about drink and sex, with some old music in some cases. I did like those few characters who did not swear constantly, like Jimmy's daughter.
Jimmy Jnr is diagnosed with bowel cancer and while it's treatable the course won't be easy. This makes him reconsider his present life, re-contact a missing brother and unaccountably, to me, have an affair when his perfectly good wife still sleeps with him and cares about him. Can't like the man for that.
I preferred the original Barrytown trilogy, and if you like Doyle you will want to consider this instalment which does remind us to enjoy life, live well and make a mark, keeping family together. We also see Ireland's Celtic Tiger falling apart and the impact it has on those who were just getting by, or were left behind by the boom. While I found some humour and the message is to keep going with life, the overall tone isn't cheerful nor does it make me very confident for the next generation of undereducated recession-hit people. My copy has an epilogue which won't make sense unless you've read the book, so I don't see why it's called a short story.
Jimmy Jnr is diagnosed with bowel cancer and while it's treatable the course won't be easy. This makes him reconsider his present life, re-contact a missing brother and unaccountably, to me, have an affair when his perfectly good wife still sleeps with him and cares about him. Can't like the man for that.
I preferred the original Barrytown trilogy, and if you like Doyle you will want to consider this instalment which does remind us to enjoy life, live well and make a mark, keeping family together. We also see Ireland's Celtic Tiger falling apart and the impact it has on those who were just getting by, or were left behind by the boom. While I found some humour and the message is to keep going with life, the overall tone isn't cheerful nor does it make me very confident for the next generation of undereducated recession-hit people. My copy has an epilogue which won't make sense unless you've read the book, so I don't see why it's called a short story.
March 8, 2019
I haven't read any Roddy Doyle probably for the past 5 years, but he certainly hasn't lost his ability to tell a good story and weave in serious topics with lots of humour. This one is not only about cancer, but also what happened to Ireland after its period of prosperity after 2018. The same characters as were in the Commitments and the Van, just 20 years older and a little bit wiser or not.
Excellent thoughtful read. Just all the music and band stuff is not my thing, which makes me totally uncool I know, but I haven't got a clue.
Excellent thoughtful read. Just all the music and band stuff is not my thing, which makes me totally uncool I know, but I haven't got a clue.
June 10, 2014
Surprisingly, a story about a middle aged man dealing with cancer isn't all that hilarious. Crazy right. But the description in the blurb does call this a warm, funny novel. I think a lot of the humor must have been lost in translations somewhere as this is a very Irish novel and I don't think I got whatever jokes were there. By the way this is a lot of dialog writing and the main character says grand a whole lot. I think more narrative and reducing the dialog would have probably helped this story as a lot of times someone's conversations aren't all that interesting, especially when it's constantly peppered with filler words (like grand).
Nevertheless, this had a nice, gentle and drowsy quality that made it ideal for late night just about to go to bed reading. In the middle though, Jimmy our main character inexplicably starts an affair despite having a most loving, understanding supporting wife. Jimmy never feels any guilt over this and it never becomes an issue as he never reveals it to his wife so it served very little purpose to the story except to reduce what little charm it had. I get really bored with men doing the expected when going through their midlife crisis. Ho Hum.
But I got this book because of its music storyline with Jimmy being some kind of music promoter (of old acts) and when that was center stage, especially at the end when Jimmy and his buddies and his reunited brother become the old men at a rock music festival, the book was at its best. The problem is we had to slog through a whole lot of stuff to get to that point and there wasn't enough of it. It's all a bit meh and I'm kind of amazed I read the entire thing.
Nevertheless, this had a nice, gentle and drowsy quality that made it ideal for late night just about to go to bed reading. In the middle though, Jimmy our main character inexplicably starts an affair despite having a most loving, understanding supporting wife. Jimmy never feels any guilt over this and it never becomes an issue as he never reveals it to his wife so it served very little purpose to the story except to reduce what little charm it had. I get really bored with men doing the expected when going through their midlife crisis. Ho Hum.
