A sequel to The Antipope, this is the second novel in "The Brentford Trilogy." All over Brentford electrical appliances were beginning to fail—could it be that it had been chosen as the first base in an alien onslaught on planet Earth?
"When Robert Rankin embarked upon his writing career in the late 1970s, his ambition was to create an entirely new literary genre, which he named Far-Fetched Fiction. He reasoned that by doing this he could avoid competing with any other living author in any known genre and would be given his own special section in WH Smith." (from Web Site Story)
Robert Rankin describes himself as a teller of tall tales, a fitting description, assuming that he isn't lying about it. From his early beginnings as a baby in 1949, Robert Rankin has grown into a tall man of some stature. Somewhere along the way he experimented in the writing of books, and found that he could do it rather well. Not being one to light his hide under a bushel, Mister Rankin continues to write fine novels of a humorous science-fictional nature.
The likable and down to earth characters The dry wit and wry humour. The silly plots. The speed the story passes by. The general warmth and affection the author has for the characters. The good endings. The smile I often have on my face as I leave the books.
This has all the above so why only 2 stars? As I re-read the book after 20 years I noticed a stark racial epithet and a casual and unnecessary moment of homophobia within a few chapters of each other. Now I know characters can have these views just as one can set a book is a misogynist or sexualized society, but in a light and funny book like this one, both felt stark and out of place. Whats worse I could see no purpose to either of them. That aspect of the character made no difference to the story at all. The plot was not moved and there was no need for the hate.
Now I know these are not key parts of the plot, I know they are not repeated but they stood out so much as I read them that they took me right out of the book.
I dropped a star for each one.
I would still recommend Robert Rankin and wonder whether later editions of this book have these lines edited out.
But I read them, and they felt awkward to say the least. They detracted from what should have been a wonder of a book. I'm slightly ashamed to say that I had not noticed them 25 years ago when I first read this book.
Re-read. I feel a little uncomfortable giving this a four. It is largely for the sheer good-naturedness of the plot and silly enjoyment. Perfect for a comfortable holiday read.
Now… uncomfortable because much of the humour, especially that related to race and sexual orientation has not travelled well across the years. I’d hasten to suggest it was not very appropriate even at the time of writing (or setting…?), either.
A good romp though with wildly outlandish plots and characters!
Reading Robert Rankin's books is like having an adventure with crazy friends. Jim Pooley and his friend John Omally, frequent The Flying Swan pub, run by part-time bar man Neville, and it's here that most of their adventures start, (and usually end). Fighting unknown powers of Darkness, putting a stop to evil aliens, with help from Professor Slocombe and Edgar Allan Poe, and Sherlock Holmes, yes uou read it correctly. The Brentford Trilogy is one madcap read, that will have you laughing out loud. I love Rankin just as much as I love Sir Terry Pratchett .
O’Malley, Poole, Professor Slocombe are back to save the world once again. This time the threat seems to be an alien race of Jack Palance clones. Will earth be overrun? Will Jim Poole pay for a drink? Most importantly, will the annual darts tournament proceed as scheduled?
The characters appear to live in purgatory based on the TV series "Last of the Summer Wine". Surprisingly, the stories are rather dull and boring, undermined by the storytelling technique.
The second book of the Brentford Trilogy, in which the natives of Ceres (the fifth planet in the solar system before it exploded and became the asteroid belt) come back to the system and seek a new home. They decide Earth will do, and proceed to invade it. Jim Pooley and John Omally have something to say about that. And so on.
I stand corrected! Upon seeing the cover, I realize I DID finish this one and I think I enjoyed it slightly more than the first one. Slightly. Like I enjoy having a filling, slightly more than I enjoy having an extraction. These things are relevant. So, this was akin to popping the bib on, reclining back, opening wide and trembling at the high-pitched whine of the dentist's drill. Then holding my breath as my attractive, young, female dentist looms over - then proceeds to torture me, spraying water and dislodged bit of tooth all about, while the young dental nurse alongside her, suctions all the debris out with a warm smile.
