Minister for Asylum Deterrence and Foreign Investment, Peter Ruddick, is en route to the remote Pulcherrima Island, the site of his latest privately-run, fast food chain-inspired detention centre. But chaos ensues when Peter misses his connecting flight and finds himself confined to the visa-free zone of the Turgrael airport, without a business lounge in sight.
Stranded in a foreign territory with nothing but McKing's Crispy Chicken burgers to eat and nobody but a bleeding heart liberal, his seat-mate Jeremy Bernard for company, Peter's misunderstandings of Turgistani language and culture result in his arrest on suspicion of terrorism, perversion, and espionage.
Peter has always had the power to get away with just about anything, but how will he sweet talk his way out of this one? What if he winds up - like those in his centres - indefinitely detained?
'Hilarious' and 'powerful', Number Eight Crispy Chicken is a carefully researched, funny, and thought-provoking read for fans of the social novels of Tressell, Orwell, Dickens, and Vonnegut.
Grab your copy of Number Eight Crispy Chicken today, because this is one trip you won't want to miss!
'Super smart and funny... straddles social commentary and humour perfectly.' - Ava January, author longlisted for the Richell prize
'I have never been transitioned from hatred to empathy more skillfully by an author. It cuts away all artifice and ideology to expose the raw but crispy human in each of us.' - Dr. Joanne Sullivan
'I couldn't stop reading. Peter was really entertaining to watch and I absolutely loved Jeremy... The ending was very intense. Very 1984. I absolutely loved it.' - K.T. Egan, author of All You Hold On To
Sarah Neofield grew up in regional South Australia before living in Japan for a year. Always fascinated by language, she completed a PhD in applied linguistics in 2010. She has written extensively on the topics of intercultural communication, how we communicate online, and language learning.
At the age of 30, Sarah resigned from her position as a university lecturer to travel, and since has visited over 60 countries. She blogs about the connection between language, money, and social justice at enrichmentality.com, and about reading, writing, and creativity at sarahneofield.com
As far as I can see this is Sarah Neofield’s debut novel and what a way to start. Using her travel and blogging background she has produced Number Eight Crispy Chicken, an excellent political satire which covers migration and asylum which are two of the major concerns in today’s world. The countries in the book are fictional but Peter’s Furtivus could be either Noefield’s native Australia, the USA or the UK.
Despite her inexperience as a novelist Neofield has been very brave. Although told in the third person we follow the story through Peter’s mind. For most of the book he is the sole character, his only interaction being with assorted officials who he sees as nothing more than officious obstacles. The second character, Jeremy, features briefly but of course we only view him through Peter’s eyes so are we viewing him objectively?
It was not difficult to recognise the character of Peter, most of us can remember politicians like him. Clearly he is an expert in diplomacy and political wheeler-dealing yet he is unworldly, showing a lack of many basic skills. These shortcomings cause him to realise just how difficult life is for those migrants that his department has responsibility for.
At times Peter’s mishaps seem a little contrived and too slapstick but others are hilarious. Neofield also shows great writing skills, especially where she fills several engrossing pages describing a five minute delay in getting service. And if you feel that mid-way the story is going a bit slow then bear with it; once you reach the final third it will fly forward at such a pace the book will be finished before you know it, with quite a few surprises along the way.
So does Peter’s nightmare change his views? Well, you can only find out by reading Number Eight Crispy Chicken for yourself. As I write this review the paperback is available and the ebook is due for release in two weeks’ time. If you should need any more encouragement to buy it then look at the short video on Sarah Neofield’s website.
I don’t often fly but the next time I do Number Eight Crispy Chicken will be on my mind. For its thought provoking entertainment I have awarded a full five stars.