But I got this book because of its music storyline with Jimmy being some kind of music promoter (of old acts) and when that was center stage, especially at the end when Jimmy and his buddies and his reunited brother become the old men at a rock music festival, the book was at its best. The problem is we had to slog through a whole lot of stuff to get to that point and there wasn't enough of it. It's all a bit meh and I'm kind of amazed I read the entire thing.
April 21, 2014
This was beyond wonderful. I laughed and laughed at the end. I hope somebody makes this into a film or, even better, an HBO miniseries. Because it really would be great to see this come alive on the screen. Still, it came alive in my mind. We meet, Jimmy Rabbitte, late of the Commitments. He's 47, has four kids, has a business booking acts for old bands from his youth and selling their music -free downloads!!!! - and has just learned, as the book opens, that he has colon cancer. (He has "the cancer" as they apparently say in Ireland!) He has surgery, comes out of it okay, then has to have chemo, takes some time off from work - perhaps a little too much? - gets a trumpet for Christmas and takes lessons. Then he has a great idea: let's see if they can recreate the John and Allan Lomax experience of finding unknown American folk music in Ireland. He meets Ned, an older man who, of course EVERYONE has always known is gay, but so what? Ned has a huge record collection. He introduces Jimmy to another collector. Still, he can't find what he needs so he decides to make it up. I'M GOIN' TO HELL!!! (supposedly a 1932 unknown Irish blues song) How his son, Marvin and his band, become Bulgarian, how he and his friends ultimately party out at a well known Irish rock festival is something that is just not worth missing. What a wonderful novel!
October 28, 2015
A rollicking good read all around. Doyle is brilliant and this would have been a 5 star read if not for a few personal quibbles with one of the subplots.
Read
June 16, 2017I got to page 30 to realise this book wasn't for me. To many expletives and didn't really know who was talking as everyone was called jimmy.
January 1, 2015
Love me some Roddy Doyle! This novel was all the more enjoyable for being how I christened my new Kindle, but in truth I would have enjoyed this book in any format. This novel is about Jimmy, a family man who has cancer and how he copes with the general vicissitudes of his life. The book is funny, fabulously written in an unassuming way, and oddly compelling for being about not very much. I can't say the book has much of a point which was both its strength and its weakness - I like character driven books that present life in its raw glory rather than plot driven books with an objective, but at the same time I did find myself sort of feeling like, and ... ? But still, it's a tightly woven and very enjoyable read.
April 28, 2014
From BBC radio 4:
Twenty six years on and we are back in Dublin with Jimmy Rabbitte, the ex-manager of The Commitments. Jimmy is now 47, married to Aoife and has 4 kids. Life has been rather good since we last met him, keeping a foot in the music industry and doing well during the boom. However, life is about to change for them all as Jimmy has just discovered he is ill. This is a story about friendship and family, about facing death and opting for life and maybe, just maybe, realising you can still live the dream.
Going To Hell was performed by More Than Conquerors.
Adapted by Peter Sheridan
Producer: Gemma McMullan
Directed by: Eoin O'Callaghan.
Twenty six years on and we are back in Dublin with Jimmy Rabbitte, the ex-manager of The Commitments. Jimmy is now 47, married to Aoife and has 4 kids. Life has been rather good since we last met him, keeping a foot in the music industry and doing well during the boom. However, life is about to change for them all as Jimmy has just discovered he is ill. This is a story about friendship and family, about facing death and opting for life and maybe, just maybe, realising you can still live the dream.
Going To Hell was performed by More Than Conquerors.
Adapted by Peter Sheridan
Producer: Gemma McMullan
Directed by: Eoin O'Callaghan.
February 24, 2018
One of those rare books that talks about midlife, married life and parenting, and from a male perspective.
September 22, 2023
I like Roddy Doyle. He wrote The Commitments, which is excellent. And The Van, which also became an exceptional movie.