Antipope was more kin to having about a dozen injections, numbing my mouth up so badly I couldn't speak, then said dentist reaching in with pliers, and a steel screwdriver, and spending what seemed like an hour trying to wrench a molar out. Thankfully she stopped short of putting her knee on my chest for leverage.
I know some people love these books. I think I persevered through this one because I wanted to!
It's basically about an alien invasion, which gets halted by some pub regulars. It was funny in places, but it wasn't a cohesive, gripping story. I may try a re-read if I can find my copy, I may appreciate it more now. At the time, I read it because it was something to read. Everything I said about the Antipope (https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...) applies here too! Yes, there were funny bits, but there were also lots of not so funny bits (At least to me) and this books really relies on it's humor for you to enjoy it.
'And the lights upon the allotment,' said Soap, 'what would you take those to be?' 'The work of the council,' said Omally firmly, 'another plot to confound honest golfers.' Soap burst into a paroxysm of laughter. Tears rolled down his pale cheeks and he clutched at his stomach. 'Come now,' said Pooley, 'it is no laughing matter, these lads have it in for us.' 'Have it in for you?' gasped Soap between convulsions. 'You witness a test run of laser-operated gravitational landing beams, the product of a technology beyond comprehension, and you put it down to the work of Brentford Council?' 'If you will pardon me,' said Pooley, somewhat offended, 'If it is the product of a technology beyond comprehension I hardly feel that I can be blamed for finding it so.' 'Quite', said Omalley.
1) The Antipope 2) The Brentford Triangle 3) East of Ealing 4) The Sprouts of Wrath 5) The Brentford Chainstore Massacre
I decided that I should try to fit in some re-reads of old favourites over the next few months, and I started with The Brentford Trilogy since I've got two linked books on my TBR shelf. I liked book 1 of this series, but it was book 2 that got me hooked. On the surface Brentford may appear to be a normal West London suburb, but it's actually a centre of weirdness and a magnet for the uncanny. So it's lucky that the mysterious Professor Slocombe, and local layabouts Pooley and Omalley are ready to tackle evil whenever it rears its head, with the help of the inventive genius Norman Hartnel, hollow-earther Soap Distant and the other regulars of The Flying Swan pub.
I thought the prose style was like a pub bore, who thinks using too many words makes them sound erudite and witty then BANG! One horrible racist joke and my suspicions were confirmed. Robert Rankin is a total fucking wanker. About three quarters of the through, two howlers in as many pages made me think, fuck this, I'm not reading any more of this trash.
The whole way through bad writing is hidden by too many words. Money isn't money, it's "coin of the realm" (he must have liked that one because it is repeated five or six times). Everything is "the proverbial..." you don't drink a pint, it's a "pint of Large", no one is Irish, they're a "son of Eire" Not funny, or clever, just like a drunk Top Gear presenter.
The first was typical of the book. The phrase, all the tea in China, already a dull cliche, is made more irritating by drawing attention to it and making it wordier by turning it into "all the lapsang souchong south of the Yellow River" but on the next page was a howler so bad I had to put the book down. Bearing in mind this book was first published in 1982, and this line is said by the narrator, not a character, the words used are not relevant to the story, so to my ears this is a totally unacceptable racist remark. A dog, instead of having a good sense of smell could, "smell a n***** in a woodpile with his nose bandaged."
I really wanted to like this book because I grew up in Brentford, right outside the Brentford triangle, and I love anything about aliens, but it's so annoying and I had to put it down, also there's no women in it. Utter shit.
This time Brentford is invaded by aliens, and only our intrepid pub goers can stop them. Oh, and win a darts match at the same time. This feels like a complete story compared to the first novel. There's quite a lot of fun moments where Omally tries to keep things normal no matter what happens. I like the idea of allotment golf. A fun, light hearted good read.
The Brentford Triangle - apparently composed at least in part from material cut from The Antipope - continues the (initially) laid-back adventures of Jim Pooley and John Omally as they drink their way through the week at The Flying Swan. "Allotment golf" needs to become an Olympic sport as soon as reasonably convenient for all concerned.
