The great Irish humorist and writer Flann O'Brien, aka Brian O'Nolan, aka Myles na Gopaleen, also wrote a newspaper column called "Cruiskeen Lawn." The Best of Myles collects the best and funniest, covering such subjects as plumbers, the justice system, and improbable inventions.
is a selection from the newspaper articles of Flann O鈥橞rien, author of and . The pieces, all for The Irish Times, were written initially under the pseudonym An Broc which means the badger. The name was then changed to An Cruiskeen Lawn, which means the full little jug, but was soon switched to Myles na gCopaleen and then to the definitive version, Myles na Gopaleen. (It seems the reviewer has been reading Wikipedia -FO'B)
Erm...the name Myles na Gopaleen means 鈥楳yles of the little horses鈥�. (The correct translation is 鈥楳yles of the ponies鈥�; the principality of the pony should never be subjugated to the imperialism of the horse - 贵翱鈥橞). Flann O鈥橞rien was against imperialism on principle, needless to say. (Why say it in that case? And if there鈥檚 any whiskey in the case, I鈥檒l have some of it -贵翱鈥橞).
The..the articles appeared regularly from the early 1940s until shortly before Mr O'Brien, who must surely qualify as Ireland's greatest comic genius, d-died on April 1st 1966. (Just say I died on April Fool鈥檚 Day and be done with it -贵翱鈥橞).
The n..name Myles na Gopaleen was inspired by a character in Dion Boucicault鈥檚 play, , which dates from 1860. In Boucicault's melodrama, aimed at American audiences, Myles was a lovelorn Irish peasant who..who distilled alcohol in his spare time. (No half-measures, please, Myles was a full-time poteen maker and drinker - 贵翱鈥橞).
Another of Boucicault鈥檚 plays had inspired O鈥橞rien鈥檚 compatriot James Joyce to borrow the character Shaun from , written in 1864. Shaun became a central figure in , which incidentally was published in 1939, the same year as O鈥橞rien鈥檚 first novel, . (Do you have to underline that I will be forever eclipsed by Joyce? - 贵翱鈥橞).
While the first few pieces Flann O'Brien contributed to The Irish Times were written in the Irish language, the rest were written completely in English. (That is not accurate: the columns frequently reverted to Irish, eg, the 'Corkadorka' articles were written in Irish and several sections of 'The Brother' series were written in a version of Irish transliterated for English speakers, eg, 鈥榖ee kuramack lay the hell鈥� which means, 'be more careful please'. Another set of articles, 'Literally from the Irish', though in English they were written, an Irish syntax they were having - FO鈥橞)
The..the topics covered in range from steam trains to music, from the shortage of alcohol during the war to the abundance of 肠濒颈肠丑茅 during the same period. (What is a list of things always said to do? Range. What is always the opposite of a shortage? An abundance -FO'B (groaning)).
S...since Mr O鈥橞rien鈥檚 two best known novels, and were completed before he began writing for The Irish Times, many critics believe that..that directing his energies towards filling a daily newspaper column with ever more witty and creative material prevented the author from fulfilling his destiny as the leading Irish novelist of the twentieth century. (What action must always be taken in relation to our energies? They must be directed. What must a destiny always be? Fulfilled. I begin to suspect this reviewer hasn鈥檛 read the book. If she had, she鈥檇 have learned from the 鈥楾he Catechism of Clich茅鈥� section to avoid such worn-out phrases - 贵翱鈥橞).
Hmm...while was greeted with acclaim (groan -FO鈥橞), a fire in the warehouse where the copies were stored meant that it didn鈥檛 reach a very wide audience. was similarly ill-fated also unlucky: it failed to find a publisher and the manuscript was subsequently mislaid lost. It didn鈥檛 surface again until after Mr O鈥橞rien鈥檚 death. (It was not lost, it was simply lying in the back of a drawer. And before you say anything smart, and I feel you are working up to it, I鈥檓 entitled, as the author of 'The Catechism of Clich茅', to create a 肠濒颈肠丑茅d destiny for my own manuscript if I choose -贵翱鈥橞).
However, some of the ideas and scenarios from apparently made their way from the back of the drawer into a later novel called which was published in 1964. Incidentally, James Joyce is a character in that novel - after forging his own obituary to avoid being drafted into the army in 1939, he turns up in a village on the outskirts of Dublin where, under an assumed name, he works as a barman. (The reviewer has been reading Wikipedia again I see -贵翱鈥橞).
Phew...I think there is nothing more to be said except that is only one of the selections from Flann O鈥� Brian's journalistic career that now exist. The following titles are also available:
(Someone is surely buying a lot of pints with the royalties from all these books and it certainly isn't me -FO鈥橞. Furthermore, what completely non-existent thing is invariably stated to be there? The nothing more that often remains to be said. Ok, in what direction should I now shut? Up. 贵翱鈥橞).
This bumper-sized collection of Cruiskeen Lawn columns runs to 400 pages in a small 10pt font. You would be mistaken for thinking this covers his entire career at the Irish Times. In fact, it only covers from 1940-1945. Begad!