I am writing this review as a member of Rosie’s Book Review Team (authors, if you’re looking for reviews, I recommend you check her amazing site here), and I thank her and the author for providing me an ARC copy of this book that I freely chose to review. By the way, personalising the ARC copy for the reviewer is a particularly nice touch. Thanks! I was intrigued by the description, the title (oh, that title), and also the cover of this book. The topic is one that interests me, and I’m sure I’m one among many who have become increasingly alarmed by the situation of asylum seekers all over the world. Although due to my location I’m more familiar with the happenings in the Mediterranean area, this book set in a fictional country (although most readers will reach their own conclusions as to the author’s inspiration for Furtivus, and she openly discusses it on her website) highlights the fact that things are not that different elsewhere (or perhaps that the differences are more cosmetic than substantial). It’s difficult to discuss the merits of this book separately from its subject. As a politico-social satire, the beauty is in the way it sends up the situation and it pulls up a distorting mirror to the main character, Peter, who is a composite of the worst “qualities” of politicians and public figures whose take on the subject of the asylum seekers’ plight is the hardest of hard-lines and, on top of that, don’t hesitate on personally profiting from the issue (and not only at a political level). I’ve talked before about books whose main character is nasty and despicable, and how reader might find it counterintuitive at first, but in this genre of political satire, this is to be expected. If you’re looking for a book where you can identify and cheer the main character, and you want a hero to follow, please, don’t read this book. Peter is thoroughly dislikeable. The author chooses to tell the story in the third-person, and although at times we are offered an omniscient (observer’s) point of view, which gives us a bit of a break from being inside of Peter’s head (and his rather disgusting body as well) while at the same time clarifying things and giving us an outsiders perspective, most of the time we experience things from Peter’s point of view, and let me tell you, both mentally and physically, it is not a nice place to be. There are other characters and even one, Jeremy, who is the complete opposite to Peter, and most readers will like, but they don’t play a big part in the story, and although in the case of Jeremy, he is there to show that other options and points of view exist, for the most part we don’t know them in their own right, as true people, but only as obstacles or points of friction for Peter, and that is at it should be, because it reflects perfectly the policies the real-life counterparts of the protagonist formulate and/or adhere to. Only this time he is not in charge, and he does not like it one little bit. There is a fair amount of telling in the book (the character is forever running his schemes in his mind, feeling self-important and thinking about his “achievements”, and later on, feeling sorry for himself); the author is wonderfully descriptive when it comes to explaining what is happening in Peter’s body, how he sees things, and there are many moments when the books is almost cinematic (oh, the dreaded red buttons, and the feel of his clothes as they degenerate over 24 hours). Peter is a man who judges others by their appearance, and he is very fastidious when we meet him, moaning at everything that is not right to his liking. Self-centred doesn’t quite capture the degree of his egotism, and the little bits of personal information we gather from his rambling mind do nothing to justify his inflated sense of ego. The plot of the story is simple, and it is clearly explained in the description. Imagine what would happen if somebody who is responsible for making decisions about the refugee policy in a country (and let’s say his policies are less than generous and welcoming), ended up detained at an airport in a foreign country who does not recognise his status, does not accept his money, does not speak his language (or barely), and, basically, does not care an iota about him and does not see him as a person but as a nuisance repeatedly trying to get into the country uninvited. If you think that sounds like he’s got his comeuppance, well, you’d be right, and if you, like me, think that going through a bureaucratic Kafkian nightmare must be hell, I’d recommend you read this book. The book is not a page-turner in the usual sense. There are many moments in the book when time drags for Peter, and Neofield makes this experience vivid to the reader. Many things happen in the book, but a lot of it is also spent waiting for the nightmare to end. Let me tell you that I loved the ending, that although understated, I thought was perfect. The novel is full of quotable moments, but one of my favourites must be a conversation when Peter is trying to explain to the security guards (and it’s not his first encounter with the woman in charge) the nature of the blueprints he carries. The fragment is too long to share in its totality, but I thought I’d give you a taster of it, and also of the reply of the guard (whom I love). ‘It’s our Offshore Processing Centre.’ ‘What that?’ ‘It’s where illegal immigrants-‘ ‘You mean refugee?’ ‘No, boat people. Queue jumpers.’ The guard’s English was even poorer than Peter had realised, if he had to explain the difference. ‘It’s where they are held for processing.’ ‘You process their claim?’ ‘Well, not exactly-‘ ‘What you do?’ ‘Mainly we just hold them there.’ ‘Ah, yes. We had also. Long time ago. Concentration camp. This electric fence, no?’ ‘No, no. It’s a Courtesy Fence. And it’s not a camp. It’s a Concentration Centre. I mean, Detention Centre. I mean, Processing Centre.’… The conversation carries on for a while, but I had to share the guard’s summing up of her understanding of the situation (after she tells him he must have taken drugs because of the type of things he is saying): ‘Then why you talk crazy? This,’ she said, pointing back at the plans, ‘is not a picture of house. Is tent. This,’ she rolled up the blueprint and slammed it on the desk, ‘is not process centre if you no process. And four year is not ‘temporary’.’ Be this a warning to all spin doctors. The novel’s description already mentions some writers that might come to mind on reading this book. As a political satire, Swift comes to mind, and I must say that the main character and some of his problems reminded me of the protagonist of Ian McEwan Solar, at least in the early part of the book. And the fixation of the character with his belongings reminded me as well of Bret Easton Ellis’s American Psycho. But you can read it and make up your own mind about it. I recommend it to people interested in the subject of the politics of immigration and seeking asylum in many Western countries, especially if looking for a critical and analytical take on it, which is at the same time sharply and painfully funny and entertaining. You’ll love to hate Peter, and the book is particularly suitable for book clubs, as there is much to discuss and mull over, both in the book itself and in the subject it deals with. The author even offers a guide for readers belonging to book clubs and shares some of the sources she used as an inspiration, and you can access them here. I don’t know what the author plans to write in the future, but I’ll be keeping a close eye on her, and I hope plenty of people read this book, and it makes them think.
