Boxer, Beetle

by Ned Beauman

Kevin "Fishy" Broom has his nickname for a reason -- a rare genetic condition that makes his sweat and other bodily excretions smell like rotting fish. Consequently, he rarely ventures out of the apartment where he deals online in Nazi memorabilia. But when he stumbles into a crime scene, he finds himself drawn into an investigation of a pair of small-time players in pre-WWII history. First, there's Philip Erskine, a fascist gentleman entomologist who dreams of breeding an indomitable beetle as a tribute to Hitler's glory, all the while aspiring to arguably more sinister projects in human eugenics. And then there's Sinner Roach, a nine-toed, runtish, brutish, homosexual Jewish boxer -- a somewhat hideous specimen, but perfect, in his way, who becomes on object of obsession for Erskine, professionally and most definitely otherwise. What became of the boxer? What became of the beetle? And what will become of anyone who tries to find out? First-time novelist Ned Beauman spins out a dazzling narrative across decades and continents, weaving his own manic fiction through the back alleys of history. A remarkably assured, wildly enjoyable debut.

Genres: Fiction, Mystery, Contemporary, Historical Fiction, Novels, British Literature, Fantasy

276 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 2010

Reviews

[Melki · Rating 4 out of 5]

A poor unfortunate soul suffering from several unsavory though non-terminal maladies makes a meager living collecting and selling war memorabilia. One night he stumbles upon a murder scene, and an astonishing letter from one Adolph Hitler. This leads us to London in the thirties, and Philip Erskine, a Nazi sympathizer and entomologist, who has become obsessed with a short, nasty Jewish boxer, and this new movement for improving mankind known as eugenics.

What a strange book, peopled with odd, and oddly fascinating (I honestly can't say any of them were likable), characters. I had a hard time putting it down. Keep in mind - this is a gritty, dark book, and the author has a wry, twisted sense of humor. My kind of thing - you bet . . . but maybe not yours.


Anophthalmus hitleri

[Megan · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is dirty. I mean, Beauman's sentences are filled with words that make you feel scummy and grimy and all kinds of disgusting. Like you have to clean your ears out. That's a compliment. This book has things that interest me - WWII Nazi memorabilia collecting, science, boxing, crazy hijinks - and it's pretty damn good writing for Beauman's first time around.

[Warwick · Rating 4 out of 5]

Hannah’s been telling me to read this for over a year and I should have listened sooner – it is, as promised, exactly the kind of witty, verbally playful and intelligent historical fantasia that I love. Beauman, who published it at the horrific age of just twenty-five, has clearly been raised on a mixed diet that includes plenty of Terry Pratchett among the tomes of social history.

The set-up here involves an effete aristocrat, a diminutive gay boxer, a pungent collector of Nazi memorabilia, and the hunt for a new species of beetle – but all that is really just an excuse to splash around in the warm waters of various underexplored shoals of history. The book shares its interwar setting with Thomas Pynchon’s recent Shadow Ticket, though Beauman’s attention is more focused on Britain, and especially its Jewish communities. There is also space to examine early experiments in machine automation, the disease trimethylaminuria, East End gangsterism and the 1930s craze for constructed languages – one character, Erskine, having developed a rigorously logical language dubbed Pangaean which his friends greet with some scepticism:

Thurlow also noted that Volapük, based largely on English, could be picked up in a few weeks – whereas Pangaean, which had thirty participatory reflexes, forty derivative conflations, fifty adjunctive modalities and sixty-nine consonantal mutations, was so complex that even Erskine himself could not pretend to be fluent. Erskine retorted that the language was not intended for sluggards.

The long interlude spent at Erskine’s family seat is a farce of almost Wodehousean pleasure, though it’s kept from feeling too light thanks to the fact that the occasion is a gathering of British fascists (well, and the fact that it climaxes in a grisly murder). Erskine’s sister, Evelyn – as the only decent female character, and one of the few likeable ones – is an especially welcome addition, though her prospective father-in-law takes a dimmer view:

Since most of his stereotypes were at least fifteen years out of date, he placed her somewhere between the opium-smoking flapper and the Ibsen woman who instead of children has ‘soul-conflict’. He felt sure that her unlucky future husband would discover on her naked body the wounds of at least three (apparently contradictory) sexual tendencies, each on its own enough to prevent her from even giving him a healthy heir: the bruised pustulent genitals of a dizzy aristocratic whore; the sinister buttock tattoos of a lesbian cultist; and the pancake breasts of a neurotic Modernist androgyne.

