This book came to my attention on the London Underground. ffice
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I’m not really sure why advertisers chose to hawk their wares on the tube. Even as a captive audience you’re more likely to be the homicidal kind of captive, dreaming up painful ways to rip the heads of the cunts conversing about their car insurance even if they are all models, than the spending money type of captive.
Upon the poster for it, lay the message “As Good As The Lovely Bones Or Your Money Back”.
Who’s marking?
As far as I know, The Lovely Bones was a tale about a raped-and-murdered 14-year-old girl. (I’ve not actually READ it, of course). And this seems to be just some kind of quasi-spiritual shit but how do you compare the two?
What I’m not saying here is it is all down to the reader.
How many times have you heard this refrain? “Ooh it’s all opinion. It’s all subjective.”
Rat’s cocks. The following is an objective fact: Carry On Jeeves: Good. Anything by Mike Gayle: Warmed-up cunt. With a shit on top.
It’s just these are nothing books. Straight blah prose, as notable as the middle paragraph on a style article from Heat magazine, summer 2002.
Is there some kind of Zeitgeist grading?
Is it dependent on which clangs loudest - the murderous similie (“he crushed my skull as if it were a white Ferrero Rocher only with blood instead of that chocolate sauce stuff”) or the hilarity of whatever invention the time traveller will hilariously invent (I said: “Why not make those trousers blue, Mr Levi?”)
Perhaps, weight, flammability and font come into it.
Whatever the criteria, just take it back - it’ll be shit. Then take back The Lovely Bones. Then set about the publisher with a every book about the Holy Grail published last year. Then finish him off with celebrity biographies.
It was only when entering this that I remarked on the author's hilarious surname. It's very pleasing to say to one's self. Over and over.
