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A review by drplantwrench
At Swim-Two-Birds by Flann O'Brien
4.0
When I first started reading this book, I knew nothing about it. I had heard it was a hilarious Irish classic, and that was enough for me to give it a whirl! As I started it, it was not at all I expected, and to be honest, difficult to get into. I had read it was similar to Joyce, but the beginning of the book had all the things that I disliked about Joyce without any of its redeeming qualities (i.e. purposefully convoluted structure, humor drier than a week old toast left out in the California sun). My internal rating of the book was starting off poor. I had no idea why this challenging metafictional book had the quote "This is just the book to give your sister – if she's a loud, dirty, boozy girl" on it [still don't really get that quote].
But, it starts to pick up. I realized that I was still on chapter 1, even halfway through, a cute little joke. The book really takes off when the book within the book really begins, and mirrors the Narrator's life. There are several parts in the back half of the book where I started actually laughing. It wasn't as funny as I was hoping, and more farcical in nature, and I was starting to find it endearingly amusing. To the surprise of my earlier self who couldn't get into the beginning, I was rushing through the book at this point. The crescendo of the book, particularly the ending where the Narrator receives a watch from his uncle, completely flipped my perspective of the book. The whole book became about wrestling with your creator/father, and how petty revenge (even if it is deserved and fruitful) can all burn away in a single moment of recognition.
As you can tell, the book has provoked a lot more thought than I expected, even after I finished. It is a weird feeling to dislike the start of a book, relatively enjoy the end of the book, and then become obsessed with it after you finish reading it. By the end of it, I feel like this book concluded with what was missing from Joyce (imo). It reminds me of Gogol's Dead Souls - parts of it incomplete, some parts shining, and overall well worth a read.
But, it starts to pick up. I realized that I was still on chapter 1, even halfway through, a cute little joke. The book really takes off when the book within the book really begins, and mirrors the Narrator's life. There are several parts in the back half of the book where I started actually laughing. It wasn't as funny as I was hoping, and more farcical in nature, and I was starting to find it endearingly amusing. To the surprise of my earlier self who couldn't get into the beginning, I was rushing through the book at this point. The crescendo of the book, particularly the ending where the Narrator receives a watch from his uncle, completely flipped my perspective of the book. The whole book became about wrestling with your creator/father, and how petty revenge (even if it is deserved and fruitful) can all burn away in a single moment of recognition.
As you can tell, the book has provoked a lot more thought than I expected, even after I finished. It is a weird feeling to dislike the start of a book, relatively enjoy the end of the book, and then become obsessed with it after you finish reading it. By the end of it, I feel like this book concluded with what was missing from Joyce (imo). It reminds me of Gogol's Dead Souls - parts of it incomplete, some parts shining, and overall well worth a read.