Bearing this in mind, his output was extraordinary. The range of wit, erudition, linguistic skill and creativity is outrageous. Among the funniest columns are the "Research Bereau," "The Brother" and the "Catechism of Clich茅." O'Brien is at his finest when taking a ridiculous idea and stretching it to breaking point.
His grasp of language is also amazing. This book bedazzles with endless wordplay and puns. There are also frequent forays into Latin and French, as well as an entire section written in Gaelic. The section "Miscellenous" is less successful. There are one too many rambling and baffling columns here, and the book does seem to run on forever.
Still: a top read and the definitive collection of O'Brien's articles and genius during wartime Ireland. A pint of Flann is your only man.
A good deal of this collection was beyond my comprehension -- being firmly rooted in a time and place that I have scant knowledge of. What can you expect of a book that consists of thirty years' work by a newspaper columnist (and novelist), however brilliant? However, even though the average reader isn't privileged to understand all the references Myles makes to local concerns, at times his columns hit a mark of comic brilliance that is unmatched.
Consider, for example, several columns devoted to Myles' concept of "Buchhandlung" - perennial favorites of mine. Myles' idea was that most people would rather appear to be well read than to actually be well read. So, in a fine entrepreneurial scheme, he proposes setting up a "Bookhander" service -- he will personally come in and give your library the well-thumbed look that makes it seem you have read all those impressive tomes. "Why should a wealthy person... be put to the trouble of pretending to read at all? Why not a professional book-handler to go in and suitably maul his library for so-much a shelf? Such a person, if properly qualified, could make a fortune."
He then goes through a litany of the types of "handling" that he would be willing to do - and how much each type would cost, from "Popular Handling" (including insertion of tram tickets or other casual book marks to dog-earing four pages per volume) to "Premier Handling" (insertion of cryptic learned marginalia, extensive underlining, the insertion of a leaflet in French on the works of Victor Hugo).
Miles spins out this idea for an impressive number of pages. And if you can read it without tears of laughter streaming down your face, then there's little hope for you in this world of strife.
A collection of humorous columns written by Brian O鈥橬olan for the , and which for legal reasons appeared in that newspaper under a pseudonym de plume (false name for a French goose quill). 鈥淢yles na cGopaleen,鈥� the newspapers call him (pronounced Flann O鈥橞rien, Gaelic orthography being what it is鈥攁nd 鈥淔lann鈥� means 鈥淚rish,鈥� don鈥檛 you know).
The book is divided into chapters, with O鈥橞rien鈥檚 columns grouped together by subject. The first chapter, describing the activities of the WAAMA (the Irish Writers, Actors, Artists, Musicians Association) is screwball comedy. The type of humor employed in the columns included in the chapter on inventions (representing the work of the Myles na gCopaleen Central Research Bureau) and the chapter on different types of bores is closer to the satire typical of publications like .
The subject that gets the greatest amount of attention in O鈥橞rien鈥檚 book is that of 肠濒颈肠丑茅s. This is not entirely surprising: as columnist for the Irish Times (and writer and editor for the student journal Blather at --see for this early work), it is likely O鈥橞rien saw many feints at communication choked by the weeds of their own verbiage (FWIW, in the contemporary moment, with the , ultra-modern electronic communication devices, and {肠濒颈肠丑茅 alert!} 鈥渘ew and improved鈥� forms of invasive advertising, we all enjoy {?} enhanced opportunities of collecting and trading overused phrases that far outstrip anything we dream O鈥橞rien could have dreamed. Or do I dream?)
As of this writing, Wikipedia says that "a may sometimes be used in a work of fiction for comedic effect.鈥� In fact, O鈥橞rien wrote a novel employing this technique: in , he parodies the language and situations common to the a popular genre of Irish fiction in which is represented the miserable and poverty-stricken life of a protagonist and his or her people. One example of this type of novel is Peg, in which 鈥渞ecounts her life, especially the latter half, as a series of misfortunes in which much of her family die by disease, drowning or other mishap鈥� (thanks again, Wikipedia).
In the newspaper articles included in The Best of Myles, O鈥橞rien employs a number of techniques to make fun of 肠濒颈肠丑茅s. For instance, in addition to parodying the language of bureaucrats, art critics and lawyers, he deploys 肠濒颈肠丑茅s ironically, calling attention to them by employing them but setting them off from the rest of the passage in which they appear through the use of parentheses. He includes humorous stories representing absurd situations, the 鈥減unch lines鈥� to which are cliches (or puns or spoonerisms constructed from the same), the effect of which is to suggest that only in the context of such fantastic situations could these worn-out phrases become meaningful once again. In one chapter, he makes fun of the 肠濒颈肠丑茅 by employing the form of the catechism, implying that some 肠濒颈肠丑茅s have become so rigid as to have become part of ideological dogma. As well, he analyzes passages from speeches and from newspaper articles employing hackneyed phrases and shows how these contribute to imprecision of meaning. It was while reading some of these latter that I had to reach for a copy of the essay in which comments on 鈥渄ying metaphors,鈥� 鈥減retentious diction鈥� and 鈥渕eaningless words,鈥� and argues that the English language 鈥渂ecomes ugly and inaccurate because our thoughts are foolish, but the slovenliness of our language makes it easier for us to have foolish thoughts.鈥� In that essay, the first of Orwell's six 鈥渞ules鈥� for increased precision in communication reads: 鈥淣ever use a metaphor, simile or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.鈥� Orwell does not mention it, but I would add that the exception to this rule would be that you could use a metaphor, simile or figure of speech that you are used to seeing in print if you are using it for its entertainment value, as O鈥橞rien does.