This kind of larking about in the margins of serious events is something that always appeals to me, and Boxer, Beetle is an excellent example of the genre. Beauman has a pleasingly expansive vocabulary, and knows how to deploy it equally well to freshen up a description or to hone a punchline. Sometimes the pacing of this first novel feels a little off, but the tone – that most elusive and important quality of prose style – is, on the whole, remarkably well controlled. I’ll be reading all his others.

[Richard Derus · Rating 4 out of 5]

Rating: 4.25* of five

Come have a look at my warble of joy about Beauman's first novel! I loved THE TELEPORTATION ACCIDENT (unlike the rest of the world, seemingly), so take that into account....

[Blair · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the great things about going to the library is that sometimes, completely by chance, you spot books you've previously read or heard about, added to a mental wishlist and then completely forgotten. This is exactly what happened with Boxer, Beetle. It caught my eye and I immediately recalled having heard something good about it on TV (I think on The Culture Show or something), and the rapturous reviews quoted all over the jacket helped me to decide to borrow it. But I probably wouldn't have remembered it, otherwise. I'm so grateful for this bit of serendipity, because the book is brilliant.

The bulk of the story takes place in the mid-1930s, centering on two very different characters: Seth 'Sinner' Roach, a tough and very violent gay Jewish boxer, and Philip Erskine, a timid student of both eugenics and fascism who is in denial about his own homosexuality. Erskine becomes obsessed with Sinner, (barely) concealing his lust by claiming he needs to examine him as part of a experiment in genetics, and Sinner is forced to accept Erskine's offer to 'buy' him after his boxing career stalls and he succumbs to alcoholism. Meanwhile, Erskine is also attempting to breed an invincible species of eyeless beetle with markings that resemble a swastika, which he names after his hero - Hitler. This dominant strand of the plot is combined with a sprinkling of chapters set in the present day, in which Kevin 'Fishy' Broom (so nicknamed because of an unfortunate medical condition, trimethylaminuria), a collector and dealer in Nazia memorabilia, comes across a letter from Hitler to Erskine. Finding himself pursued by a Welsh assassin, he becomes drawn into the mystery of Erskine's research and what became of Sinner - who, as far as history is concerned, seems to have vanished after a disastrous conference of fascists at a country house in 1936, at which a scandalous murder took place.

The front and back covers are full of newspaper hyperbole - 'dazzling', 'terrific', 'gripping', 'hilarious', 'exhilarating'. All of these are accurate. The plot, while appealingly original in itself, doesn't really sum up all that's good about the novel, and I'm not sure I'm up to the task either; you simply need to read this book and you're just going to have to take my word for it. It's completely compelling, very exciting and vastly intelligent, reminding me of a Jonathan Coe book in several ways - the well-researched historical detail which will have you constantly checking Wikipedia to find out if this or that is real or the author's invention, the labyrinthine conversations, and the high quota of coincidences, some unacknowledged. It's also incredibly funny. I can't remember the last time I laughed out loud this much while reading. The characters are fantastic - repulsive but endearing Kevin, potentially brilliant but self-destructive Sinner, and Erskine, who you should hate but can't help feeling a weird sympathy for, with his bumbling, awkward manner and complete lack of self-knowledge. On top of this it has wonderful character names, excellent sex scenes (such a rare thing) and so much atmosphere - there's a brief interlude set in New York, and even though it's just one short chapter, the sense of time and place is note-perfect.

If I had to make a criticism here, it would be that some sequences of events unfold too quickly and conveniently to be realistic. But who cares, when it's such tremendous fun to read? The final thing to note about this book is that Ned Beauman is YOUNGER THAN ME. I should hate him for making me feel like an unaccomplished foolish failure, but just I loved the book too much.

[Ian · Rating 1 out of 5]

I started off enjoying this novel as the first few chapters introduced a really strange and intriguing brew of lead characters.

In the present day, Fishy - a determined collector of Nazi memorabilia and so named for his medical condition that makes him smell of rotting fish. Then back in the 1930's, Sinner - a brutal, gay Jewish boxer who is but 4ft tall and has only nine toes. Then also in the 1930's, there is Erskine - an emotionally and sexually repressed upper class scientist who is an avid believer in eugenics - the science of selective breeding, that was so beloved of the Nazis - who is trying to breed a dominant and aggressive "Hitler beetle" from an existing beetle that already has the swastika displayed on it's wings.

