When a virus makes everyone’s internet history public, Murph finds his joke shop swarmed with customers seeking a disguise to escape the penetrating gaze of facial recognition software. Murph takes on a young assistant to avoid dealing with a public he blames on the death of his wife, but when Alex Marie’s band ‘The Noses’ become overnight idols of a new subculture, the intrusions into Murph’s sealed existence continue. Told in two interleaving narratives, the characters are ultimately forced to choose between forgiveness or shame, between the future or the past.
How much power do we give social media over our lives, and how forgiving are we of those who’ve been embarrassed by a post, or of those who express moral outrage? These are the questions at the heart of Brian Kelly’s debut novel, Murph.
Murph is a bitter old sod. His career with the legendary group The Pricks has faded. His wife died five years ago after being humiliated and doxxed online, and now customers flock to his store for fake noses and moustaches, thanks to software that exposes everyone’s internet history. His Emporium of Misrule is not a joke shop; it’s for serious thespians.
Murph would rather stay in a drug- and alcohol-induced haze than make a sale, so he's forced to hire Alex Marie, a young punk rocker with her own embarrassing past. She soon turns Murph’s life upside down.
Kelly keeps a brisk narrative pace, making the book an easy, humorous read—until it gets poignant. Like many old hard rockers, it’s loud and raucous on the surface but mushy in the end. Kelly’s deep knowledge of music shines as he guides readers through rock history from the 1960s until hip-hop and rap take over. Occasionally, this expertise overshadows the story, but the humour keeps readers engaged.
The dialogue is relatable, especially if imagined with an Irish brogue—fitting, given Kelly’s Dublin roots, though the New York City setting may cause some confusion.
Despite minor flaws, the novel delivers a good yarn with a timely message: Everyone makes mistakes, but what matters is how we move forward. The most important person to forgive may be yourself.
This was a very funny book and the prose is very enjoyable. It’s really well written and well-paced. I found the references to music culture to be a bit middle-brow, lots of references to Zeppelin and a reference to Bowie but not a single reference to Talking Heads or more alternative music.
I liked the commentary on cancel culture but it did feel slightly on the reactionary side. I think that critiquing publish shaming is great, but what about some of the positive aspects of cancel culture such as MeToo and some genuinely awful people In positions like of power being held accountable. Sure the witch hunt can be really horrible but an educated liberal white man writing a not-very-nuanced polemic on cancel culture does seem a bit typical. There is a A LOT of nuanced commentary in this book. I agree that ‘twitter shaming can be awful’ but that’s a point I already knew and agreed with…obvious references to Jon Robson’s book on public shaming.
The concept was really interesting but no revelations, just a bit of a guardian reading confirmation bias echo chamber. Which is fine, in a way, but the writer is clearly very skilled and could have gone deeper with this.
However this book is hilarious and you should read it. The best thing about this book is that the ending, and the last few chapters are absolutely glorious. Im often disappointed by endings but this was great and that’s impressive to do well.
Isn't it great when you get a book which goes in a completely different direction from the one you were expecting?
This book, which starts like a middle-aged (very funny) drunk and stoned book, morphs (murphs?) into an exploration of the destructiveness of internet trolls, and internet history (who hasn't at one time recorded a sex tape you didn't want shared, or accidentally downloaded a Celine Dion album? Who has the right to judge one drunken tweet taken out of context?), into a celebration of the resurrective power of good rock'n'roll, into an unconventional story of love and lasting friendship.
This is somewhere between The Third Policeman and A Confederacy of Dunces in tone, but set in a recognisably modern New York, so if you enjoyed either of those two (and who doesn't?), you'll like this.
I first bought this book in paperback, and it's a riot. Music nerds will enjoy the ridiculous drunken escapades of Irishman Murph and a rather crap punk rock band trying to make it in New York's gig scene while living the dream of anarchy by using the classic Groucho Marx style nose and 'stache to outdo the growing threat to democracy of CCTV facial recognition. Fans of books like Vernon Subutex and The Ruins, and basically anyone with memories of the goth-punk-rock scene of the 90s will love this book.
Murph, like all good novels, is “about” many things. Like all good novels, it’s about only one.
Art, rock, e-bloodthirst, kindness at cruel impulses, and cruelty meted out at phony slaves to social downfall are all plied masterfully in this book. But Murph’s real strength is in creating a big world and dwarfing it and it’s impressive bounds by centering the novel on flawed, real protagonists.
Murph can smirk and snarl like the speed and scag that fuel an Anti-Nowhere League song, but when the high wears off, all that’s left is real, beautiful human truth.
Chapter 1: A drunk man talks to a tree. This had me hooked as I could relate to Murph from the first few pages. I love Brian Kelly’s style of writing in Murph. It reminds me of Douglas Adam’s Hitchhikers way of writing because it flows so well. Thoroughly enjoyed losing myself in the story - similar to the enjoyment I get - and Murph in losing ourselves in an alcohol induced stupor. Beautiful…
Is he genius? Possibly. Is he handsome? Almost certainly. Will this book change literature as we know it? Absolutely. Definitely. In all seriousness though... this book is written like if Flann O'Brien had a baby with John Kennedy Toole - Irish American - obvs the best. It's as if Philip K, Dick became the lead singer of The Velvet Underground.
An absorbing read. Murph drags you inside on a crazy journey. Hilarious, hopeless and hopeful, and sometimes all at once. The main characters really draw you in, and you find yourself rooting for them, in all their imperfection. Didn't want it to end. Unputdownable!