I loved this debut book! Peter is hilarious! I too look forward to the business class perks 🍷🥂when I travel! I found it to be entertaining on many levels-his avoidance tactics 🤣sending an email with no attachment and then implementing his email Responder-genius really! The light approach to government regulations gives it some more depth & humor as well! Feeling honored to receive a copy -thank you Sarah! You have a gift! A sequel is needed for sure! I highly recommend!
From page one, I hated Peter. He embodied everything that is wrong with the world now; the unethical use of power for selfish gain. There's no way I was going to like the guy or feel pity him, but 66% into the book after laughing hard inside an airplane from New Orleans to Columbus, I started to feel bad for the guy. Number Eight Crispy Chicken delved into the sensitive and all too real subject of out of touch politicians and the hurtful policies they create with a mixture of sarcasm, slapstick comedy, and harsh realism. I equated to a Hawaiian pizza, savory. Note: I love Hawaiian pizza. Page after page, I swam inside Peter's mind and found a man broken inside by his actions, yet unable to see or accept his misgivings. It was just too easy for Peter to blame others or excuse his behavior. It was his horrible ex, ungrateful children, or only a career progression move towards his dream job as the Ministry of Sports. So he went on with blaming others. What a mess of a character! But so realistic. Gosh! How I enjoyed the way, Sarah, weaved Karma so beautifully into the story. She forced Peter's throat open and shoved a crapload of his own medicine down his mouth by stranding him in Turgistan International Airport during a 48hr hellish layover. His money is no good, language is not understood, the food is harsh on his stomach, and he looks a mess. Everyone and I mean everyone looks at him like----Wait for it---- an unwanted refugee. Karma is not a bitch. She's pure poetic justice. His brain doesn't link the lines between his predicament and that of the boat people who cross an ocean for a chance of a better life in Furtivus.
Note: Peter is the minister of immigration and refugee of his country Furtivus and has pushed a policy that imprisons asylum seekers for an indefinite time in camps.
Again Peter points the finger when he finds himself stranded in Turgistan. He blames his inept assistant for booking him on the flight, and the country for not giving him preferential treatment. After all, don't they know who he is?! He is incorrigible and blinder than a bat during daylight. Not even when the extreme liberal with his pink cardigan and social justice stickers on his laptop bag walks into the story, does Peter realize the error of his ways. Not even when Pink Cardigan shows him kindness without strings attached by lending him slippers, and a pair of pajama pants after Peter rips his own. I wanted Peter to change so badly. I think more than he did. I was sure this would happen during the breakfast tete-a-tete with Pink Cardigan, who made Peter answer the tough question of 'why.' But he replied with his same ol' rhetoric that worked well with his constituents and work-buddies. Hearing it out loud and bounced off a humanitarian lawyer (Pink Cardigan) made him uncomfortable, and he bolted. He didn't finish his number eight crispy chicken and ran to the gate, leaving Pink Cardigan with his laptop bag. At the gate, they do an awkward exchange of laptop bags, and Peter is left to deal with his demons. Gosh, how I wanted him to get it at the end. But it wouldn't be realistic. In real life, it takes more than one chance encounter to change, plus we all know the person has to want to change for it to happen. Towards the end of the book, not only did I found myself looking for more pages to read about Peter, but I felt pity, rising inside. The poor joker has to live with the thought that there is something not quite right, but unable to put his finger on it because he can't take a hard look at himself. Imagine being in those shoes? Seeing the plight of refugees and immigrants on the news have saddened, frustrated, and angered me, but reading it through Sarah's lens zoomed in on a fictional government official entertained me and helped me to see how anyone can get stuck in a rut of any organization. As a savvy underachiever, Peter found ways to do little and get paid, blame refugees for the economic problems in his country, and get compensated on top of his pay. He found the way to live wealthy, so why wouldn't he continue? (Because it's at the expense of others--->that's the answer) If you want to laugh your buns off and give a productive thought to the current affairs that affect all of us (directly or indirectly), read this book! Like yesterday.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I couldn’t have chosen a better time to read Number Eight Crispy Chicken by Sarah Neofield. Between the political climate in the US recently and the two books I read prior to this (one, a societal satire, the other a non-fiction about certain political policies) this book formed a trifecta. From the opening pages, it is obvious that Neofield is well-informed and did her research, because even though the characters and places are fictional, the truth rang through loudly: something has to give.