The events of The Antipope are occasionally mentioned, but only when strictly necessary (ie, to explain Soap Distant's dramatic reappearance beneath Penge, which I've heard is a very nice place though I've never been there myself), so there's no need to read this series in order. Which is just as well, as I personally started with book 5, then read more or less straight through to book 10, then back to 1, and then jumped forward for 11 and 12 before finally coming back to 2.
As with The Antipope, Rankin's writing is confident, witty, and just a dash more literary than later volumes. In the 1990 compendium edition I read, there are a few words that one would not include in a book today, to put it mildly, but I'm sure they will have been excised in the more recent re-editings.
Having previously read Rankin's non-Brentford works, I'm thoroughly enjoying my crash course in the Brentford Trilogy, and sad that I only have a couple still to go!
The Brentford Triangle is a stand-alone entry in to the myriad of novels that Rankin has centered around Brentford. The series hasn't really evolved much. They are still full of running gags, wry humour, clever prose and a multitude of oddball characters. The central characters are no stereotypical heroes, if anything their adventures happen to them, which of course is the lure of Rankin's work. The plot in Triangle is absurd, the action incredulous and it's a short enough read to keep it punchy. It's not as clever as later entries, but it's definitely worth a read, if you've any or none of Rankin's work you'll still enjoy this wacky, but not slapstick book.
Published in 1982 and very much of its time and place. Pratchett, Adams and Rankin were all writing and creating at about the same time and apparently shared fascinations with 80s pop culture (than which nothing dated faster), and this book is full of the references. Space Invaders of more than one sort, darts tournaments down the local, rather boring satanists and even Edgar Allen Poe...to say nothing of the camel. And not to mention The Midwich Cuckoos, who smell of creosote.
Probably more popular with the lads than the ladies. I'm still looking for the volume that made me laugh so hard when I found it in the British Institute library.
Robert Rankin is an endearingly silly fellow. The plot here is utterly ridiculous but weirdly engaging. It involves such silly elements as a displaced Egyptian camel, a pyramid that some shadowy figures hope to place in Brentford, and even a missing planet named Ceres. There is a two page riot scene that had me howling with laughter. Rankin has this great knack for comic escalation and considering every angle of his WTF premises. And this is likely why I'm fated to read all of his very silly books. I also liked the long-winded professor. Rankin has given us a colorful cast of characters and a fantastical premise like no other. He's one of the good weirdos.
Although the story is more coherent than "The Antipope," this tale of allotment golf and creosote-smelling aliens isn't as funny and all I really got out of it was to use the 'London borough magically cut off' trope in my own "Long Summer of Hammersmith," although in that case it was only a few individuals who couldn't leave town. A comment elsewhere here gave me pause: Rankin is a fan of Flann O'Brien and all these Brentford novels, set in a non-specific past and including bicycles and Weird Science, are very reminiscent of The Third Policeman. Suppose it's a similar situation?
I read this book for the first time more than 30 years ago, and I thought it was brilliant. So why change it ? I don't like gratuitous swearing in books any more than in real life BUT swapping the stream of invective for made up words hinting at swearing took something away from the book and like the Cerean navigator in the original edition, I thought . . . F*ck Me !
I enjoyed this better than the first one, perhaps some familiarity with the characters helped. Still not in my 4 star category, but getting closer. It was a very quick read, following on from the Antipope it only took me a few days, although I have not done much else other than relax around the house these few days.
The Brentford Triangle was pretty amusing: the story was entertaining, the characters bordering on the bizarre and the puns were funny. However, it was lacking originality if you’ve read any Brentford books before.
It would be three stars if it weren't for the numerous homophobic passages, and a completely random use of a racial slur that was so jarring it made me check when this was published/printed. Even with that aside, I find these a bit blokey...
A return to Rankin’s beloved Brentford, where Pooley and Omally find themselves saving Brentford from…well, I won’t spoil it for you, go and read it for yourself. Rankin’s second novel is the best he has ever written.