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#1
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I really, really enjoyed this book. To use that old back-of-novel chestnut, I laughed out loud on several occasions. In fact I found one particular phrase so funny (a description of the twins’ appearance when eating), I bookmarked the page it appeared on so I could return to it whenever I needed a chuckle. It never failed to deliver.
John is a truly memorable literary creation. He reminded me a little of John Updike’s protagonist, Harry ‘Rabbit’ Angstrom, another character who can make you laugh even while you’re wincing. Like Rabbit, John enjoys embracing the Jezebel spirit, whether in the form of a casual shag, cheeky fag or half a litre of Grouse before bedtime. He and Rabbit are the kind of characters against whom others smugly measure their decency, even when their own behaviour is far from perfect. Mick, for example, hides behind his Puritanical, high achiever façade while a multitude of dark desires and selfish impulses simmer underneath – from lusting after Swedish scientists in tight skirts to his spoil-sport habit of depositing a lump of gob in John’s pint of Landlord (by far the worst thing he does, in my book). Ultimately though, the novel is not just about two conjoined brothers. As other contributors to this forum have suggested, it’s about something a great deal more profound – our contradictory and often warring selves. For John’s literary alter-ego, Mad John, the shackled relationship that symbolises this is so dire he has to ‘die’ to be reborn free. But back in Oxford, Mick and John overcome their differences in a gentler way to emerge as a more integrated and balanced whole. In this respect, the novel, like Jung, invites us to accept both our angels and demons. Like Mick and John, it suggests, we’d be a whole lot happier for it. |
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#2
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I'm only half way through this book, but I must admit it's a hoot. I'm sure the purpose of this forum isn't just to come on and say how much I enjoyed it, but it is a great example of a novel that is witty and accessible aswell as being quite philosophically challenging. I found it took me a few pages to get used to the idea of the conjoined twins physically, but when I got my head round it (pardon the pun), the rest flows beautifully. The author clearly knows enough medically about the condition, and has written in a way that stops one questioning the feasibility of these guys predicament. I know I probably shouldn't, but I much prefer John's approach to life, and his laid back "Men Behaving Badly" lifestyle. I suppose lots of us are like Mick, knowing we'd rather be like John, or maybe I've got that the wrong way around!
Looking forward to finishing the rest of this enthralling book, and uncovering the "twist" that has been alluded to on this forum. Also, looking forward to seeing how the family life unfolds. Not sure whether I should expect a "happily ever after" or a "to be continued"... |
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#3
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The last book I remember making me cry with laughter while reading on the train (much to the discomfort of those around me) was Nick Hornby's 'High Fidelity'. 'Freak of Nature' made me do that same thing.
They're different, of course, because Hornby's narrator was emotionally stunted and single, and Whitaker's is emotionally stunted and half-married. But in a way, they both get to the heart of being a man in this day and age. I guess the fact that - since 'High Fidelity' days - I've become a father made this a book that spoke to me. I loved it, and will read it again. Theo |