Where to begin with this one? It's an experimental novel about a young Irish man who lives with his uncle and has aspirations of being a writer. He references several stories within his own story which feature characters who gradually begin to interact with one other. It's not so much a story within a story, so much as a story about a story where the characters become the authors of other stories within that story whilst another story unfolds as a consequence of that story. So yeah, interesting. There are supposedly three stories happening but they overlap and mingle to the extent that you entirely lose track.

There's one that involves a Pooka and an invisible fairy who lives in his pocket. They meet some ne'er-do-wells in the woods and travel to the house of a character from a different story and play poker. It was strangely compelling and yet I didn't fully grasp what was going on. This was true for huge portions of the book and characters were seemingly coming and going while the narration left me unsure of what was actually happening beyond the immediate. Yet some of the writing was utterly beautiful indeed. But it became increasingly difficult to put it into any kind of context. For example:

"The character of your colloquy is not harmonious, rejoined the Pooka, and makes for barriers between the classes. Honey-words in torment, a growing urbanity against the sad extremities of human woe, that is the further injunction in place upon your head; and for the avoidance of opprobrious oddity as to numerals, I add this, a sickly suppuration at the base of the left breast."

Lovely stuff. But what on earth doesn't mean? Even in context, I had no real clue. So while the prose is often wonderful, it comes at the cost of not being fully able to engage due to a lack of connection with the material. As such, there were times when it was hard-going and, towards the end, I was positively desperate for the book to finish. At one point a cow was given the ability to speak in order to give testimony in court regarding the cruelty of one of the fictional authors. Nice.

If you like experimental writing and exquisite prose, you should read it. If you don't, maybe skip it.

Just wasn’t my cup of tea this one. I love Flann O’Brien, the Third Policeman is an all-time great for me, and the Poor Mouth? *Chef’s kiss*

But I just really struggled to get into this one. It was quite insightful into O’Brien’s ideas surrounding the creative process and 20th Century Dublin, but I got little else out of this one. Hilarious in bite sized chunks, but as far as the overall story goes, not for me.

This book is hilarious and complicated, the existential complications allowing for and multiplying the levels of absurdity and comedy. If Charlie Kaufman and Kingsley Amis had a baby that was raised in the wild by a pack of feral thesauruses, it would be this book.

This title loses a star due to the extreme headiness of many passages. It will bore you frequently, then surprise you with the absurdity once you're head is beginning to nod...

Crazy book. The stories were sometimes hard to follow (the last 20% or so felt like a Moebius strip), but the prose kept me engaged.

Yeah I thought this was a different book

While I can appreciate why others might enjoy Flann O'Brien's "At Swim-Two-Birds," reading it was akin to torture to me. I'm not entirely certain I would have understood what was going on without reading the back of the book before starting the novel.

It's the story of a drunk Irish guy who is writing a novel about an author and all of the author's characters start interacting with each other. It's supposed to be funny, but it's definitely not the kind of humor I find funny.

I found this book to be confusing and silly. I can appreciate what O'Brien was trying to do. But what it really boils down to, is this book was just not my cup of tea and so I found it a completely unenjoyable read.

what... just happened

Pure fun, pure evil. Can hardly wait for the film adaptation (in two years time).