Out of the blue, failed actor turned drama teacher, Tristram Randolph, has greatness thrust upon him in the form of the top job as headmaster at a new school in the dysfunctional capital of a despotic post-Soviet state. Swineforth International, a franchise of a third rate public school in England, is out in the desert and there's no escape as the foreign faculty have had their passports confiscated. To make matters worse, Randolph and his motley crew of teachers, each of whom embodies one of the seven deadly sins, gradually fall victim to their own vices. Things come to a head when a revolution breaks out, the school is shut down and Randolph is accused of aiding and abetting the rebellion. His only hope lies in winning a presidential pardon by giving the performance of a lifetime.Praise for the author's debut novel, 'A Blindefellows Chronicle'... “A sprightly, inventive novel, rich in amusing characters and situations. I enjoyed every word of it.” Tony Connor, Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature
Auriel Roe is an author and artist who spent the earlier part of her career teaching literature, drama and art in secondary schools in England and abroad. One of her short stories was shortlisted for a major UK writing competition. Her debut novel 'A Blindefellows Chronicle' was #1 for humour in Amazon US, Canada and UK. It has been saved by over 2,000 readers on Goodreads. Her memoir focuses on her fractured adolescence, her slew of unsuitable suitors and her total ineptness at any kind of gainful employment, 'A Young Lady's Miscellany', is is now available. Auriel's second novel, 'Let The Swine Go Forth' follows the misadventures of a group of teachers in a new international school out in the desert of a totalitarian state. It is due to be republished with Dogberry Books in 2021. Trivia: Auriel Roe is the fourth cousin of Margaret Atwood and direct descendant of Pendal "witch" Alice Nutter.
Now, this is one fun ride down the dark, disturbing forest of the modern educational system, full of the seven deadly sins, gross incompetence, and scarred children.
In other words, it's funny as hell.
Roe took us into a public institution last time. This one is quite a bit more private. Her experience in the system comes out with wildly satirical flair. It's awfully oddball and sharp and full of great moments.
What makes this stand out is the PoV of the headmaster. It feels quite English, quite droll, but also as zany as you might expect. Birds and torture go quite nice with the seven sins pig. Does anyone want to stage a play?
I would absolutely recommend this for anyone who's in the mood for modern mainstream matriculation mania. :)
Many warnings are skipped merrily by our main man Tristram Randolph, a Lucky Jim-like figure who stands as figurehead (headmaster) of a new school. He is compiling a staff for his boarding school outside of England, in the ficitional land of Diskebapisbad. Logos, emblems are all comically wrong, dirty anagrams placed upon the uniforms; the staff all represent one or several of the capitol sins: they are lazy, selfish, all but teachers. It feels itself too special; all professors are involved in their own inanities, mostly comedic & mostly vapid. The novelty in this crew of novices is sublime!
They all subscribe to that (tyrannical!) thought that instilling in their classes a "proper British language" will sate the politicoeconomic elite. Wrong! With silly symbols and wacky situations including a golden bidet, the haunted colonial past, pigs, ducks and dinosaurs, and far-flung lost relatives, I think I may have found one of the genuine candidates for BOOKS OF THE YEAR.
The confused British soul lies here--fumbly, proper, and properly beaten. Much is lost in translation: in the casual or business exchange of conqueror with the conquered. To anglicize a lost land is obviously a mega bad idea ("No rich theatrical tradition here... the only tradition was the art of survival." [195]). But portrayed in this way, with panache to spare, with satire in dollops, we can ACTUALLY laugh all about this internal realization.
This is Auriel Roe’s follow-up to the hilarious ‘A Blindefellows Chronicle’ and it’s a worthy successor.
Unlike Roe’s previous book, this is a more straightforward novel, without any jumps forward in time and with a smaller cast, but it doesn’t suffer for its tighter focus.
The main protagonist is one of the novel’s strengths; he has a definite character arc and the poor chap really does get put through the ringer. We don’t feel too bad for him, however, as he starts out as quite the pompous ass and a lot of his woes are self-inflicted.