Aside from the humorous storyline of Furtivian Minister for Asylum Deterrence and Foreign Investment Peter Ruddick missing a flight and being stuck in an airport, we see many reflections of reality in this book. The demonization of the lower classes, the elitism regarding government property, the meaningless three word slogans used to brainwash people, the misuse of taxpayer dollars, and the privatization of social programs. (That’s just to name a few.) The Furtivian government is structured like a high school hierarchy, right down to the Minister of Sport being the most desirable position to attain. Appointments are based on anything but skill, and the people vote against a person, not for them.
We see the slow unraveling of Peter throughout the story as he has to deal with a system that is similar to some of the systems he puts into place at his detention centers and supports in his country. Peter gets a taste of his own medicine, and it’s a pill that he cannot swallow. Neofield is sure to always keep an eye on the time, while also bringing up the amount of time Peter’s refugees stay in detention, and it’s amazing to think that the man who promotes these lengthy “sentences” can’t even hang in an airport for nearly one day. To ground the story, Peter is paired up with his polar opposite, Jeremy (aka Cardigan) who further schools Peter in the error of his policies, and in this one character, we see a shining example of how things should be.
I look forward to another highly intelligent novel by this author in the future!
You can keep your perfect characters, your heroes that overcome unsurmountable odds, your underdogs that rise up, fight the good fight, and win! Give me your jerks, your human monsters, your straight-up terrible people instead. And don’t, I repeat, DON’T save them. Peter is the perfect character to hate. He is a complete prick, through and through. From chapter one, I couldn’t wait for terrible things to happen to him! A typical conservative politician, Peter is personally responsible for a whole lot of hurt in the world, as he profits off of the displacement of people. The plane could crash and he could be the only one to perish and no one would be sad, but that wouldn’t make for a very good novel, now would it? In Number Eight Crispy Chicken, Sarah Neofield has crafted a powerful political satire in a neat little package, a perfectly bungled, beautifully wrapped gift of poetic justice. In the course of twenty-four hours, and using nothing more than a flight and a couple of mundane airports, she puts Peter through a very posh and privileged version of what the refugees he vilifies go through. And he absolutely disintegrates. I really enjoyed this book and how the main character remains true. He never sees the irony in his inability to survive being detained a single day versus what he puts refugees through. He’s a terrible person through and through and Neofield’s authentic storytelling doesn’t try to sugarcoat this with some unbelievable redemption story at the end. Instead, Peter gets exactly what’s coming to him.
This is a political satire that will have you cringing, chuckling, rolling your eyes, and sniggering in self-satisfaction all at once. The main character, Peter Ruddick, the Minister for Asylum Deterrence and Foreign Investment in Furtivus, is traveling to Pulcherrima Island but finds his journey a bit trying, to say the least. Anything that could go wrong, did, in fact, go wrong, and with any other traveler you would feel sorry for them. Peter, though, does not deserve much sympathy. He is a jumped up, arrogant, smug and self inflated individual, who barely has a redeeming bone in his body. To be honest, I don’t think I could even name one.
Peter’s trials will make you shudder and thank your lucky stars you (hopefully) haven’t experienced a similar kind of hold up during any of your travels. Missing connecting flights, having to stay the night in a hotel without the most basic of your own belongings, not knowing the language, customs, or social behavior of a foreign country would be hard for even the most seasoned traveler, but in Peter’s case, his view of himself and the world around him only serves to make his life even more of a misery during his unplanned stay at the airport in Turgrael, Turgistan. His saving grace should have been one of his fellow passengers, Jeremy, but the disdain he feels for the man he believes is beneath him, might just be his undoing. At least he can rely on Number Eight Crispy Chicken at McKing’s Burgers to live up to its own standards. Every time.
This book pulls together all the unpleasant characters of us as people, and creates an individual who is very hard to like. As a government minister that personality comes to the forefront and Peter uses it to make the lives of refugees and asylum seekers even more horrendous than they already are. Through him, the government shirks its responsibilities, deceives the public and lies to itself regarding immigration practices and the cost to its citizens, and the toll it takes on the people they detain for “processing”.
This should be read by the many, and discussed even more. The countries may be fictitious but the problems aren’t, and even though it seems to draw immigration policies from several countries, there is one nation where much of this is actually happening today. It may be exaggerated here but that doesn’t make it any less true, and unpleasant to think about. With the way our world looks today we all need to think hard, and talk about, how we want to be seen, heard and perceived by those less fortunate. No one leaves their country, home, family and friends behind for an uncertain future without an extremely good reason. In many cases, that reason is, quite simply, survival.
