And again, not his fault, because when you’re a hammer, all the world looks like nails and when you are a hipster, earnestness may be hard to identify. The tragically hip young man was describing with no small amount of irony the most irony-deficient book ever written since Jane Fucking Eyre. So you can see why I had to get it and then wait two years to read it. He described it as being the story of a man-child who spent all day bouncing balls. He was a tragically hip young person, as are most of the clerks at BookPeople, but this is Austin and I am getting old, so no condemnation. I ordered a copy of this book because I asked a clerk at BookPeople to tell me the oddest book he had ever read. Just a little strange, a little left of center. Don’t get me wrong, because I love a good wallow, but at the same time, a wallow-less book that does not pander to the reader is so rare that it is odd by default.Īvailability: This translation was published by Cannongate Books in 2005, and you can get a copy here:Ĭomments: Ah, sometimes you just need things to be sweetly odd. Given that even most lit fic, even if it has a happy ending, requires a wallow, this book is unique in that regard. And to be perfectly blunt, it was a book written from a place of goodwill, of belief in the idea that life can be wonderful. Why Do I Consider This Book Odd: Well, it isn’t as full-force odd as some of the books I discuss here but it is definitely off the radar of what is mainstream. This post originally appeared on I Read Odd Books
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