These three characters are then drawn together in a crime plot that is set off by Fishy's discovery of a dead body.

Intriguing as this beginning was, it went rapidly downhill. The plot just wandered too much, trying to draw in too many bizarre strands and the author's pedantic use of language became tiresome. I just think the author was trying to be just too clever for his own good and it all fell apart for me. I got to the end, but gained no satisfaction from the denouement and was just glad it was over and I could move on to reading another book.

[Snakes · Rating 1 out of 5]

I just can't. I had such high hopes for this book. I was completely in after the first couple of chapters. However, the interesting storylines devolve into 6 page chapters and the boring storylines open up into longer chapters. I've read half and I just can't go further. It's just not that interesting.

[Bülent Ö. · Rating 3 out of 5]

6,5/10

Hızlı okunan ilginç bir kitaptı. Güzel benzetmeler vardı. Komik bir üslupla yazılmış. Bazı kısımları birinci tekil şahıs bazıları ise üçüncü tekil şahıs anlatıcı ile anlatılmıştı. Çevirisi iyiydi. Aceleye getirilmiş bir sonu vardı diyebilirim ama zevkle okudum.

Güzel cümlelerin bazıları:

"..., Pock geri geri gidip ipin üzerinden yuvarlandı ve yoksul bir ülkeye giren kötü bir fikir gibi bahisçilerin üzerine düştü." (s. 14)

"Adamın boynunda üzerinde altı tane uzun, eğri büğrü kıl çıkan bir ben vardı; sanki mancınıktan atılan bir örümcek gelip etine saplanmıştı." (s. 67)

"Kaşları sürekli alaycı bir şekilde kıvrık duruyordu; sanki sabırla dünyanın geri kalanının sigarasını yere atmasını, gösterişi bırakıp, aslında her şeyin ne kadar saçma olduğunu itiraf etmesini bekliyor gibiydi." (s. 95)

"Tekdüze bir sesle konuşuyordu. İçindeki bir şeyler, bir çuvalın içindeki kediler gibi boğulmuştu." (s. 190)

"Herkesin söylediği gibi en büyük ıslah edici değil, en büyük sadeleştirici olan zamana teslim olmamayı..." (s. 225)

[Mmars · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really 3.5

When I was about the same age as Ned Beauman was when he wrote this book, I read a lot of Vonnegut. I bring his up, not to compare Beaumann to Vonnegut, but to discuss how times have changed. Slaughterhouse Five (Vonnegut's take on the Dresden bombing) was a creative tour de force that, in my opinion, is still unparalleled. It had strong appeal to young radical minds of the times. Boxer, Beetle has that same appeal. But this would undoubtedly have been considered too offensive for any broad international attention in Vonnegut's prime years.

Most impressive for me, is Beauman's ingenuity. The story is ingenious. The reader is forced to digest the grit of the world during Hitler's mid-1930s rise - boxing, the theories of eugenics and fascism, and startling scientific experimentation. He is a wonderful conversation writer. But Beauman is also a little too intelligent and some of the philosopical discussions and inclusions seemed forced and overdone. I felt several unnecessary characters were in included just for these discussions. The flip side of all this - it's exciting to discover a writer so young, so smart, and so creative.

It's also impossible to reflect upon Boxer, Beetle without bringing up the violence, sex, and bodily fluids and factors. The violence had context, the sex was gratuitous, but the bodily stuff, the "gross" stuff that 10-year-old boys love, well, I don't think it's ever been better written.

Oh, and one other little thing - I love the way he wrote himself into the book. Kind of Hitchcockian.

[Alan · Rating 3 out of 5]

I did it backward, coming at Boxer, Beetle after reading Ned Beauman's newer novel, The Teleportation Accident. This is a briefer and less polished work, not nearly as entertaining as its successor. But still, it has its appeal.

That's not due to its characters, though, who are almost without exception repellent individuals. Kevin Broom, the collector and reseller of Nazi memorabilia whom we meet first, actually turns out to be one of the less reprehensible members of Beauman's crew of dissolute souls. There's also Grublock, another collector though with much more money and fewer qualms. It's Grublock who sets Broom on the trail of a decades-old mystery, prompted by a letter written to an obscure British entomologist and would-be eugenicist named Philip Erskine in 1936 by the rather less obscure Reichschancellor Adolf Hitler, thanking Erskine for an unnamed gift.