Never before have I been introduced to an individual that I’ve hated, and loved, so much. And loved that I hated, hated that I loved, loved that I hated I loved, hated that I loved I hated, hated that I loved and hated, and loved that I hated and loved him. I think. Meh, you know what I mean. Right? Right.
Final words; read, reflect, discuss, and at least try to act, in any way you can, however small.
I picked this for my book club because it was different than our usual read and had very high ratings. While I am sure there will be a lot to discuss, this just was not the type of book I am used to reading. I get the author's point, and it was very eye-opening, but I found it "wordy". It felt like there was a lot of detail for such a short book. I also keep seeing it as being hilarious, yet I didn't feel that way. For example, the main character is about as unlikable as you can get...and gross. In my opinion, it is a very good book discussion book, and I am sure our discussion will be lively. So, even though it wasn't for me, I do recommend it for book clubs.
I had the honor of reading this phenomenal book when it was still in draft form, and am still blown away by this fantastic piece of social commentary. Neofield is a master with words, and her witty writing pulled me in to a whole new world. Number Eight Crispy Chicken was, in its simplest form, socially enriching experience and a book I highly recommend for anyone who is a fan of quips, airports, and fried chicken.
I thoroughly enjoyed Sarah Neofield's book 'Number Eight Crispy Chicken'. Kudos to the author for tackling such a demanding issue as refugees in an engaging, intelligent, and humorous way. The deliciously told story made me giggle and cry. The fictitious humiliating events that happened to the main character, politician Peter, reflect so well on the real-life tragedy of asylum seekers. He deserved his punishment, and I felt satisfied when I saw a tiny little shift in his behavior at the end of the story. That is just how life works. If you don't change, then something happens to force the change. Great book!
This is a good story, although more like English satire than some books I have read. You have to smile at the antics Peter Ruddick gets into. He is headed to Pulcherrima Island, a remote place where Peter wants to run a fast food type detention center. Nothing seems to go Peter's way and thus, the adventure begins. Although at times the difference in English spelling made reading a but more difficult, this is a fun read.
‘Number Eight Crispy Chicken’ is set in the modern world grappling with immigration issues and developed nations exploiting the underdeveloped. I liked the subject of this book and the way it is dealt with in a satirical manner by the author. Peter is the Minister for Asylum Deterrence and Foreign Investment in Furtivus, we are in a fictional landscape. But, of course, affected by real issues, one of them being deterring the immigrants from reaching Furtivian soil. It is, indeed, a peep into the personality of people in power, their arrogance, and indifference in general. There is a complete turn around of events as Peter is stranded at Turgistan airport, an unfriendly stop-over which is a nightmare. If you are someone keen on political news and world affairs then this is definitely a great book for you.
It’s difficult to write satire today when the news trumps the most farcical scenarios. Number Eight Crispy Chicken pulls this off with the misadventures of Peter, a government official for the fictional country of Furtivus (a stand-in for Australia), as he flies to the third-world country of Pulcherrima where he plans to build one of his fast-food inspired “detention centers” for migrants. When he misses a connecting flight, he winds up getting stuck in Turgistan with Jeremy, a man he once called “Cardigan,” a lawyer who is his personal and political opposite.
While Peter reeks of privilege and bureaucratic self-importance, his situations are relatable, especially to anyone having to travel to another country and deal with security and busy restrooms. Peter has the veneer of success, but the underpinnings of failure with a recent divorce, weight and digestive problems, and a broken tooth. We can grimace at his callous outlook and ambitions, but we also admit to the same problems, prejudices, and failings. We can also take pleasure from the payback he suffers from the way he is treated by the employees at the Turgistani airport. Peter’s woes lead to a satisfactory end where he gets the ultimate comeuppance for his attitudes and actions.
There are a few preachy moments where he gets into a debate with Jeremy, but the story of a strange man stuck in a strange land keeps you reading to the end.
For me, this book rates the attention and acclaim reserved for satires written by George Orwell and Charles Dickens.
I love how the author captured the essence of Peter, an affluent Prime Minister who fully believes his childhood struggles equaled that of the poor. Image is everything. The only way to make it big is by exuding confidence and stepping on those who don’t move out of the way.
Reservations had been made, blueprints rolled and secured tightly in its tube. Through no fault of his own, Peter misses his connecting flight to yet another prestigious meeting.
