There is not a single likeable character. With money, you can buy Dr. This further cemented my belief that the only reason classics are called so is because some committee agreed and the public thought the committee must be right. There is never a dull moment here and the implic This was my second read of this unbelievable masterpiece from John Kennedy Toole who committed suicide 21 years before this book was rediscovered and published by his mother he was thus the only person to receive a posthumous Pulitzer in 1981. This 30-year-old medievalist lives at home with his mother in New Orleans, pens his magnum opus on Big Chief writing pads he keeps hidden under his bed, and relays to anyone who will listen the traumatic experience he once had on a Greyhound Scenicruiser bound for Baton Rouge.
The man announces that he is the undercover officer Mancuso, and he arrests her for possession of pornography. So begins the descent by Fortuna. What is it that makes some people despise it? I think the most I thought the book was ok. Moreover, she often suggests that he has homosexual tendencies. Si no lo hacen, ustedes se lo pierden. On the other hand, there were some redeeming dramatis personae to be found amidst Toole's merry band of walking character flaws.
I didn't know I even had a pyloric valve until I met Ignatius J. Gus, regularly besieged by his harpy wife, prefers to leave details to his hapless office manager, Gonzalez, poorly assisted by the senile Miss Trixie. Failing to negotiate his way through the debauchery, Ignatius ends up ejected and dejected in the street, where he is almost run over by the reality of a city bus. I know I'm out on my own on this one, but I detest this book. Toole's students would have had tears in their eyes.
I am tempted to take it up again one of these days, that I could determine whether an abundance of books and years under my belt may have inclined me to chortle and marvel at what previously had induced mostly pursed lips and impatient grunts—but then there are all of these one and two star reviews, by people whose opinions I respect and value, lending weighty support to my more potent determination that life is simply too short, and there are far too many books, to give up the time required for that particular Toolean experiment. Officer Mancuso appears on the scene undercover and Lana Lee, thinking he's a likely mark, propositions him for sex and shows him the picture of herself naked. It was a long time ago that I read it, so factor that in as well. I dislike leaving a book unfinished and the only reason I continued to read it was the hope that my effort would be paid off in the end. He must have been enjoying it immensely, because he kept laughing out loud every now and then. Dorian agrees to host the event. If you think of a novel-length R.
What willful refusal to accept responsibility! I probably would have liked her less had she been more of an active force here, so I'll be happy with how stingy Toole was with her scenes. And it felt bloody freeing, even if I'll never get the closure of punching Ignatius right in his stupid, Vaselined mustache. No one loves them, just the odd post-grad creep scribbling a note in the margins of something unreadable. Any amount of stress makes Ignatius' pyloric valve snap shut, causing him debilitating gas pains. Irene, however, sees no alternative to Ignatius' going to work to help pay off the debt. Meanwhile, at the police precinct, the old man who helped Ignatius has been placed on a bench with a young, black man wearing space-age sunglasses.
But because everyone was equally stereotyped and lampooned it didn't come off as offensive. Following it is like unraveling a giant ball of yarn wrapped around a very fat man with a moustache and a funny hat who keeps falling over. The book won the Pulitzer Prize in 1981, and is now widely considered a classic, but it continues to confound efforts at a movie adaptation. Downloading this on my trusty but much-neglected Kindle. A sheepish Officer Mancuso finds the wreck and helps Mrs. Firstly because dialogue filled text is such a quick read. I found the descriptions of New Orleans particularly diverting.
Levy from a libel suit, himself from prosecution for forgery, and Miss Trixie--giving her the retirement she has desired for so long. It just sounded all of the wrong notes for me. Of course, smaller circles within this circle are also possible. I must say that the numerous references to various and sundry bodily emissions offended my delicate feminine sensibilities somewhat. Irene begins to think that the only way to save Ignatius from himself is to have him committed to a hospital for the mentally ill. It is funny, sometimes uproariously so, and I smiled and chuckled throughout.
Toole returned from military service to his home city where he taught at St. To hear some people describe it even people I usually correlate well with , this book is a laugh-scream riot. This man is , and he has been falsely accused of stealing cashew nuts. I dislike leaving a book unfinished and the only reason I continued to read it was the hope that my effort would be paid off in the end. But if this book has any redeemable aspects I know I'm out on my own on this one, but I detest this book. Crumb cartoon you would not be far off.
But this isn't about my Kindle: This is more about the shiny new iPhone I acquired recently, the very device that signaled another blow to my pseudo-Luddite ways by thrusting me into the joyous world of being owned by a smartphone. What I viewed as a miss may have been because the bar was so high. Well, they're probably either a best friend, a comrade whom I hold in worship-approximating esteem, or my cool cousin or uncle or something like that. Poor guy didn't have an option but to put the book down. It also forced the book to show rather than tell and really fleshed out all of the characters. When I pontificate about the virtue This book is so vivid that you can practically smell New Orleans. There are a lot of ways to judge people, but I find that opinion of this book is one of the most accurate and efficient.
A panoply of eccentric characters surround him, from over-enthusiastic Patrolman Mancuso, who mistakenly arrests our hero for vagrancy; to elderly secretary Miss Trixie, who keeps trying and failing to retire; to the poofy Dorian Greene; and the delectable but sinister stripper Lana Lee, owner of the Night of Joy club and an amazing cockatoo. He is a modern-day Quixote beset by giants of the modern age. When my brain begins to reel from my literary labors, I make an occasional cheese dip. Genius structure, brilliant dialogue, dark as hell, and funny over and over. Miniver scorned the gold he sought, But sore annoyed was he without it; Miniver thought, and thought, and thought, And thought about it. So, when I couldn't keep myself from cracking up, I was very obviously that weird possibly-schizophrenic girl that every user of public transportation dreads.