The Guts, however, isn't great. It follows the Jimmy Rabitte character from The Comittments around 20 or so years later. And he is unwell. Very unwell. Still in the music business, though. Which is his natural area, probably. Maybe.
This time, he is dragging his family along for the ride. That is, his wife and children, with some very notable people from his past. A great recipe for a decent story, I should think. Which is why I bought the book.
There are problems, though. Serious problems. The characters are too flimsy. Who are they, what are they like? I don't know because Doyle hasn't been able to explore them enough, the way authors of novels should, and tend to. There isn't nearly enough detail about them. They are just sort of there. They mostly seem to exist just to give Jimmy another person to talk to. Or grant him an excuse to speak. Apart from Jimmy, his wife, (spelt Aoifi, which is pronounced Eva - how would we know?) and Jimmy's Father, all other characters in the book are empty souls who just say things.
As for the dialogue, if you aren't familiar with or tolerent of the working class dublin chatter, which goes on and on for 327 pages, it might grate on you somewhat. They swear a lot. And it is gratuitous. Authentic? Sure. But that doesn't mean you will like it.
The ending I found odd. The story doesn't conclude at all. The writer just stopped writing. So don't expect anything interesting at the finish.
I enjoyed many parts of this book. But not enough of it. I just think Jimmy Rabitte deserved more than this.
The Guts, however, isn't great. It follows the Jimmy Rabitte character from The Comittments around 20 or so years later. And he is unwell. Very unwell. Still in the music business, though. Which is his natural area, probably. Maybe.
This time, he is dragging his family along for the ride. That is, his wife and children, with some very notable people from his past. A great recipe for a decent story, I should think. Which is why I bought the book.
There are problems, though. Serious problems. The characters are too flimsy. Who are they, what are they like? I don't know because Doyle hasn't been able to explore them enough, the way authors of novels should, and tend to. There isn't nearly enough detail about them. They are just sort of there. They mostly seem to exist just to give Jimmy another person to talk to. Or grant him an excuse to speak. Apart from Jimmy, his wife, (spelt Aoifi, which is pronounced Eva - how would we know?) and Jimmy's Father, all other characters in the book are empty souls who just say things.
As for the dialogue, if you aren't familiar with or tolerent of the working class dublin chatter, which goes on and on for 327 pages, it might grate on you somewhat. They swear a lot. And it is gratuitous. Authentic? Sure. But that doesn't mean you will like it.
The ending I found odd. The story doesn't conclude at all. The writer just stopped writing. So don't expect anything interesting at the finish.
I enjoyed many parts of this book. But not enough of it. I just think Jimmy Rabitte deserved more than this.
June 11, 2021
Genuinely laugh out loud funny, genuinely moving and genuinely… uh… genuine.
I read the Barrytown trilogy (of which the most famous part is The Commitments) over twenty years ago and have never got round to reading any other Roddy Doyles. Which I feel is my mistake; the Barrytown books are great and The Guts is just as much fun.
We pick up the story of The Commitments’ short-lived Manager, Jimmy Rabbitte. Older, married with 4 kids, still mad on music but finding himself with cancer. This life-threatening event, with the backdrop of the global economic crisis and its effect on Ireland, prompts Jimmy to do some soul searching and look for meaning. Does he find it? Not necessarily but he finds a lot else.
Doyle’s genius is in his dialogue. Conversations are fast and snappy and very funny; Jimmy and his Dad, Jimmy and his wife, Jimmy and his lover, Jimmy and his kids, Jimmy and his estranged brother and Jimmy and his old friends.
There’s plenty to love on the way through this book but its finale is 24 carat gold craic as middle-aged men blunder their way through the mud and crowds of a huge music festival.
I really have to go back and read the rest of Doyle’s output – The Guts is a cracker.