This story tells of Peter and his painful experience while waiting for his connecting flight. Like when growing up, his hardships are magnified by a fellow passenger less than deserving of Peter’s attention.
I wonder if Peter ever sees the similarities between his experiences and what his Centres are doing to those searching for a better life.
Number Eight Crispy Chicken is the debut novel from Australian writer Sarah Neofield. It begins with Peter Ruddick, the immigration minister from the fictional country of Furtivus, on his way to Pulcherrima, another fictional country, where he is to present his proposal for a franchise of refugee detention centres. He is perfectly suited for such an undertaking. Having worked for years in the Furtivian government he has the technical expertise, and being just an awful person, he possesses all the detestable attributes needed to see his vision realized. Before he can get to Pulcherrima, however, he has a layover in Turgistan but misses his flight and has to spend the day and night at the mercy of the airport staff. He doesn’t speak the language or understand the customs. In fact, since he only thought he’d be passing through, he never bothered to learn exactly where on the planet this country is. This is no ordinary airport terminal, however. The level of apathy and in some cases outright disdain the staff display for Peter and the atrocious quality of everything from the food to the hotel bed makes one think less of brightly lit, modern airports and more of, well, a detention facility. The circumstances are bad enough for most people but Peter is also debilitatingly overweight, has an enlarged prostate which prevents him from producing more than a few trickles of urine, offensive body odor, and over the course of the book procures a broken tooth and a cracked toenail. Physically he is falling apart while morally he’s already in bits. Although Peter is forced into a situation that mirrors the situation he’s responsible for putting countless desperate refugees in, he’s also someone who has self-isolated well before the book starts. He hasn’t talked to his children in months. He is divorced. And he treats anyone he deems beneath his status as objects, which is exemplified by the names he gives those he comes in contact with, often dehumanizing them and reducing them merely to certain articles of clothing. The security agent is Dirty Gloves, the man who sits next to him is Cardigan. Having achieved some success in politics, he fancies himself well above most other people. But this elevation brings him no joy, only anger when he feels he isn’t being treated the way he is convinced he should be. For him, being elevated above others is the most important pursuit even if it brings him no happiness. His attempts to reject certain groups of people in an attempt to be associated with others makes him isolated from both. In contrast, the character Jeremy (initially referred to as Cardigan), a humanitarian lawyer who shares a number of traits with Peter, is more or less content with the situation in which he finds himself. He sleeps soundly in the hotel room; he is happy with being upgraded to first class on the flight; and he seems to have no qualms about having to eat the only item his meal voucher gets him, the titular number eight crispy chicken. His contentment with a situation that is identical to Peter’s is because he knows the situation is a temporary one, and he doesn’t expect to be treated differently from other passengers because of his social status. He sees himself as an equal to others or even more privileged than them but doesn’t believe his privilege is the result of deserving more than others. He is thrilled with being upgraded to first class because it is a treat he doesn’t often get to enjoy. He doesn’t believe that by being upgraded he is somehow being moved to a higher status than the rest. He sees it as it is – a happy result of overbooking. Because of his perspective in life he is able to appreciate it for the short time it lasts. Peter also has a clear understanding of the world but uses his understanding to profit from it at the expense of others. He believes he is deserving of the perks his privilege affords him and that others less fortunate are there for him to exploit. This book is also very funny. Anyone who enjoys frequent laughs with their social commentary would do themselves a favour by picking up a copy for themselves. But the humour isn’t tacked on as a way to help the more difficult bits go down. It’s humour that emerges quite naturally from a clash between the indefensible worldview of the protagonist and the environment in which he so unfortunately finds himself. This allows Neofield to reveal to the reader the inherent absurdity in Peter’s worldview, and by extension the worldview of those people who Peter represents in the real world. This is satire at its finest. The only issue with this book that I think is worth mentioning is the in-your-face nature of the commentary. This book is not subtle at all. Normally I would be far more critical of this but considering the subject matter of this book, it seems that Neofield clearly wanted to make sure anyone reading it could be armed with the appropriate information needed to address the issues the book explores. The explicitness of the explanations, it could be argued, is necessary when understanding that the message of the book is intended to have real world applications. She wants people to read this book and have no question about what real world issues she is pointing to. To be educated while laughing, and after putting the book down to have a clearer understanding of the people being victimised for profit by government systems that work hand in hand with cynical opportunists. I very much recommend this book to anyone who wants a laugh, but also who wants to see exposed the cynicism, hypocrisy, and cruelty of many western nations’ refugee policies (among many other issues she explores which I had no time to get into in this review). Neofield is clearly a writer who has studied the issues explored in this book exhaustively and in addition to the outrage anyone with a conscience should feel she couldn’t help but also shake her head with astonishment at the farce her research exposed.