This is a very funny book that had me chuckling along throughout. The humour walks a wobbly tightrope between Wodehouse and the Carry On movies and isn’t for the easily offended. There certainly isn’t much in the way of political correctness (I hate that term) on display but so much of the humour is obviously observed from the author’s real life experience that it’s difficult to be offended.
Overall, this is a very entertaining read and, if you’re looking for a chuckle, you could certainly do a lot worse.
I thoroughly enjoyed Auriel Roe's previous book A Blindefellows Chronicle when I read it last year so was looking forward to more of her gently subversive dry wit in Let The Swine Go Forth. In Blindefellows, the action takes place over several years with the school and its staff linking a collection of short stories but this time the story is told in a more linear fashion over the course of just a few months. There's a lovely connection to Blindefellows, however, with the erstwhile drama teacher, Tristram Randolph taking on the lead role this time after he is unexpectedly offered the position of headteacher at a new school in the fictional country, Diskepabisbad; a former Soviet state with a despotic president and a decidedly poor human rights record. Randolph is completely oblivious to the warning signs that he may be getting in over his head and gleefully accepts the role. Meanwhile, his current school, Swineforth Hospital reluctantly agree to becoming a sister school - their concerns over the suitability of both the country and Randolph's own abilities outweighed by the promise of extra funds and in the case of his most outspoken critic, the school bursar, the chance to take Tristram off their books. He approaches his new job with all the confidence of a man who clearly doesn't have a clue about what he's doing but firmly believes his talents are finally being recognised. He is vain and incompetent but his many mistakes and his very gradual realisation that he's been taken for a fool means that there is something rather endearing about him. Let The Swine Goes Forth delights in its wordplay, with unfortunate acronyms a recurring theme (at one point Randolph orders polo shirts for his staff bearing the school's initials on the back - Swineforth Hospital International Team) but there are less signposted moments of razor-sharp humour in this affectionate nod to the likes of Waugh and Wodehouse too. Each member of staff is the personification of a deadly sin but this is no cautionary tale and many are rather likeable despite their foibles - I was particularly fond of the duck-obsessed science teacher, Brian and the unashamedly insatiable Gemmy. There are plenty of joyfully farcical moments throughout the book, from an inspection which doesn't go at all to plan to a wonderful scene involving Tristram's father's latest invention - the Silligator satnav system but there's an undercurrent of danger to the novel too. The hapless Randolph may take a while to understand just how much trouble he is in but it's only too clear that a country which imprisons a visitor just for wearing a turkey hat isn't the sort of place to forgive honest mistakes. Although a very different plot, Let The Swine Go Forth reminded me a little of Psmith, Journalist in that the author examines some important social issues (such as the mistreatment of prisoners and state corruption) and in doing so drives Randolph to develop as a character without losing the essence of who he is. The story is well-plotted and told with great charm and the fictional setting is vividly imagined - I was easily able to picture Diskepabisbad in my mind. I read Let The Swine Go Forth with a smile glued to my face; this thoroughly engaging book will appeal to anybody who enjoys unashamedly British silliness with a sharp edge. More please!
Tristram Randolph, failed actor and teacher of theatre at Swineforth Hospital school, finds himself offered a tempting job: as headmaster at the new school being established in Diskebapisbad, the capital of a former Soviet colony named Kebapistan. The very flashy and attractive—and obviously extremely wealthy—woman, Zara Zoran, who offers Randolph the job, says that the aim is to bring British education to Kebapistan: Randolph and his handpicked team of teachers will elevate Kebapistan’s elite to greater heights…
… except that the motley crew Randolph is able to collect isn’t exactly the cream of British teacherhood. Gabby, the art teacher, is a glutton, with only food on her mind. Gemma, who teaches English, only has sex on her mind. Brian Eider-Drake, in charge of science, is obsessed with ducks and geese, and the mathematics teacher, Mark Gall, is rude and violent and rather frightening. And, to top it all, Diskebapisbad, on closer acquaintance, turns out to be not quite the haven Randolph had been given to believe.