I read the Barrytown trilogy (of which the most famous part is The Commitments) over twenty years ago and have never got round to reading any other Roddy Doyles. Which I feel is my mistake; the Barrytown books are great and The Guts is just as much fun.
We pick up the story of The Commitments’ short-lived Manager, Jimmy Rabbitte. Older, married with 4 kids, still mad on music but finding himself with cancer. This life-threatening event, with the backdrop of the global economic crisis and its effect on Ireland, prompts Jimmy to do some soul searching and look for meaning. Does he find it? Not necessarily but he finds a lot else.
Doyle’s genius is in his dialogue. Conversations are fast and snappy and very funny; Jimmy and his Dad, Jimmy and his wife, Jimmy and his lover, Jimmy and his kids, Jimmy and his estranged brother and Jimmy and his old friends.
There’s plenty to love on the way through this book but its finale is 24 carat gold craic as middle-aged men blunder their way through the mud and crowds of a huge music festival.
I really have to go back and read the rest of Doyle’s output – The Guts is a cracker.
Read
January 4, 2021I read the Barrytown trilogy and was excited to get to this. Was a bit disappointed, to be honest. Doyle's style is spare - mostly dialogue, with bits of description splattered in between. In some of his other books, there was more to hang onto. In THE GUTS, I didn't really feel like I was 'in the world of the novel,' so to speak. Too little description, too much dialogue (and believe me, I love dialogue).
The story itself felt fairly unfocused, too. I loved catching up with characters I'd met before, but there wasn't enough story-engine for me.
Oof. Sorry Doyle. Swing and a miss here.
The story itself felt fairly unfocused, too. I loved catching up with characters I'd met before, but there wasn't enough story-engine for me.
Oof. Sorry Doyle. Swing and a miss here.
September 29, 2021
Reading Roddy Doyle's fast-paced, lively insulting brogue is always enjoyable: he conveys personality and teasing love among men and women deftly, and that includes the repetition of rites of welcome that always always come out the same but comfort for that, say something about the personality for that.
How're ya doin', Jimmy? Grand. Jimmy is always doing grand.
But he has colon cancer, which accounts for the title, he has an unsteady relationship to money, though he gets it now by reuniting old musical groups -- including The Commitments, a book I once read, and he has an affair that ends up seeing friendly more than anything else, although it also feels likes such a stupid betrayal because his wife, whose name, Aoife, I've been pronouncing as wife, is the super most awesome of everything.
Mostly, the book is warm and loving, and I guess it takes guts to face cancer, to reunite with old passions and missing family. Raise a pint.
How're ya doin', Jimmy? Grand. Jimmy is always doing grand.
But he has colon cancer, which accounts for the title, he has an unsteady relationship to money, though he gets it now by reuniting old musical groups -- including The Commitments, a book I once read, and he has an affair that ends up seeing friendly more than anything else, although it also feels likes such a stupid betrayal because his wife, whose name, Aoife, I've been pronouncing as wife, is the super most awesome of everything.
Mostly, the book is warm and loving, and I guess it takes guts to face cancer, to reunite with old passions and missing family. Raise a pint.
October 30, 2024
Doyle writes about some intense stuff. In this case it's about the aging manager of the old Commitments as he discovers he has bowel cancer. It follows him trying to reconnect with a lost brother, an ex, and just getting through his life with his wife, family and job.
I love Doyle's writing style. Lots of quick, witty, dialogue that does a great job showing what could be considered mundane life in Ireland.
I love Doyle's writing style. Lots of quick, witty, dialogue that does a great job showing what could be considered mundane life in Ireland.
January 12, 2019
3.75 stars. This is, somehow, a funny book about cancer. I enjoy Doyle's style, his humor, and how he navigates Jimmy's mid-life crisis here. I did not like that there were no chapters, just line breaks, and a LOT of the novel was made up of texts Jimmy sends and receives. It was an interesting take on the recession in Ireland, though, and on masculinity.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 490 reviews