5 stars I have two complaints about this book, neither of which can be fixed. My first complaint is that the chapters are too long. I found it hard to take breaks from reading at chapter breaks because they were so spaced out. My second complaint is that this book wasn’t long enough. When I say that, understand that the book is exactly the right length. It doesn’t end prematurely and it doesn’t drag out past the point where all plot points have been tied up and it’s clear the author is just trying to eke out a few more words. It really was the perfect length from a technical standpoint. The reason I say it was too short is because I enjoyed it so much that it made me sad when it ended. I haven’t read anything else from Nick Spalding, but after reading this book, I am a fan—a follower, if you will. There are books that are amusing, while others are written specifically to be humorous, not necessarily having any other point. This book has a point, and it’s hysterical. On numerous occasions, I had to explain why I was laughing out loud. Told from the POV of Andy Bellows, a man with a very dry sense of humor, the narration is conversational and engaging. He is an everyday regular guy with a penchant for recognizing the absurdity in everyday regular occurrences. At one point, he tells the reader: “Look, I’m sorry, but I’m not making this stuff up.” He treats the reader as a confidante, someone with whom he can commiserate about the human condition. Nick Spalding has some truly insightful observations about the internet and its effect on us, like when he makes this statement: “I’ve been so used to outsourcing my general knowledge to Google that when I have to fall back on the contents of my brain, I find that it’s a sluggish, stupid thing, with far less recall of facts than it should have.” Later, he says: “Has my brain been so starved of stimuli that it’s begun to critically evaluate the meat sack it’s being carried around in?” There have been many times when I’ve wondered the same thing as I pull up the thesaurus to remind myself of words that I once used with ataraxia (full disclosure: I’ve never even seen this word before). Nick is also quite good with metaphors, which are always quite funny, like this one: “The irony is so thick, I keep expecting Alanis Morisette to jump out of the bathroom cabinet and hand me some toilet paper.” Or this one: “My kitchen looks like several wars zones have been through it, on their way to the pub.” And this comparison made me chuckle out loud, which again prompted the need to explain why I was laughing: “..the band start(s) to play what I can only describe as the sound of a large brass band falling down a flight of stairs.” There’s a scene where Andy imagines a duck is talking to him, although the only word he keeps repeating is “duck,” that had me clutching my sides as I laughed. But the best part of that was when he asked someone else if the duck was saying “duck” and the person assured him the duck said “quack.” The duck says “duck, duck,” in “agreement” and Andy tells the reader, “But I can tell the little bastard is lying.” I could go on quoting all of the parts of this book that I found especially funny, but suffice to say, the book is a treasure trove of amusement. If I could give it more than 5 stars, I would. In fact, I’d say this one goes to eleven. I loved it and highly recommend it to anyone who enjoys laughing. Thank you Netgalley! June 19, 2020
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Elizabeth J ConnorWriter. Editor. Proofreader. Archives
September 2022
Categories |