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The Gentleman Next Door
Self-imposed pressure to leave home for an independent life was getting to Harry. He was an arrogant, big-headed, overconfident 35 year old. His daily clash with his father had pushed him to the brink. He decided to show his parents that he was not as useless as they might think. He believed he was a responsible adult who was capable of getting everything that his father had and more. The problem was, despite his confidence, he didn’t have much experience of real life to guide him through his troubles.
Hindered by his mental health issues, everybody but him knew he needed a lot of guidance and support to perform normally in the community, but he was not prepared to be seen as an invalid. He carved his own way that he believed would get him through to what he really wanted. However, his parents were concerned that his arrogance was changing him into someone they didn’t recognise.
This humorous story is told in Harry’s own voice. It follows the twists and turns in his quest to find love and start a family of his own. He believed that love and a job were the only things that he needed. Putting all his eggs into one basket, he was sure that if he could get those two things, his life would be plain sailing.
Hindered by his mental health issues, everybody but him knew he needed a lot of guidance and support to perform normally in the community, but he was not prepared to be seen as an invalid. He carved his own way that he believed would get him through to what he really wanted. However, his parents were concerned that his arrogance was changing him into someone they didn’t recognise.
This humorous story is told in Harry’s own voice. It follows the twists and turns in his quest to find love and start a family of his own. He believed that love and a job were the only things that he needed. Putting all his eggs into one basket, he was sure that if he could get those two things, his life would be plain sailing.
177 pages, Kindle Edition
First published August 3, 2013
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September 20, 2013
This is an ambitious and vigorously written first person narration from the mind of the main character, Harry, who is thirty-five and lives with his parents.
Mum cooks for him and does his laundry; "I know she's spoiling me but I like it." His relationship with his father is an entirely different matter, but there does not seem to be any significance in that to the novel.
Harry also says in his charming manner, "I am not bigging [sic] myself, I am gorgeous." He does not think much of his own neighborhood (Cemetry Junction--why couldn't it be Emmer Green, he moans) but it has everything including (available) women; "It's a good thing I am a one woman man. It makes my head spin to think of the chaos of the place." But the one woman/girl he fancies is Lolita, of Mediterranean origin, down the street in number 125. The thought of her stimulates his "undercarriage."
For reasons not clear to the reader, and perhaps not clear to Harry himself, he leaves home and tries to find a job, initially reluctant to accept anything not at an executive level but then desperate to get anything; he never actually lands a job. Harry's perception of reality blurs and the narrative lurches like a mountain stream down a rocky bed with many switchbacks.
The exploration of the mind of a semi-lucid and semi-humorous ("I snored so hard I woke myself up several times") semi-person, however, does not appeal to me. I missed a plot or even a story, and the character is not sympathetic, appearing only to dissolve into some sort of psychosis.
The writing is also chock-full of dialect that does not seem to contribute to the plot or story.
Mum cooks for him and does his laundry; "I know she's spoiling me but I like it." His relationship with his father is an entirely different matter, but there does not seem to be any significance in that to the novel.
Harry also says in his charming manner, "I am not bigging [sic] myself, I am gorgeous." He does not think much of his own neighborhood (Cemetry Junction--why couldn't it be Emmer Green, he moans) but it has everything including (available) women; "It's a good thing I am a one woman man. It makes my head spin to think of the chaos of the place." But the one woman/girl he fancies is Lolita, of Mediterranean origin, down the street in number 125. The thought of her stimulates his "undercarriage."
For reasons not clear to the reader, and perhaps not clear to Harry himself, he leaves home and tries to find a job, initially reluctant to accept anything not at an executive level but then desperate to get anything; he never actually lands a job. Harry's perception of reality blurs and the narrative lurches like a mountain stream down a rocky bed with many switchbacks.
The exploration of the mind of a semi-lucid and semi-humorous ("I snored so hard I woke myself up several times") semi-person, however, does not appeal to me. I missed a plot or even a story, and the character is not sympathetic, appearing only to dissolve into some sort of psychosis.
The writing is also chock-full of dialect that does not seem to contribute to the plot or story.
Displaying 1 of 1 review