And so, a mystery. What could Philip Erskine, bug-hunter and expert on breeding, possibly have given Hitler to elicit such a response? Conceivably something quite valuable—if not to the world at large, then at least to closeted collectors like Broom and Grublock.

Adding to the mystery is the relationship between Erskine and the boxer of the title, a short, scrappy, indefatigable Jewish pugilist named Seth "Sinner" Roach. Erskine begins simply by watching Roach in the ring, but later treats Roach more as an experimental subject, those aspirations toward eugenicism rearing its misshapen head yet again.

Sinner, of course, has his own ideas about his and Erskine's partnership...


It seems fairly obvious that Beauman, despite inserting himself into the ranks of online posters on Nazi memorabilia collectors' forums, holds little sympathy for the Nazis or their hangers-on. He is, to coin a phrase, taking the piss out of the National Socialists, the Fascists in Italy, and of course Britain's own home-grown crop of Blackshirts past and present. There's a marvelous scene at a dinner party full of Fascists, for example, where Philip's sister Evelyn Erskine, one of the few consistently likeable characters in the novel, deconstructs her dining companions' self-contradictory stereotyping of the Jews, and does it so deftly that they don't even notice!

But still, though, it's uncomfortable to read so much poisonous talk, however cleverly defused. Many, if not most, of the characters in Boxer, Beetle are seeing the Nazis sympathetically (or at least reserving judgement), during their rise to prominence, before their views were quite so obviously ridiculous and threatening to the world at large. Beauman's portrayal of the widespread anti-Semitism that was common discourse during the 1930s in Britain (and, to be fair, in the U.S. as well—though in this novel America makes only a brief appearance) is accurate, breathtaking, and deeply disturbing. This is often a very funny book, but it isn't always an enjoyable one.

It's not so much the characters themselves and their discourse that make this book worth reading anyway, though, although those are well-drawn. Beauman's interweaving of past and present, his knowing eye and light yet powerful prose... those are some of the more compelling factors that make Boxer, Beetle, despite or perhaps because of its daring treatment of its topic, into something worthwhile.

[John Anthony · Rating 3 out of 5]

No doubt some people find beetles creepy. When they are combined, as they are here, with Nazism and the ruthless collecting of Nazi memorabilia - murdering as necessary to get the desired prize -they ARE creepy.

The book moves backwards and forwards in time – focusing partly on the years leading up to the Second World War and then to more recent times of serious Nazi collecting. Centre stage in 1930s London are Seth Roach, aka Sinner, and Dr Philip Erskine. The first is a young, diminutive and highly successful boxer who happens to be Jewish, fascist, viciously homosexual and rather unpleasant (he reminded me somewhat of Pinkie in Graham Greene's Brighton Rock ). The second has a professional interest in beetles and a less than professional interest in Seth Roach. They are equally unpleasant, though Erskine for me has the edge in the nastiness stakes - Mephistophelean to a fault.

A weird book, yarn-fully so and oddly difficult to put down.

[Nick · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was a fun global cabal romp.
I read a couple Beauman's works in reverse chronology, which probably isn't the best way to approach this author. It's evident midway through Boxer that Beauman's ideas and prose are much sharper in his latter work, Glow.

[Natalie · Rating 5 out of 5]

When I'm browsing in a bookstore, I give a book approximately one paragraph to capture my interest before I move on. This book passed that test with flying colors.

In idle moments I sometimes like to close my eyes and imagine Joseph Goebbels' forty-third birthday party. I like to think that even in the busy autumn of 1940, Hitler might have found time to oragnise a surprise party for his close friend - pretending for weeks that the date had slipped his mind, deliberately ignoring the Propaganda Minister's increasingly sulky and awkward hints, and waiting until the very last order had been dispatched to his U-boat commanders on the evening of Tuesday, 29 October before he led Goebbels on some pretext into the cocktail lounge of the Reich Chancellery. A great should of "Alles Gute zum Geburtstag!', a cascade of streamers, some relieved and perhaps even slightly tearful laughter for Goebbels himself as he embraced the Führer, and the party could begin.

Part scientific exploration (ish), part love story (ish), and part treasure hunt, the real meat of this story was in its utterly deplorable yet strangely lovable characters. "Fishy," who is imagining the birthday party mentioned above, is a modern-day lock-in, stricken with a condition that makes him smell like week-old fish; Seth "Sinner" Roach, a vertically challenged, strangely handsome, alcoholic, Jewish boxer; Philip Erskine, an utterly ridiculous entomologist, fascist, and Hitler admirer.