I thoroughly enjoyed reading Sarah's first novel. It is very well written and drips with satire throughout. As I progressed through the book, I wasn't sure whether the short sections of pure political dialogue sit comfortably next to the humour; but it soon became clear that this doesn't matter, given the clarity and intensity of Sarah's writing. This book will be enjoyed by anyone who gets satisfaction from reading about politicians "hoist with their own petard", whether they have citizenship of "Furtivus" (like myself) or not. And those who have experienced the stress of using airports. So, that's pretty much everyone then; the satire can be universally applied. All in all, a great first effort by this new author.
What a roller coaster! As someone who is not particularly political and, so it seems, quite ignorant of immigration issues, I would probably have given this a miss. Yet, the bright cover was intriguing, and the promise of satire made me do a u-turn. And, boy was there satire! At certain points I almost felt sorry for the main character, almost. Sarah writes his personality so brilliantly that, know matter what he goes through, you can't help but feel he somewhat deserves what's coming to him. Reading Number Eight Crispy Chicken made me laugh and cringe in equal measure, and I will certainly be making sure I am across every minute detail of my itinerary next time I fly.
I LOVED this book. Anybody can tackle difficult subjects, but Sarah Neofield wrote a wonderful satire that felt so real at some points it was hard to laugh when it was light hearted. This is the perfect book for the times we live in. As despicable as the main character was, he was written so well that I came to care for him. I’m excited for her next book, because she finds the perfect blend of humor and drama, entertaining you, but also making you think in the process.
Every air-traveler has a story of the flight from hell. Delays, missed connections, lost baggage, a middle seat between a screaming baby and an obese person with body odor, etc. As awful as your story may be, it cannot top Peter Ruddick’s ordeal in Australian writer Sara Noefield’s irreverent satire “Number Eight Crispy Chicken.”
As the Minister for Asylum Deterrence and Foreign Investment in the sovereign nation of Furtivus, Peter is accustomed to travelling in luxury. He is thus mildly irritated when he notices that his flight to the island of Pulchurrima will be punctuated by a stopover in the hinterlands of Turgrael, Turgistan.
Peter’s business in Pulchurrima is urgent, for this underdeveloped country is the perfect location for the next privatized franchise of refugee detention centers. He is proud of having conceived of this as a practical and profitable strategy for managing refugees seeking asylum in Furtivus. Not only that, but it has the political advantage serving to, “pull Furtivians’ attention away from the numerous challenges facing the nation by way of the changing environment and economy, for which they [the government] had no solutions, and neatly refocusing them on the tiny handful of people arriving in Furtivus by boat.”
And, slyly, Peter has complete faith in “the willingness of the downtrodden to turn on one another when given the slightest provocation, and his ability to give them that provocation.”
When Peter misses his connecting flight, though, he becomes stranded in the Turgrael airport. There, his odyssey is plagued by mishaps, mistakes, and misfortunes. He knows not a word of the language. He loses his expensive Triple Platinum Diamond Hubris Excalibur wristwatch. He is denied a visa to leave the airport. He is shocked to learn that his money and even his Gold Patriot International Express card are useless. He chips a tooth, breaks a toenail, spills hot coffee on his crotch, gets caught in the wrong restroom, is arrested as a suspected terrorist, and, perhaps worst of all, has no meal choice other than Number Eight Crispy Chicken at the only fast food restaurant in the airport. On top of that, he is hounded at every step by a pro-bono humanitarian lawyer who, infuriatingly, treats him with kindness and respect.
The sharpest satire straddles the boundary between reality and absurdity, and Noefield walks the line admirably. While Peter and his ilk hide behind plausible deniability, the author herself takes aim with deniable plausibility. That is, while readers understand implicitly that any similarity between fictional characters and real ones is “purely coincidental,” they also recognize that these coincidences reveal underlying truths nobody dares admit. Consider Peter’s scheme that:
“Children made the perfect bargaining chips. Every time Peter or one of his parliamentary pals needed to pass some unpopular new law regarding asylum seekers, they merely had to promise to let the children go – or threaten to lock even more up. Crossbenchers were then left with an impossible decision – to support legislation which would result in worse treatment of even more asylum seekers in the future in order to let the children currently incarcerated go free, or to vote against it in the interest of future asylum seekers but to the detriment of those currently locked up. It was perfect.”
Nobody could be that cynical, right? And yet, it explains a lot.