The core premise of Let the Swine Go Forth is good: clueless (and naïve) school teacher ends up embroiled in high-level politicking in a volatile dictatorship. The execution of that story, though, is a little erratic. For me, the build-up to the climax was far too slow: the part I found both funny as well as sadly (stereotypically?) true of Eastern Europe, came far too late. There are the little details here and there, scattered in the narrative, in the first two-thirds of the book, but it’s only in the last third of the book that they come together and turn the story into a fast-paced rerun of The Great Game. Then, what with Tom, the story of Barnaby Glibly, Zina Zoran and the Pantomime, and more, it’s both interesting and funny.
Before that, though, the story meanders a good bit, mostly focusing on the teachers and Randolph—and the sad part here is that the characters are almost all too one-dimensional. Whether it’s Gemmy or Gabby, Brian or Mark, they ended up coming across as caricatures: I could pretty much predict the sort of thing that would happen as soon as one of these characters put in an appearance. Randolph however was a better-etched character and one I could sympathize with—a bit.
A somewhat interesting lead character, funny because he’s clueless most of the time, and an interesting last third of a story don’t really swing it for me. The ‘humour’ before that was often pretty gross (lots of toilet humour here, not something I enjoy), and it just seemed that the book could’ve done with some good editing. This was allowed to go on too long, too all over the place.
But, I will say this: the wordplay in ‘Diskebapisbad’ is delightful.
As a teacher who worked in international schools for nigh on twenty years, this absurdist satire of the worst aspects of that weird little world rang laughably true to me. Not only that, this very silly novel concomitantly manages to send up the far larger— but similarly obscure to outsiders— realm of the post-soviet fiefdoms of Central Asia and the Caucuses. The author achieves these two abstract aims within the rollicking framework of an old fashioned picaresque novel, except that the picaro here— Tristram Randolph, by name— is already over fifty, which serves to heighten the comedy since he ought to be old enough to know better and his efforts to live by his wits are Candisishly ill fated since these are so very dim. The cast of minor characters surrounding him is well conceived, being either wicked, foolish or both, except for his wonderful P.A., Ms. Golmar, a clandestinely revolutionary savant, who typified for me all the suppressed and ignored potential I’ve found tucked away among brilliant, frustrated young people in far flung downtrodden lands. Buy this one...and read it!
Another gem by the author of A Blindfellows Chronicle, Auriel Roe. Former drama teacher Tristram Randolph is offered the position of headmaster at a new school in a former Soviet state now ruled by a despot. The job seems too good to be true and upon arrival, Randolph discovers it is. During the course of the year, Randolph experiences staffing issues, a sisterly rivalry, the discovery of a long-lost relative, success on the stage, prison time and a coup. How he handles each crisis they arise (hint - - not very well) form the basis of the entertainment this novel provides. Unlike A Blindfellows Chronicle, which featured a series of loosely connected episodes, Let the Swine Go Forth is a continuous narrative. It does, however, feature a cast of unique characters, each with his or her own comedic twist. Randolph can best be described as hapless. He is on way over his head from the start and constantly finds himself struggling to cope. I enjoyed his struggle very much.
I was lucky enough to receive a copy of this book from the amazing author herself, and let me tell you, it's brilliant. It's hard to describe Auriel's use of comedy as anything but Waugh-esque. The dry, tingling tickle of a laugh that sits at the back of your throat; it permeates the entire book. I absolutely loved The Blindefellows Chronicle, and can safely say that Let The Swine Go Forth is a great second novel from an author everyone should be watching.
Very funny tour of duty at the international school in a far away land. No doubt you will recognise one or two or maybe more of the professor's from your academic years. Well written, descriptive and full or entertaining characters.
Hilariously entertaining! I could not put this book down & couldn’t wait to see what Tristram would do next. All of the characters were amusing in their own way. If you’re looking to escape into wonky laugh out loud world, this is the book for you. Auriel is a very talented writer & I can’t wait to read more!
I loved 'A Blindefellows Chronicle' and dearly hoped that Roe's follow-up would be as good. And it is! At a time when the British comic novel is wallowing in the doldrums she has produced an absolute gem. Tristram Randolph is a glorious character (who should be played by a suitably befuddled young Ian Carmichael) who, I'm sure, has oodles more stories left to tell. A great and funny read. Onwards to Book 3!