I'm guessing Sinner was supposed to be the star of this book, but for me it was Erskine. Sinner was angry, mean, vindictive, self-destructive, and utterly unrepentant. Erskine was a fascist and eugenicist and you don't want to like him, but he's so bumbling, so awkward and uncomfortable in his own skin that you can't help, at the very least, be amused by him. As it was, I grew to have the same affection you might have for a slightly retarded dog that continually ran into walls; that is, pitying. And despite the gravity that becomes very immediate in his relationship with Sinner near the end of the book, I could never quite take him seriously.

Several times, this book made me laugh out loud. The style of writing is simultaneously flip and evocative which makes for a very engrossing, very fast read. Watching Sinner's and Erskine's relationship--I almost want to put quotes around the word--develop is like watching a train wreck. Following Fishy's present day treasure hunt (did I mention the Welsh hitman?) lent an extra sense of mystery to what was happening back in '34.

This is definitely a book I'd recommend to friends... as long as they have a well-developed sense of humor.

[Nickie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Morrissey's wet dream - East End boxers of the '30s, man on man action, Nazis, eugenics. IT'S ALL HERE STEPHEN. And it's written by a twenty six year old, which would usually put me off, but luckily I'd already read the most excellent first paragraph (see below) before I discovered this. You can tell that it's his first novel - just a few bits of over-writing here and there, and the self-conscious similes that litter sections of it. If only his editor had removed these or said something. I think that he may have been attempting some sort of Raymond Chandler/hardboiled overblown simile thing with them, but really they just feel clunky and 'written' which is a shame because the rest is so impressive. Great breadth of research. Funny. If this is his first book, can't wait to read the next ones where he gets older and wiserer.


What an opening paragraph:

"In idle moments I sometimes like to close my eyes and imagine Joseph Goebbels' forty-third birthday party. I like to think that even in the busy autumn of 1940, Hitler might have found time to organise a surprise party for his close friend - pretending for weeks that the date had slipped his mind, deliberately ignoring the Propaganda Minister's increasingly sulky and awkward hints, and waiting until the very last order had been despatched to his U-boat commanders on the evening of Tuesday 29, October before he led Goebbels on some pretext into the cocktail lounge of the Reich Chancellery. A great shout of 'Alles Gute zum Geburtstag!', a cascade of streamers, some relieved and perhaps even slightly tearful laughter from Goebbels himself as he embraced the Fuhrer and the party could begin."

[George Ilsley · Rating 3 out of 5]

A brilliant novel, very well-written and easily headed for a 5-star review, until, oh dear, going seriously astray towards the end. {Beware of Spoilers!}

Dropped a star for having a murderer come in who faces no repercussions. OK, he himself dies, but the person who hired him? There are no police investigations for bodies and crimes? This reader was thrown out of the text at that point.

And the other star was lost for having a completely gratuitous mention of a "nbeauman". This was distracting and unnecessary, and for what? Author as sock puppet? Sorry, that stunt again drove this reader away.

Overall conclusion: this writer is extremely talented and look forward to reading the rest of his books in print.

[Ayça · Rating 3 out of 5]

Kitabın konusu oldukça ilginç. Yazar bahsettiği konularda iyi araştırmalar yapmış ve popüler kitaplara nazaran farklı bir konuya sahip olması da kitabın adının duyulması için yeterli olmuş. Hitler'in adının verildiği bir böcek, yahudi bir boksör. Kitap hakkında baktığım birkaç yerde gördüm ki yazar wikipedia'da dolaşırken Anophthalamus hitleri'yi ve Jim Hall'ı görmesi sonucunda bu kitabı yazmaya karar verdiğini belirtmiş. Hatta başta iki ayrı roman düşünürken sonra bu konuları birleştirmeye karar veriyor.

Konu ne kadar ilgi çekici olursa olsun kitap içinde gereksiz anlatımlar vardı. Konudan uzaklaşmak bu noktada oldukça sıkıcıydı. Cinselliği ise artık sırf kitap isim yapsın diye eklediği izlenimi oluştu bende.

Kurgu başarılı ama bir noktadan sonra dikkatiniz dağılıyor.

[tunalizade · Rating 4 out of 5]

Başlangıçta kapağı için bile alınabilecek kitaplar arasında gösterilebilir Boksör Böcek ama daha fazlasına da sahip. Zaten kapağı ödül almış.

