Fluke
Or, I Know Why the Winged Whale Sings
It's good. If you don't believe me, I have evidence. I read it in 10 hours. That was non-stop (rather short-breaks-for-nourishment-withstanding). After those 10 hours, I was sad that it was over.
Personally, it's a matter of a love of learning. Even if what I might be reading is 1/2 scientific fact, 1/4 bullshit, and 1/4 pure unadulterated grade-school-humor, I love to learn things. Hell, it's probably because of all that.
If you love a good book, and you love intelligent humor, and you adore learning things you never thought you'd ever know, then pick it up. I feel like I'm writing a report for Book-It!, but it's almost fitting, as Book-It! is celebrating it's 20th anniversary this year (bet you didn't know that, either, didja?).
Here's an excerpt, if you're so inclined:
"Leathery bar girls worked the charter booths at the harbor, smoking Basic 100s and talking in voices that sounded like 151 rum poured onto hot grease-a jigger of friendly to the liter of harsh. They were thirty-five or sixty-five, the color of mahogany, skinny and strong from living on boats, liquor, fish, and disappointment. They'd come here from a dozen coastal towns, some sailing from the mainland in small craft but forgetting to save enough courage for the trip home. Marooned. Man to man, boat to boat, year to year-slat and sun and drinking had left them dry enough to cough dust. If they lasted a hundred years-and some would-then one moonless night a great hooded wraith would swoop into the harbor and take them off to their own craggy island-uncharted and unseen more than once by any living man-and there they would keep the enchantment of the sea alive: lure lost sailors to the shore, suck out all of their fluids, and leave their desiccated husks crumbling on the rocks for the crabs and the black gulls. Thus were the sea hags born...but that's another story. Today they were just razzing Clay for leading two girls down the dock."Thar ye be, matey. You'll like it, I promise. I like a good book, I love a good book with deep meaning. I adore a good book with a lot of deep meaning and some fucked up shit thrown in and a dash of bathroom humor tossed in, just for fun. I worship an author who can give me all those things, consistantly. Read Christopher Moore.
End lesson.
5 comments:
You have to love a writer like Christopher Moore. He's always witty, totally original, and never ceases to amaze with his audacity. I dig him. Bloodsucking Fiends and Pracitcal Demonkeeping are my two favorites at the moment.....
Anything that has leathery bar girls in it - man, I know those girls. There's one at the Rose and my husband and I call her Jack Palance (only between ourselves of course, we're not that rude) because she does, honestly, look like she is made of leather.
But, leathery bar girls aside, I'd still like to read the book. I'll have to look for it at the library.
Jess: I've read Practical Demonkeeping, and loved it. I have yet to read Bloodsucking Fiends, and now I have to. Damn that $18.00 fine at the library from when I was 12. Damn it straight to hell.
blues: Yeah, it's pretty damn funny. You should totally read it, if only for the leathery bar chicks. I love that you have them there, too. We've got them up here, and it's twice as sad, because you just know they do it artificially. (shudders)
Blues - I would pay A LOT of money for a picture of Jack Palance. I keep picturing this lady looking like him and it made laugh out loud here at work.
These books sound very interesting.
Well it just so happens it's Friday and we're off to the Rose in a few hours. I'll take my camera and see who shows up. Can't guarantee Jack Palance, but you just never know, we could get lucky. Though I hate to use 'Jack Palance' and 'get lucky' in the same sentence.
Then there's Ruth Gordon, the cross-eyed preacher, Sam Elliott, Country Joe, Treasure Chest....yeah, it's quite the place. I should do a documentary or something.
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