I've started reading March Violets by Phillip Kerr, and I can't tell if it's a serious homage to classic noir, or more of a loving, straight-faced satire, a la This is Spinal Tap. I can't tell if I'm laughing with it or at it, but I'm enjoying it either way. It's decently well-written, too. Too many times, parodies aren't readable/watchable in their own right, so when the humor fades you're just left with a poor version of the thing, but so far this seems to be a fun "hard-boiled detective" story, even as it turns the volume up to eleven.
I mean, come on. There's no way this book was written with a straight face. It had me laughing so hard on the subway home last night, I was crying. The other commuters must have thought I was having a fit.
Yes, could be. Sometimes an author's first published novel is their best, and sometimes they develop over time. Even if it was deliberate, I imagine that would be tough to maintain.I didn't notice that when I read it, but I can see it now you've pointed it out. I don't think its satire. Bernie Gunther remains a tough guy with a smartarse remark for every situation but its not as pronounced in the other books in the series. March Violets was the first so maybe its just the author finding his style.
Me neither, because I dont think such a thing exists.I dont classify it as high literature, at any rate![]()
O Man! Attend!
What does deep midnight's voice contend?
"I slept my sleep,
And now awake at dreaming's end:
The world is deep,
Deeper than day can comprehend.
Deep is its woe,
Joy - deeper than heart's agony:
Woe says: Fade! Go!
But all joy wants eternity,
- wants deep, deep, deep eternity!"
You don't? I'm interested in knowing why.Me neither, because I dont think such a thing exists.
Me neither, because I dont think such a thing exists.
The degree of Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing. Many of those degree holders go on to write literary fiction.MFA Problem? All results I get on it take me to help sections for Outlook users.
For my money, the best depictions of villains in Star Wars belong to brief PoV segments rather than attempts to make them protagonists. I think that the scenes from Zsinj's (well, General Melvar's) point of view in the Wraith Squadron X-Wing books are outstanding. Same with the chapter from Dooku's point of view in Matt Stover's Revenge of the Sith novel - it might even be the single best chapter of Star Wars writing ever. Pellaeon and Thrawn are justly praised. You get the idea.
But trying to stretch a villain out over a whole book (or in Karp's case, multiple books) rarely if ever works for me. Make the protagonist's villainy clear, and the book becomes an interminable read.
Fleming's Bond was unintentionally evil, but evil nonetheless, and that (along with Fleming's other defects as a writer) makes reading any old Bond story a slog.
A reader needs to be able to root for a protagonist rather than just disgustedly throwing the book away with a cry of "a plague on both your houses", but outright villain protagonists make that tough. I've never been satisfied with writers who try it. Something about it just rings wrong.
Well I mean, Captain Underpants sits on a shelf of its own. I am missing some of the books but I used to read them a lot. They were good fun.
That is partly because Scottish writers are legally obliged to write at least one story about somebody who went away, and has now returned, at least once every three years. Applies to prose, television and theatre. Can't be helped.The Steep Approach to Garbadale and Stonemouth are more 'prodigal returns' á la Crow Road
The place they're returning from is very often London, which puts the question of godforsaken wastelands into a somewhat different perspective.The question deep beneath this legislation is "why would anyone in their right mind return to such a godforsaken wasteland?" But then again, they're Scots, so probably scarred from the outset.