85 doğumlu Ned Beauman’ın ilk kitabı olan Boksör Böcek’in karakterleri ise en az kapağı kadar enteresan: Nazi eşyaları koleksiyonu yapan bir genç, 1.50 m boyunda dokuz ayak parmaklı, eşcinsel, Yahudi bir boksör, üstün ırk üzerinde çalışmalar yapan bir bilim insanı, üzerinde gamalı haç olan bir anapthalmus hitleri.

Kitap dilimize Sabri Gürses tarafından kazandırılmış ve Domingo Yayınları’ndan çıkmış.

[Blančitos · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nečekala jsem, že mě to bude dost bavit.

[Shotgun · Rating 4 out of 5]

Kniha je debutem spisovatele, který se narodil v Londýně a v současnosti žije v New Yorku a byla ve výběru na Guardian Best First Bok Award a Desmond Elliot Price. U nás kniha vyšla ve světové knihovně Odeonu.
— Děj knihy se odehrává ve dvou časových rovinách. Jedna (ta ze současnosti) nás zavede do podivného světa sběratelů relikvií Třetí říše a ta druhá nás zavede do časů, kdy byl nacismus teprve na počátku svého vzestupu a my se budeme pohybovat mezi jeho stoupenci z řad britské aristokracie i proletariátu. Kromě pozapomenutých figurek jako byl Oswald Mosley si připomeneme i různé divné teorie, hnutí a vědecké teorie jako byla eugenika.
— Hrdinové starší časové roviny jsou židovský boxer Seth Hříšník Roach a aristokratický entomolog Philip Erskin. Hříšník je takový židovský Tomáš Řepka ale s tělem tolkienovského trpaslíka ale bez vousů a předkožky, který má asi díky tomu, že z něho agrese a sebevědomí přímo sálá obrovský úspěch u žen a ještě větší u mužů. Erskin je jeho pravým opakem – zdegenerovaný aristokrat, který si vymýšlí vlastní jazyk a sní o tom, jak bude šlechtit lidskou rasu jako dostihové koně.
— Také hrdina novější větve vyprávění je hodně bizarní postavička. Kevin Broom pomáhá bohatému sběrateli nacistických militarií vyhledávat a kupovat nové exempláře do jeho sbírky a také je touto vášní postižený. A nejen sbíráním různé svastikou poznamenané veteše – má jednu poměrně vzácnou nemoc, která mu znemožňuje pohyb mezi lidmi a proto tráví většinu času na internetových fórech věnovaných Třetí říši.
— V závěru se osudy těchto tří postav propletou a ještě k nim přibude tajemný hitman z Walesu. Při čtení této postmoderní knihy se čtenář dozví obrovskou sumu bizarních a zbytečných detailů, zajímavostí a faktů. Kniha je napsána košatým jazykem a čte se moc dobře. Děj knihy pádí jak tankista na piku a pokud nemáte problém s líčením trochy toho homosexuálního sexu, tak by se vám mohl líbit. Doporučuji všem těm, kteří mají v knihovně knihy autorů jako je William Seward Burroughs, Chuck Palahniuk nebo Michel Houellebecq .

[Rebecca · Rating 3 out of 5]

A witty and accomplished first novel from a disgustingly young British author – I groaned when I saw he was born in 1985. Ultimately I thought he didn’t join the various elements of the plot expertly enough, such that the book really did have two separate fixations, as its title suggests.

Beauman attempts to bring things together through the main characters of Seth Roach (“Sinner”), a short, nine-toed Jewish boxer, and Philip Erskine, an entomologist and budding Nazi eugenicist who wishes to study Sinner’s anatomy – both during life and after death, thus their rather Faustian pact.

This 1930’s story is framed by the present-day narration of Kevin Broom, a Nazi memorabilia collector and sufferer of a rare genetic disease which causes him to smell strongly of fish. In the novel’s early pages Kevin comes across a letter from Hitler to Erskine thanking him for the honor of having a beetle species named after himself – a species Erskine found in Poland and dedicated to the Führer because of its swastika-like markings. Broom is kidnapped by an agent presumably working for the elderly Erskine, who wants to find Sinner’s body.

I liked the quirky plot elements and the various twists on literary tradition (the fascist conference at a country house reminded me of The Remains of the Day; the silly preteen trying to report on her sexual observations was a bit like Atonement; the mysterious drowning had a touch of Women in Love, Beauman’s self-insertion was a tip of the hat to Martin Amis and many others, and so on), but would have liked more overall coherence (and possibly less homoerotica).

