Susan Hated Literature

Author: Neil Gaiman
ISBN: 0755305078
DDC: 823.914

It begins, as most things begin, with a song

Fat Charlie is fat, but the nickname has stuck. It is his father’s fault, if Fat Charlie’s dad calls something by a nickname, then that nickname sticks. Fat Charlie’s dad, you see, is Anansi, the god. And he is dead. At the funeral Fat Charlie learns he has a brother, Spider, and that if ever he wants to see his brother he just has to tell a spider.

You can see that trouble is on its way.

This is a really enjoyable book, set in the same general ‘verse as Gaiman’s American Gods, but very different in style and tone. This is more of a comedy, albeit with flashes of darkness. Not a hugly laugh out loud comedy, but an amusing one, that’ll keep you entertained.

As usual with Gaiman there are some wonderful images and passages. Our first meeting with the bird lady. The descriptions of Graham Coats. And Fat Charlie’s life being upset by an unwanted guest

He climbed into the bath.
He made a whimpering noise.
He climbed out of the bath.
He turned off the taps.
He wrapped a towel around his midriff and opened the bathroom door. “No hot water,” he said, much, much too calmly.

Go on, you know you want to read it.

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Weird dreams last night; doubly weird as in my memory now they all happened at the same time. Which makes no sense whatsoever.

Dream #1 involved travelling somewhere^[1] on a train. Only the train was set up with three tows of three seats. I was at the edge of the middle row, and next to me was some girl drawing pictures. Only when the train pulled in^[2] there was a right grumpy wan taking tickets and making us stand waiting in a big giant holding pen. All very boring. And then I was chatting with de fadder on the mobile talking about a house^[3] that I owned, but wasn’t living in, and why didn’t I give it to brother #2 as he needed somewhere to stay for the night.
Still stuck in this big holding pen, which was outside, when a plane tried to land in the middle of us all. And then either the dream ended, or I just can’t remember what happened next.

^[4]

Dream #2 I have even less memory of. But I know it existed, and was strange. So despite offering not even the slightest hint of what it was about it still gets listed in “the list of last night’s weird dreams”. Something about two women, who were possibly zombies, possibly not. They were mother and daughter and were chasing some man around a room, that looked like a classroom. Possibly because I was reading Anansi Boys yesterday, and that had a mother and daughter. Although they were in danger from a man…

Dream #3. The weirdest^[5] I’m not sure exactly how it started off, but I know there were two girls, 18/19ish, and an older woman looking after them. And they were planning to be married, or hoping to might be more accurate. So they needed dresses, so the old woman sent the blonde one off to get clothes, and she was very specific. For some reason she had promised the brunette that she could wear red, so the blonde was told to get something red, and something blue.

Then, in one of those sudden jumps that dreams like to do, the blonde one was in a room with some fella, a really good prospective husband, and he had a dress. Which was red, and blondie knew that it was red^[6] from the blood of this fella’s^[7] previous wife. But she also knew that he would marry whomever wore the dress. And there was a fair chance that he’d kill them too. But it was the only red dress. Possibly in the entire world.^[8] So she took it with her, and tried to tell the brunette and the old woman but they either didn’t want to hear, or didn’t care. So brunette wore the blood red dress. I don’t think blondie got her new blue one, she was just waiting for hubby to kill brunette so she could marry him next. Why she wanted to marry him, I don’t know.

Like I said. Weird dreams.

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Like a yo-yo the internet connection at work is bouncing up and down. It is a tad annoying.

I was in a bit of a nostalgic mood last night. You know, real nostalgia, for a time that never existed and things the way they never were. Anyways, ended up watching TG4^[1] First up I got distracted by Meirligh which is a true crime programme. I’ve never actually watched it before, but this episode was all about some Australian mafia dude called Tromboli who came to live in Ireland for a while in the 70’s while on the run.

Obviously as a lot of the people interviewed weren’t Irish there was quite a bit in English, but there was one Australian woman who spoke Irish. Only she had a very strong Australian accent, and to be honest, hearing her speak Irish with an Aussie accent was threatening to make my ears bleed. But at the same time, she speaks better Irish than I do, so I shouldn’t complain.

By the way, Meirligh, I assume means on the run? Anyone know for sure?

Anyways, yer man died of cancer and the Australian cops never managed to make him dish the dirt on the “Honoured Society” that he was a member of.

And then we had Laochra Gael. Which was all about Donie Nealan.

And I have to say I was pleasantly surprised to be able to understand most of what was said, without reading the subtitles. Course if I had to say it, then it’d be a different story

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So y’all know what today marks dontcha?

Yup, that’s right, on the 28day of June in 1922^[1] the Irish Civil war broke out as the Free State government ordered the shelling of the Four Courts.