Noefield’s wit and irony are sharp throughout, save for one long passage in which Peter debates the humanitarian lawyer, and loses point after point to the do-gooder’s impeccable logic. Readers don’t need to be lectured on the fraud and hypocrisy of Peter’s political agenda, for humor accomplishes that objective better than any amount of rational dialectic.
That quibble notwithstanding, “Number Eight Crispy Chicken” is a biting lampoon of populist political ideologies which, unfortunately, are all too prevalent in today’s world.
This book will be championed by people who lean left in politics (Democrats/liberals). You will nod your head in agreement at many points made. Those who lean right (Republicans/Conservatives) will likely hate it and see it as propaganda. If you're in the middle, it will be just alright. It's a shame. The story is well written. It's a cross between the movies Gridlocked and The Terminal. If you removed the political undertones, it would still work for many people. I mean, who hasn't felt the tedium of the red tape of bureaucracy? However, the author clearly made it known which side of the political spectrum was right, so the other two groups won't get the same experience as those who agree. The rest of my review will contain mild spoilers.
The Good. The story is an excellent metaphor for immigration reform and policies. Getting stuck in the airport of an absolutely foreign country checks all the appropriate boxes. There are many smaller metaphors used throughout the story that are equally brilliant.
I like the term the POV character, Peter, used with regards to his own writing: legal fiction. It brought a smile to my face.
The names used were quirky. McKing and Guano especially stood out. One that may be seen as awesome or insulting is Peter's policy H84CE (read it as Hate Force).
The tedium of airline travel is perfectly depicted. Too perfectly. I got a little annoyed too at the slow pace.
Cardigan was a fun character for most of the story. Once he becomes a person instead of a foil, he moves into Gary Stu territory.
Peter's breakfast disappointment was both predictable and satisfying.
The Bad. I prefer my stories to have a lot of dialogue. You won't get it here. Probably 75% of the writing is Peter's internal thoughts. The last 25% is mostly broken English. I didn't get any good dialogue until the final pages, but here the dialogue was one sided.
All of Peter's misfortunes begin to drag on the story. He never catches a break, nor does he grow as a person. He starts and ends in the same place. There isn't any character growth. I feel this story would have better served as a short story versus a novel. There's only so many times I can read again about Peter's upset stomach and colon.
Peter is a despicable person. At first, I liked this, but again, he doesn't grow. He's a complete hypocrite and his thoughts confirm this. He doesn't realize it or own it. He might as well twist his mustache as he cackles menacingly.
Complex problems require complex discussions. Using humor makes these discussions easier; however, the author over simplifies by only showing one side as right and one side as wrong in simplistic terms. Don't get me wrong. I agree immigration (especially with asylum) must be fixed. I agree compassion is needed. However, I also know the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. I wish Peter could have had at least a handful of "real" arguments to counter Jeremy's points. Instead, he just got beat like Ali was taking on a pre-teen. Since the debate wasn't balanced, the story reads more as propaganda versus the social rights issue I believe the author intended. The irony being it sounded a lot like Peter's arguments but from the other side of the debate.
The Technical. This story has a little profanity.
It's intended for Team Blue. Team Red need not apply.
Thank you so much to @sarahneofield for sending me an ARC of her debut novel for review. Number Eight Crispy Chicken is a satirical look at what would happen if, through some mistake, the minister for foreign detainment is detained. Yes, it is as funny as the premise promised. For a general impression go check out my review on Instagram and without further ado let’s get into the spoilery review. I really appreciated the way this was written, the humour made a topic that would’ve otherwise been too heavy for me informative and entertaining but the other part of the writing that really did it for me was Peter as a character, he could so easily have not been relatable and on the wrong side of annoying but because of the things Sarah decides to focus on, I found, perhaps not him relatable but his situation relatable and worth sympathy so even though he is quite a dislikeable character, he never stepped over the line that would’ve made me dislike the story because of his presence in it and Sarah does an excellent job of making you feel the drag of every one of the incidents that he goes through without it actually making the story experience drag. I do wish there had been a bit more to the end of the story but at the same time I think it had a good open ending because with everything we learn of Peter as a character throughout the book, a more “aggressive” ending might’ve felt ingenuine and as such, I can happily score this book at 4/5 stars. As I said in my Instagram review, it’s not my typical read but that’s why I feel I can so widely recommend it to anyone who simply enjoys satire because it made my usual preferences not matter.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
This reads like non- fiction dressed up as fiction. A sad commentary on today's politician. Peter Ruddick is a despicable example of the type. He's grasping and egotistical, a master of doublespeak and weaver of red tape. It was great to read about every one of his misfortunes, as he learns what it is like to become the victim of inhuman rules and cynicism. He's a man I loved to hate. An amusing tale of someone getting what they deserve.