Nonetheless, Beauman is one to watch.

[Stacia · Rating 3 out of 5]

Eh. I guess reading the rave reviews & the initial dark humor/strange premise pulled me in, but the book did not sustain the pace, imo. So, it was ok overall but not quite what I had hoped for.

The initial tone of the story, the Mel Brooks-esqe style of telling horrible history with a wicked grin, a cheeky remark, and a blade between the ribs, pulled me in. But, the story got more somber (& a bit more brutal & more gross) as it moved along (no surprise, I suppose), but I found the ending kind of weird & disappointing in relation to the start of the book. I really enjoyed the wicked humor in the first half. The rest, not so much. And, really, it just lost its momentum. Plus, with a story like this, I feel like I should come away with a stronger moral from the story, or a stronger feel of the stupidity of man, or something... but, that's not really there either. It just, sort-of, ended.

I don't have a bug phobia, but if you do, I'll put the caveat out there that you probably don't want to read this book (though you would probably avoid it on the title & cover art alone).

[Anna · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a very strange novel. Entertaining and compelling, but strange. There's a gay Jewish boxer, a variety of incompetent fascists, and an obsessive collector of Nazi memorabilia. The pacing was a bit odd, sometimes rushing, sometimes languorously tangential, and the plot seemed to enjoy dancing around the line of being totally offensive. I also wouldn't recommend it to anyone with even a slight phobia of beetles. Nonetheless, I was diverted. Some more female characters would have been nice, but those that there were seemed a lot more sensible and self-aware than the men. The highlights of the whole thing were the moments of transcendent posh house party farce, akin to a much darker, X-rated PG Wodehouse.

'Boxer, Beetle' also taught me the word xanthomelanous, which has a satisfying ring to it.

[Brent Legault · Rating 1 out of 5]

Like a certain reviewer from the Daily Mail, I too could "only gape" at this "new writing force." However, my gaping came about not from "admiration" but from plain old horror. And like another reviewer my "gob" was "smack[ed]," but not because it was "smutty," though it was smutty, verging on pornagraphic (and not good pornography, either; more like the stuff that people write for free), but because it was so damnably stupid. I haven't read something as bad as this in quite awhile: absurd (again, not the good kind of absurd) plot, overly and unwarrentedly glib style, toneless tone. Just everything. I wouldn't have even finished the book except that I was on vacation (I thought it would make for "light" reading.) and I had nothing else. I won't make a mistake like that again, in case you're worried about that. Good god, what a pile!

[Robert · Rating 4 out of 5]

Although I am a fan of Ned Beauman's novels, I do acknowledge the fact that although his ideas and writing style are excellent, there are dull moments within his books. This is usually when his characters launch into monologues about a topic. I encountered this in his second novel, The Teleportation Accident and the same thing occurs in his debut novel Boxer, Beetle. However I have Glow at home and I pre-ordered his latest novel, Madness is better than Defeat. I know he has an amazing novel in him.

Boxer, Beetle focuses on Kevin, who collects Nazi memorabilia. One day he comes across a mysterious letter, which results in him getting kidnapped, which in turn, leads to a story involving world war II, a boxer , a scientist and his eccentric family and a beetle.

What is Beauman trying to achieve in Boxer, Beetle? a commentary about pre WW II attitudes towards, Eugenics, Jews and homosexuality? or is it just an opportunity to tell a clever, yet fun story? I can't help thinking that it's the latter but that's no problem for me, Boxer, Beetle is a seriously great romp, in which you'll learn quite a few new things in the process.

[Louis · Rating 3 out of 5]

Borderline between 3 and 4. The pacing is not quite right, but in places the writing is great. Parts of the plot don't convince, but it was something quite fresh.

Flawed, but entertaining.

[Robert · Rating 4 out of 5]

You can also find my review of Boxer, Beetle on my book blog.

"Boxer, Beetle" is a novel taking place in two different times: the present day, and the mid 1930s.

In the present day, our first person narrator is a Nazi memorablia collector and odd jobs man for a much richer collector. He's suffering from a genetic condition that makes him smell bad, so he lives most of his life on the internet, except, very little of that is in the novel: we join him as he finds himself tasked with resolving a mystery. Soon, dead bodies are piling up.