I guess it is in my mind because of TWTSTB, and of course, because of that film I have come to the conclusion that English^[2] people just cannot pronounce O’Donovan. So I want you all to practice, Oh Dun-uh-vun. Not Don as in a professor. That just aint wrong. dun, like he done his woman wrong. Got that? Good, it is quite important.

I’m returning to the issue of the World Cup, so switch off if you want

Only eight left in it now. And Anne, I have a confession. I was cheering for Spain last night. Still you should be happy, cause France won. And played well too, which was nice. by the end of the match I could even believe they might beat Brazil. But that’s getting ahead of ourselves.

I think it may be a sign of age, but didn’t the Spanish team look like group of kids? That Torres fella is so young and dotey looking. Not cute mind. Just a dote. The first time I saw them play I said “they look 12″ and okay, maybe I was exagerating a little, because one or two look 15 or 16, but overall. Young would be my impression of the Spainish.

Was at work, so didn’t watch the Ghana game. Poor Ghana. I didn’t have much hope that they’d beat Brazil, and I was right. But it would’ve been fun if they had.

I didn’t watch England play at the weekend, so maybe they’ve improved^[3] I was watching the hurling. Munster final so it was. Cork and tip. Again, I picked the wrong team and supported Tip, although I’m a big fan of Sean Óg’s, and Diarmuid O’Sullivan’s. And Donal Óg Cusack’s. But still, I spent too many summers in Tipperary not to support them when they are playing. Unless of course they are up against Limerick.

We’ve gone all quiet again in work. The American’s have their history tours this week so thay aren’t around, although I did have to help one student with his spelling yesterday as he wondered about Slainte and Dia Dhuit. Still, three day working week next week. Which will be ever so nice. We have the 4th off to celebrate the Fourth of July^[4] and as it is on a Tues, it seemed a bit silly to come back in on Mon, so I’ve taken the day off and will be in Sligo for a long weekend.

Mind you, I think that we should seriously consider introducing a three day weekend the whole year round. Anyone agree?

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Three posts in the one day, I must be busy at work!

Went to see The Wind That Shakes the Barley on Friday, and meant to post this then, but I forgot^[1] Is there a better actor out there at portraying pro-English propaganda than Roger Allam He was great in V for Vendetta as the “England Prevails” character, whatshisface Prothero. And in TWTSTB he gives another great, if small, performance as a p-spitting character^[2] This time wanting god to preserve Ireland from the likes of Damien & friends as they fight for independence, or in his words, create a priest-ridden backwater^[3]

It is a good film^[4] btw, if you get the chance, you should try and catch it. You may not get the chance if you are in the UK as I’ve read that it is getting a limited release, on account of being so anti-English as to make The Patriot pro-Empire. It isn’t, of course, but that is the way certain sections of the media have reported it. It doesn’t show the soldiers in a great light, but they are acting as Black & Tans and The Auxillaries. And many of them are actual British soldiers who told Ken Loach that that is exactly how they would act if faced with a hostile population. Without the random murders of course.

It hasn’t been released in the US yet.

I may go see it again at some stage this week.

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Today marks the tenth anniversary of the death of Veronica Guerin. For those of you who don’t know Guerin was a journalist who mainly wrote crime stories. Exposing drug lords and crime gangs.

She was shot and killed as she sat in her car at a red light on the Naas road.

In the aftermath of her murder, which the Taoiseach called an attack on democracy, there were numerous arrests, and the Criminal Assets Bureau was set up.

There were also two films made about her life. One changed names and was called When The Sky Falls. Andin 2003 Joel Schumacher directed another called Veronica Guerin.

In the wake of Guerin’s murder there were many statements saying that this had changed everything. And this fact was highlighted in Schumacher’s film, as it suggests that all of Ireland was utterly transformed and an end was brought to organised crime. Obviously this is untrue.

Organised crime is probably worse than ever at the moment. But what is almost as bad is the attitude that seems to surround these ‘gangland style’ shootings. And those horrible words that mark these types of murders, where it is stated that the victim was ‘known to the Gardai’. As though that is some sort of a code for “sure didn’t they deserve it, the scum, let them kill each other off’.

And even if you believe that those who live by the gun deserve to die by the gun, wouldn’t you consider the fact that ‘letting’ them kill each other does nothing but decrease the value of life. Remember the woman that was shot dead at a party because someone was refused entry and was drunk? Really think that would have happened if there wasn’t such a culture of guns in certain areas of Dublin?

Murder is murder no matter who commits it.

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Edit Welcome, Maniac Muslim peoples.

What’s the best thing about the World Cup? Why, Aprés match of course. And what is the best thing about Aprés Match? Why the fact that you can find them all over d’internet. My favourite so far; The Director for the Assimilation of Foreign Games into Gaelic Zones.

Plus, you know, the punching of a Brian kennedy, Chief Musical Gimp.

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