Yeah it is, he died in 99. I'm about three quarters through at the moment, and it looks pretty autobiographical (well, in the sense that the main character has cancer). I need to find out more about Stuart Browne but so far it's very good indeed.
The only thing I know is that he went to a cancer support group in Battersea and I think donated some of the proceeds to the group. I used to go there a few years ago but never met him. I thought I recognised the name - there was a musical event held to celebrate his life up town last year and apparently everyone was saying his book was exceptional. Meant to buy it.
Well I have decided to re-read my John Irving selection.
Garp is a shoo-in, must be the 12th time I have read it.
'Hotel new Hampshire' is good
'A prayer for Owen Meany' is very good
I just cannot get into 'A son of the Circus'
'A Widow for One Year' amazing
I have just acquired 'The fourth Hand' - think I'll start with that one
Neil
Finished Dangerous Parking a few days ago, and I've been thinking about it ever since. It was brilliant, and anyone who meant to buy it and didn't, well, you should. Well worth it just for the way that he compares cancer to a glove that's been worn inside out, the cancer exposed to the elements. The development of the character is excellent, showing us eventually that the bloke is a true hero, despite his foibles. Damn shame he didn't write any more novels.
Well, I actually read The Corrections, mostly just to see what the fuss is all about.
I'm still not sure what the fuss is all about. I didn't find it particularly insightful or clever. I'll tell you what it reads like: it reads like someone trying to combine Tom Wolfe's "grand cultural landscape" qualities with Stephen King's obsessive cataloging of everyday items. In the hands of a more skilled writer, maybe he could have made something of it, but most of The Corrections just goes on and on and on, especially at the beginning. For the first couple hundred pages I wasn't sure if I could make it through the whole thing. There is a vaguely vile and filthy quality to it, but after a while it becomes more of a little adventure story and then it's at least readable.
I don't think this one travels well. It will strike a British audience as being ridiculous. It should strike an American audience the same way, but unfortunately, sappiness disguised as hip is in the ascendant.
try as I might I cant stop relentlessly reading 'trout fishing in america' by richard brautigan because it always makes me feel warm, even when I am laying in my garden at night.
similarly I always have a volume of some hunter s thompson or another around me, and the 'autobiography of a brown buffalo' by oscar zeta acosta.
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