Meanwhile, the mystery is all about a short, young Jewish boxer and a scientist passionate about eugenics in the 1930s. This plotline follows the career and ups and downs of the boxer, and the British scientist who wants to use the boxer for experiments. Until he can achieve this aim, he has to contend himself with working on beetles.

The book is pleasantly entertaining, fast-paced and quite readable. It does occasionally allow itself a whopper of purple prose or two, though. Could there ever be a dafter sentence to start a chapter with than "The morning light peeked in through the windows of the mortuary, pasty and trembling like the sort of ghoulish little boy who would rather see a dead girl than a naked one" ?

The plot gets a little crazy, especially towards the end, when all the carefully built up attempts at authenticity go out of the window in favour of a finale that reeks of B-movie scifi. It's a book that wants to be a bit literary, but also pulp fiction, so we get repressed homosexuality, confident homosexuality, a murder mystery, a conspiracy theory thriller, a rise-and-fall chronicle of a boxer's career, a satire (with a lengthy, dialogue heavy conference of fascists, beset by petty personality conflicts and politicking), all in one relatively short book. It might aspire to be literary, but in the end it feels quite shallow: it feels a bit like a Quentin Tarantino movie, though more restrained in the first two thirds of its narrative. The book certainly squeezes a lot of ideas, anecdotes and themes into the novel.

It would be a 3.5 star rating if that were available: quite okay, but not brilliant.

[Jason · Rating 3 out of 5]

Beauman has a thorough command of the English language and a verbose vocabulary. Words do not make a good book; however, stories make good books. And when it comes down to it, the story in Boxer, Beetle is only remotely entertaining. Amidst sexual deviation and remotely connected subplots that made me think Beauman was poorly attempting to emulate Neal Stephenson, the story revolves around a Nazi memorabilia collector who lacks the financial ability to make a true impact or establish a financial safety net. Instead, he's relegated to working for a criminal businessman who has a lead on a Nazi eugenicist with a fondness for beetles and a connection to a Jewish boxer named Seth "Sinner" Roach.

The story bounces back and forth between the past and present, gaining steam when the topic revolves around Nazis, beetles, and boxers, while arduously dragging along the contemporary story like a moored boat revving its engine. Gems, however, often appear within the story, just not frequently enough. Because of the uneven dichotomy, and the general disinterest in all characters, it's difficult to truly become absorbed in the story; instead, thankfully ends in less than 250 pages but feels much longer.

[Trux · Rating 4 out of 5]

Entertaining & unique. I picked it up because the word "HILARIOUS" is on the cover. Plus I like boxing, AND I, too, spent time raising/breeding beetles (warning: that link is to a post about my beetles on my NOT WORK SAFE blog)!

I did LOL a few times at the beginning, but kept reading it for the story and characters and wanting it to just turn into Seth Roach Fucks The World With His Fingers In Its Butthole. I think I loved him the way Evelyn did.

The book feels incomplete to me without Kevin and Stuart buttfucking or at least engaging in mutual masturbation or somehow heading in that direction or even just hinting towards some of that.

A surprisingly(?) endearing read.

Note to Ned: I guess Kevin wouldn't know this, but an "unwashed cunt" often smells pretty good, and is not the same as a cunt with a bacterial infection or a person with trimethylaminuria. My cunt is unwashed at this very moment and smells fantastic (and nothing like fish). Keep up the good work with all of the other genital references, though.

[Julie · Rating 2 out of 5]

Once again I am completely at a loss how to rate this book. A 2.5 maybe? I'm unclear as to the author's thesis and/or purpose, but it contains an odd mix of Nazi memorabilia, boxing, flesh eating beetles, and a fair amount of gay sex. It was not, as the cover blurb advertised, "hilarious." Or "gripping." I did, however, stick with it to the end because I could not for the life of me figure out where it was headed. At least it did eventually reach a conclusion. From here on out I faithfully promise never to pick up any book that has been "short listed" for a literary prize as I am invariably disappointed.

[Boyd · Rating 3 out of 5]

Better in concept than in actuality. Beauman writes wittily and well, and the mash-up of ideas--eugenics and sundry other pathologies physical, intellectual, and political; entomology, urban planning, language, boxing--is piquant, but as a whole the thing doesn't hold up. It reminds me a bit of Tom McCarthy's recent novel C: it's so busy with its own ideas that it forgets about structure and character. (And speaking of characters, the ones here run the gamut from unattractive to repellent.) are But at least C and BOXER, BEETLE *have* ideas. That in itself is something to be grateful for.