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Chargement... Knees Up Mother Earth (2004)par Robert Rankin
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Inscrivez-vous à LibraryThing pour découvrir si vous aimerez ce livre Actuellement, il n'y a pas de discussions au sujet de ce livre. The 7th book in the Brentford Trilogy and the second book in the Witches of Chiswick Trilogy. When Norman Hartnell of the paper shop collects a large amount of computer spare parts and builds himself a strangely Victorian-looking computer, it starts a string of events involving a buried serpent, Pooley becoming manager of Brentford football team (with Omalley as his PA), H.G. Wells and his Time Machine, and yet another evil corporation based in a pitch black building. I'm not sure that it made much sense, but it was very enjoyable. So, book seven in the Brentford trilogy eh? What Rankin does with Knees Up is very clever. He uses the same characters, the same plot (Brentonians to stop Armageddon) and a lot of the same gags that are present in many of the previous books. There's certainly a whole load of deja vu... and it's all good. The scenario of football is cleverly woven in to the Brentford mythology and creates a raft of new options for Rankin's masterful use of humour, running gags, insightful use of language and even some suspense. Rankin clearly enjoyed writing this book. Knees up is a slow starter but builds up well to an enjoyable conclusion. It's a tad too long as well, but certainly recommended. A sequel for two of Rankin’s ongoing series (The Brentford Trilogy, of which this is Book Seven, and the Witches Of Chiswick Trilogy, of which this is Book Two), and one that would have been better to read before the World Cup, since it’s about football. Like all of Rankin’s books, it’s good silly fun, though for once the title seems quite forced. But is that really any good reason to criticize a book? It is not. And did I mention they make fun of David Beckham and Manchester United a little? aucune critique | ajouter une critique
Appartient à la série
There's big trouble in little Brentford. Property developers are planning to destroy the borough's beloved football ground and build executive homes on the site. Shock! Outrage! Horror! Something must be done to halt this iconoclasm. The lads of The Flying Swan, Brentford's most celebrated drinking house, take up the challenge. Norman the corner shopkeeper has some ideas. He's recently discovered a Victorian computer which holds the plans to the secret super-technology of a bygone age. And Archroy, Brentford's lone yachtsman and explorer, has just returned from his seventh voyage, bringing with him the fabled Golden Fleece. There's Jim Pooley and John Omally, unemployed bachelors of this parish. And that Victorian time traveller who's crash-landed on the allotments. Surely with all these stalwarts working for the cause, Brentford's football ground can be saved? Would it were so, but this is Brentford and ancient forces of evil are forever stirring in the borough: Old Testament terrors, Lovecraftian loathsomes and beasties from the bottomless pit. And if the team make it through to the final, it's going to be a match that no one will forget. What with the fate of mankind hanging upon the result. And everything. In this, the first ever Book of Brentford, which is also the second book in The Witches of Chiswick trilogy, the Father of Far Fetched Fiction spins an epic yarn which will no doubt become a modern classic. Aucune description trouvée dans une bibliothèque |
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Google Books — Chargement... GenresClassification décimale de Melvil (CDD)823.914Literature English & Old English literatures English fiction Modern Period 1901-1999 1945-1999Classification de la Bibliothèque du CongrèsÉvaluationMoyenne:
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Inside, you will find a tale of surrealist lunacy, set in the West London suburb of Brentford. Never having been to the real Brentford, I can't say how much the novel maps onto the real world, though some of the locations are certainly real. The events are not; eldritch ancient forces line up in opposition to each other for the fate of the world, under the pretext of the FA Cup competition and a football team that starts out as an unlikely bunch of characters and then gets weirder as the story unwinds.
Rankin knows his popular British culture and his fantastic literature; many beings, real and imagined, are namechecked (some of them in the style of Mrs Malaprop). The writing style is clunky; it reminded me of fan writing, trying way too hard to be funny (if I never read a description of a thing being 'of the [such-and-such] persuasion' again, it'll be too soon); and yet I often found myself laughing out loud. The lunacy all hangs together, despite everything.
The cast of characters seems to include a number of walk-ons from other novels in the Brentford Trilogy. This may be a bad sign that I could be susceptible to reading more Rankin despite my reservations. ( )