Reading Matters

'Guardian Work' by Ian Carpenter

Humour - paperback; Beautiful Books; 222 pages; 2008. Review copy courtesy of the publisher.

It's always nice to try something a little left-of-field when you're between novels and not sure what to read next, a "palette cleanser" if you will.

Guardian Work by Ian Carpenter popped through the post yesterday courtesy of the publisher and while it's not something I would normally rush out and buy, I was intrigued by the premise -- an Essex-based property manager decides to apply for every job listed in one issue of the Guardian newspaper to see what might arise. Earlier today I thought I'd read a chapter or two before getting on with other bits and pieces, and before I knew it a couple of hours had flown by and I'd finished the entire book! Yes, it's a quick and easy read, but it's also a very funny one.

Apparently Ian's "project"  was recounted via his blog over the six-month period that it took him to apply for all the jobs listed in the September 29, 2007 issue of the Guardian. Along the way he visited a Swiss banker who wanted to employ his parent's cat; got mired in an endless cycle of "telephone tennis" with a firm looking to recruit an operations manager; was invited to take part in a money laundering scheme fronted by a chap supposedly running an art gallery; and had a run in with a firm operating a covert operation which warned him not to pass on any information to anyone outside the enforcement community. (His reply, to the latter, was hilarious: "I withdraw my application for your job. It all sounds a bit cloak and dagger to me.")

He also applied for various high-profile positions that were not advertised in the newspaper, such as the manager of the English football team and head of the Liberal Democrats.

To be perfectly frank, the book doesn't break any new ground, because we've seen this "trick" done before. In fact, I think it's probably Robin Cooper's fault, because it was his The Time Waster Letters, published in 2004, which ushered in a whole new genre of books based on the kooky correspondence between bored men and officialdom.

But Guardian Work is still a rather enjoyable romp that had me tittering in quite a few places, especially as I have been on the receiving end of some questionable job applications in the past. I'm now beginning to wonder if the would-be reporter whose cover letter informed me she had the "ability to wake up beautiful every morning" wasn't winding me up for the purposes of writing a book like this one!

'The Enlarged Devil's Dictionary' by Ambrose Bierce

Humour - paperback; Penguin Classics; 336 pages; 2001. Review copy courtesy of publisher.

Remember my post about Blog a Penguin Classic? I was one of the lucky ones who registered with the site and a couple of weeks later received a free book on the condition I'd read and review it within six weeks.

With the six-week deadline fast approaching, I decided it was time I actually cracked open the book and took a proper look at it. The Enlarged Devil's Dictionary, written by 19th century journalist Ambrose Bierce, is not something you would normally sit down and read cover to cover, unless, of course, you have a penchant for reading dictionaries in their entirety. As much as I love using dictionaries -- I couldn't do my day job or the majority of my blog posts without access to one -- I'm not so nerdy about words that I would take something like this to bed with me for a little light reading. That would feel too much like hard work, right?

However, The Enlarged Devil's Dictionary is not your usual run-of-the-mill dictionary. It's a full-scale satire -- and despite being written more than 100 years ago it contains some very funny entries as Bierce makes light work of religion, marriage, politics and society. Here are some of my favourites:

Brandy, n. A cordial composed of one part thunder-and-lightning, one part remorse, two parts bloody murder, one part death-hell-and-the-grave, two parts clarified Satan and four parts holy Moses! Dose, a headfull all the time. Brandy is said, by Emerson, I think, to be the drink of heroes. I certainly should not advise others to tackle it. By the way, it is rather good.

Christmas, n. A day set apart and consecrated to gluttony, drunkenness, maudlin sentiment, gift-taking, public dullness and domestic behaviour.

Dentist, n. A prestidigitator, who puts metal into your mouth and pulls coins out of your pocket.

See what I mean about it still being rather relevant?

But the best bit about this book is the story of how it came about: the introduction by Ernest Jerome Hopkins explains how Bierce's work, largely written between 1881 and 1886 when he was one of the most powerful journalists working in America, came to be published in one volume.

The original idea for a satirical dictionary was born in 1869 when Bierce was working as a columnist for a small financial magazine in San Francisco called the News Letter. He normally filled 'The Town Crier' page with satirical comment and criticism, but during one particularly "dead" week in which topics seemed to have dried up, Bierce penned a piece about the Webster's Unabridged dictionary and how a comic dictionary would be much more fun to read.

