- Hardcover: 160 pages
- Publisher: Carroll & Graf Publishers (September 1997)
- Language: English
- ISBN-10: 078670456X
- ISBN-13: 978-0786704569
- Product Dimensions: 23 x 15.4 x 2.4 cm
- Shipping Weight: 440 g
- Average Customer Review: 5.0 out of 5 stars See all reviews (1 customer review)
- Amazon Bestsellers Rank: #1,583,352 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
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Product Details |
Product Description
From Library Journal
Though the late novelist had tried narrative verse before (in Moses, 1976), this strictly metered tale of a footloose Irish rake and his ennui-ridden offspring initially surprises but ultimately unravels. In cleverly?often ribaldly?rhymed ottava rima, Burgess (A Clockwork Orange) follows the escapades of Michael Byrne ("He loved the tuba, trumpets and trombones,/ Which smote his very scrotum with their groans") as he beds his way from post-Great War London to Nazi Germany and beyond, leaving a series of wives, lovers, children, film scores, and garish erotic paintings in his wake. The saga romps along comically a la Tom Jones for a third of its length but takes a grim, enervating turn when the narrative flashes forward to the 1990s and bogs down in the dispiriting neuroses of Byrne's twin children, Tom and Tim: one castrated, the other a priest. Though it continues to amuse in a barbed, wise-guy professorial way, Burgess's work eventually descends into pure cartoon, a linguistically fascinating but imbalanced farce.?Fred Muratori, Cornell Univ. Lib., Ithaca,
Copyright 1997 Reed Business Information, Inc.
Copyright 1997 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Kirkus Reviews
The prolific (over 50 books) and protean Burgess (191793), author of such amazingly varied fictions as Enderby (1967), Napoleon Symphony (1974), and A Dead Man in Deptford (1995), left this rambunctious ``novel in verse'' completed at his death. Borrowing both Byron's ottava rima and the nine-line stanza Spenser employed in The Faerie Queen (and throwing in a few sonnets for good measure), Burgess's anonymous narrator celebrates and regrets the gluttonous life indulged by his Falstaffian subject--an Irish Don Juan if there ever was one. The eponymous Michael Byrne achieves fame as artist, composer, and cocksman as he beds willing women and fathers disgruntled children, surviving political and erotic dangers in Hitler's Germany before disappearing into the Far East, and legend. The ``fruits of his insemination'' pursue their own dreams and flee their own demons (one is a priest, another author apocalyptic reunion with their Aged (and Unregenerate) Parent. Punk terrorists and Muslim fanatics bent on dishonoring Dante Alighieri also join in this word-drunk romp, which is distinguished by literally dozens of ingeniously brilliant comic rhymes: SS-men boozily strutting their stuff express ``the joy of being drunk and Aryan./Though Hitler was a teetotalitarian,'' and an enlightened defense of the maligned Albert Einstein becomes ``How the hell has his Jewishness impaired/The formula E=Mc2?'' It isn't easy to stop quoting. Surely, somewhere Byron is rolling over in his grave. Laughing. It's heartening to learn from this wonder-filled book that, right up to the end of his life, the invaluable Burgess continued to enjoy writing as few writers have ever done. This is a swan song like no other, and one of the most delightful books of the decade. -- Copyright ©1997, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved.
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Most helpful customer reviews
5.0 out of 5 stars
Burgess's Byrne great versifying fun,
By jwhursey@dispatch.com (Columbus Ohio) - See all my reviews
This review is from: Byrne (Hardcover)
How can I describe "Byrne," a book by Burgess / (Anthony)? Putative novel, his last (O sorrow!). / 'S about one Michael Byrne, a "defective lecherous / Dreamer," all in ottava rima, (borrowed / From Ariosto), but which, to be sure, here is / Livelier and more fun than a carload / Of television sitcoms, no matter they / Be on Sunday, Wednesday or Saturday. / More Rabelaisian and Rabelais, / Out-Byrons Byron's endless long "Don Juan," / Satire, outrageous rhymes, in many ways / Better than Happy Hour, a ten-cent brew one / Downs; a treat for e'en those who're too laz- / Y or wary of poetic doin'. / Relax, sit back, you've got a lot to learn / From this wild poetic novel 'titled "Byrne." / "Why choose this agony of versifying / Instead of tapping journalistic prose?" / Burgess asks, but we know he's simply trying / To have some fun, which, as everybody knows, / 'S not easy in this oft PC-ifying / World where everything--and nothing--goes. / Burgess shows that poetry can be fun, / Hilariously accessible to everyone. / Well p'rhaps not everyone. Halfway through he / Briefly changes to a different scheme, / A loftier prosody, more chewy, / Used by dreary Spenser in "Fairie Queene" / (Which we all suffered through in academe). / Meanwhile Tim and Tom appear, reprehend / Vanished pater, etcetera. I deem / "Byrne" versifying fun, it recommend. / It's one of those, you hate to see it end. ---James Hursey
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Most Helpful Customer Reviews on Amazon.com (beta) Amazon.com:
5.0 out of 5 stars (1 customer review) 10 of 19 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars
Burgess's Byrne great versifying fun,
By jwhursey@dispatch.com - Published on Amazon.com
This review is from: Byrne (Hardcover)
How can I describe "Byrne," a book by Burgess / (Anthony)? Putative novel, his last (O sorrow!). / 'S about one Michael Byrne, a "defective lecherous / Dreamer," all in ottava rima, (borrowed / From Ariosto), but which, to be sure, here is / Livelier and more fun than a carload / Of television sitcoms, no matter they / Be on Sunday, Wednesday or Saturday. / More Rabelaisian and Rabelais, / Out-Byrons Byron's endless long "Don Juan," / Satire, outrageous rhymes, in many ways / Better than Happy Hour, a ten-cent brew one / Downs; a treat for e'en those who're too laz- / Y or wary of poetic doin'. / Relax, sit back, you've got a lot to learn / From this wild poetic novel 'titled "Byrne." / "Why choose this agony of versifying / Instead of tapping journalistic prose?" / Burgess asks, but we know he's simply trying / To have some fun, which, as everybody knows, / 'S not easy in this oft PC-ifying / World where everything--and nothing--goes. / Burgess shows that poetry can be fun, / Hilariously accessible to everyone. / Well p'rhaps not everyone. Halfway through he / Briefly changes to a different scheme, / A loftier prosody, more chewy, / Used by dreary Spenser in "Fairie Queene" / (Which we all suffered through in academe). / Meanwhile Tim and Tom appear, reprehend / Vanished pater, etcetera. I deem / "Byrne" versifying fun, it recommend. / It's one of those, you hate to see it end. ---James Hursey
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