Fast forward a few years and Bierce began writing that dictionary and publishing various instalments in whatever newspaper he happened to be editing at the time. It wasn't until he was editor of William Randolph Heart's Examiner that he finally managed to compile all the entries that he could find into a book for publication.

This Penguin Classic version of the dictionary, first published in 1967, brings together a whole host of entries that were lost or forgotten (hence it is subtitled With 851 Newly Discovered Words and Definitions Added to the Previous Thousand-Word Collection).  It will delight anyone who appreciates wit, rather than humour, and revels in word play and doesn't mind the odd bit of poetry (Bierce was also an accomplished poet). In fact, Bierce himself said it would be ideally suited to those "enlightened souls who prefer dry wines to sweet, sense to sentiment" -- and I tend to agree.

While a little long-winded and trying-too-hard-to-be-clever in places, I know this book is going to be one of those titles I will dip into whenever I'm in search of some much-needed cheer. I defy anyone to read it without smirking at least once.

'The Joy of Letting Women Down' by Natalie D'Arbeloff

Humour - hardcover; Robson Books; 160 pages; 2000. Review copy courtesy of the author.

If you've ever wondered why stunningly ugly men, usually old and quite rich, end up with devastatingly gorgeous super models on their arms, then The Joy of Letting Women Down will reveal all. You see these stunningly ugly men might be rich and they might be old but they are pure specimens of the "Worshipped Male" and they know every trick in the book to attract - and keep - those devastatingly gorgeous super models we admire from afar.

And that's what this book does best: illuminate all the games Worshipped Males (read womanisers) play to seduce and trap members of the opposite sex, and, in doing so, exposes the (staggering) differences between the genders.

It also explores the unspoken rules of engagement when it comes to negotiating that delicate thing called a RELATIONSHIP. (For instance, there's a whole chapter on "punishments and tortures" that Worshipped Males employ to keep their chosen women begging for more. One of these so-called punishments is this: "Phone her very late at night and pour out your troubles at length. She will urge you to come over at once so that she can comfort you. Decline this offer, without saying where you are and hang up with a sigh. She will be unable to get back to sleep, worrying and fretting. You should keep this up for several hours - phoning back, talking some more, hanging up, waiting, calling again, etc.")

I laughed out loud a lot while reading this short "instruction manual". I sniggered too. And occasionally I nodded my head in agreement or recognition (I know a few female work colleagues who need to read this book!)

The black and white illustrations throughout are delightful, but I wouldn't expect anything less from the woman who has given us Blaugustine, an online cartoon alter ego that makes delightful reading.

And while The Joy of Letting Women Down isn't my "normal" reading matter, I quite enjoyed my foray into something a little "off beat".

* * *

The Joy of Letting Women Down, published by Robson Books, is available by mail order via Amazon.co.uk.

You can also purchase signed copies direct from the author for the reduced price of £3 (plus postage) per book. For further information, just send an e-mail to augustine DOT nda AT blueyonder DOT co DOT uk

'Phaic Tan: Sunstroke on a Shoestring (Jetlag Travel Guide)' by Santo Cilauro, Tom Gleisner and Rob Sitch

Humour - paperback; Hardie Grant Books; 252 pages; 2004.

I don't normally review books by quoting great slabs of text or "lifting" the entire blurb, but with this laugh-out-loud spoof travel guide I couldn't resist, and so, I quote from the back cover:

For too long now Phaic Tan has been closed off to the outside world, a country visited each year by just a handful of hardy travellers, aid agency workers and hostage negotiators. But now, thanks to this fully up-dated Jetlag guide, everything you need to know about planning a trip to Phaic Tan, birthplace of the trouser press and irritable bowel syndrome, is here.

Up until 5 August 2005, this book was unavailable outside of Australia, where I happened to pick this up last Christmas on the recommendation of some friends. The team behind this very funny book are well-known in Australian comedy circles, having written and directed many of their own television shows as well as a couple of feature length movies (The Castle and The Dish).

Essentially Phaic Tan - a completely made-up country somewhere in South-East Asia - continues the piss-taking theme presented in the first Jetlag Travel Guide, Molvania: A Land Untouched by Modern Dentistry. It's like any legitimate travel guide by Lonely Planet or the Rough Guide, complete with recommendations on where to eat and sleep, the attractions to see, historical facts and handy tips on how to get on with the locals - except it's all completely fiction, of course.

Here's some examples:

When it comes to people, Phaic Tan is a true melting pot where, for centuries, the population has absorbed a wide range of ethnic influences. In more recent times they have absorbed a wide range of heavy metals, the result of unregulated copper mining, all of which contribute to the unique national character.

AND

Canals have always formed a major part of Bumpattabumpahn life and just about anywhere in the city can be reached quickly by local boatmen, adept at negotiating the narrow, interlaced waterways. So skilled are these oarsmen that in 1999 a squad of Phaic Tanese rowers came very close to qualifying for the Sydney Olympics, only missing out on selection when they stopped short of the finishing line to trade vegetables with the South Korean team.

On every page there's at least three laughs, so it's high on comedic value. A lot of the comedy involves word play, some great tongue-in-cheek captioning (there are photographs and illustrations throughout) and a lot of sarcastic wit.

And, in case you're wondering, the only reason I have given Phaic Tan a three-star rating is because this series is a bit of a one-trick pony: part of the joy of the first book was its novelty value because no-one had ever written a book lampooning the bloated travel guide market.

If you've not read either book, then the decision is yours: both are equally hilarious.

'Molvania: A Land Untouched by Modern Dentistry (Jetlag Travel Guide S.)' by Santo Cilauro, Tom Gleisner and Rob Sitch

Humour - paperback; Hardie Grant Books; 176 pages; 2004.

If you are like me and are somewhat addicted to travel guides, be they Lonely Planet, Rough Guides or something similar, you will greatly appreciate Molvania: A Land Untouched by Modern Dentistry.

Written by a team of Australian comedians — the same men behind the films The Dish and The Castle and the current-affairs mockumentary series Frontline — this is a spoof travel guide for a fictional nation located somewhere in the Baltic region of the former USSR.

In the best travel guide tradition it provides a wealth of advice on places to stay, the best places to eat, the sights to see and intriguing little snippets about the country's social and cultural history, all interspersed with amusing photographs and illustrations.

By turns completely realistic and laugh-out loud funny, it is one of the most entertaining reads I have had in a long while. On every single page there is something that will grab your funny bone and have you chuckling uncontrollably. For this reason, my advice is not to read it in public. It's also not advisable to read it while you have a friend in the room because you will spend all your time annoying them by saying, "hey, listen to this", as you regale them with insights from the book, and then, before you know it, you will be reading the whole thing out loud in between bouts of laughter.

Some random examples to prove my point:

The famous statue of Helmzlog III (the 'Liberator of Lutenblag') stands in the centre of the busy main square, holding aloft a sword and what was for years assumed to be a shield, but has recently turned out — upon closer examination — to be the grille from a Fiat 350.

Many visitors will no doubt have heard of the Gyrorik Art Gallery, an institution that made headlines a few years back when its curator Vbrec Mzecjenj suspected a Rembrandt landscape in the  gallery's possession may, in fact, have been  painted over a rare, and far more valuable, self-portrait of the Dutch master. Under the curator's guidance a painstaking restoration process was commenced in which the outer layer of the painting was delicately stripped away.  The work took almost 16 months and eventually revealed nothing underneath. With the original work destroyed, all that remained of value was the frame which now holds  a copy of Mr Mzecjenj's letter of resignation.

And if that wasn't enough, my favourite section of the entire book is not related to the actual travel writing but to the short biographies assigned to each of the fictional authors who have created the book. For example:

Trudi Dennes: Trudi has lived and worked in Japan for over 10 years. She now works in the department of classical history at Tokyo University. Trudi has never visited Molvania and was assigned to this guide due to a staffing error.

My only quibble with this very clever and comical book is that it gets a bit "samey" after awhile. It's definitely not one to read cover to cover, but one to dip in and out of over an extended period of time. It's perfect light reading to lift your mood and bring a smile to your dial should you need one.

'The Timewaster Letters' by Robin Cooper

Humour - paperback; Michael O'Mara Books; 192 pages; 2004.

This is quite possibly the funniest book I have ever read. Basically it's a series of letters, written by the fictional Robin Cooper, asking obscure questions or making obscure requests which have been sent to obscure, often intriguingly named, organisations throughout Britain. The ensuing real life correspondence, which often gets more absurd with each passing letter, is published in its full, shameless and unabashed glory.

In his letters Cooper asks all kinds of whimsical, nonsensical and outlandish questions, which are hilarious in themselves. But the big laughs come when you read the often tactful, polite and inane ways with which they are answered.

This isn't my normal kind of read. The book doesn't tell a story as such. It's just a fascinating and very funny collection of letters that should only be read in the privacy of your own home: unless, of course, you don't mind hooting with laughter in public places.