At this point, I would want to suggest that O鈥橞rien鈥檚 employment of 肠濒颈肠丑茅 as a comic device substantiates 鈥檚 notion that a medium, once replaced by a newer medium, becomes the content of that newer medium鈥攂ut that鈥檚 a whole other essay that would take me far(ther) off the topic鈥攖hat being that Flann O鈥橞rien鈥檚 The Best of Myles is a funny book (frequently LOL funny) and that it has makes some very good points about language and communication.
Et ca suffit. Enough is enough.
Acquired May 17, 2010 Powell's City of Books, Portland, OR
The Myles na gCopaleen catechism of 肠濒颈肠丑茅 What, as to the quality of solidity, imperviousness, and firmness, are facts? Hard. And as to temperature? Cold. To what do hard facts belong? The situation. And to what does a cold fact belong? The matter. What must we do to the hard facts of the situation? Face up. What does a cold fact frequently still do? Remain. And what is notoriously useless as a means of altering the hard facts of the situation? All the talk in the world. I would argue that all authors and journalists should be forced to read the catechism of 肠濒颈肠丑茅, even before they start on Orwell. Apart from that, the best of this book is when O鈥橞rien is mercilessly lampooning (what quality must be lacking from the act of lampooning? Mercy) all sorts of stock characters (in what location would we generally be advised to seek our characters? The stock) in particular know-it-alls, smug DIY-ers and other bores of various stripes. Essential chapters are Bores, the Brother, WAAMA et cetera, some of Irish and Other matters, For steam men, and some of The plain people of Ireland. But it should be said this book needed much more stringent editing (what, with regard to attention to detail, is editing? Ok fine I'll stop...).
All the best ingredients of O'Brien's other works can be felt here; unfortunately time has struck too many blows to its relevance, accessibility and appeal. I'm sure it's original audience fell easily under the spell of multi-page jokes about feudal land tenure (presented with a heavy smattering of now-incomprehensible middle-English legal jargon) but too many large swathes of this book go over the modern reader's head.
This sort of book is difficult to rate. Taken individually, the pieces in the book are very funny, witty, intelligent and sometimes surreal. If I was reading Myles piece once a day in the Irish Times with the different formats spread around through the year, then I'd give the content 4 stars, but as a collection the pieces suffer in context. Two or three "Keats & Chapman" sketches or The Brother pieces are amusing, but after 45 pages of Keats and Chapman, it's hard to raise even a wry smile at the puns. So the format of the book takes the star rating down to about 2. So I split the difference and gave it 3.
The best of Myles, the best of Flann. Some absolute gold in this. I'd suggest this format suited him nearly better than the novel did (sacrilegious, I know) but there is a density of both form and humour here that is intimidating and enticing. I'm tempted to start his other collections immediately, or possibly never read anything else ever again.
Up there with Cre Na Cille for essential texts for understanding modern Ireland.
You can ignore this as a review, because it is a personal musing for myself on how this book contributes to the specific self-discovery and world-connection I built from books.
Is this part of the turning spindle of my self? Or is it not yet totally absorbed, an orbiting spark at the end of a gossamer carbon fiber? I'll probably never be certain; a namesake is a strong connection but not a clear one, not across an ocean and a continent and a hair over 24 years between his death and my birth.
Anyway, it's a stand-in, for his novels and letters and nonsense and nebulous style. It's got some of his best work (the book-mauling service and its effects) but also鈥攚hat a gift to have a beloved book I can put on my shelf with this title.
Hilarious! That's not hyperbole, this book is literally hilarious; it makes me laugh out loud every time I pick it up. It's huge, packed full of the best parts of the satirical column that Myles na gCopaleen (aka Flann O'Brien, aka Brian O'Nolan) wrote in The Irish Times until his death in 1966, so it's not a book that you're going to read straight through, but just knowing that this volume is on my shelf, ready for me to pick up whenever I need a laugh, is very comforting. I don't know why he isn't better known, but O'Nolan was a true great of an Irish literary scene already packed with greats. Highly recommended!
Besides writing novels under the pseudonym Flann O'Brien, Brian O'Nolan also wrote a regular column for the Irish Times under the name Myles na gCopaleen ("Myles of the Little Horses"). This book collects some of the best ones. They tend to be sarcastic observations on Dublin life in the 1940s-50s, which might seem pretty arcane, but just as you don't have to live in Chicago to appreciate Dave Barry, you don't have to be a Dubliner to enjoy Myles. The persona he creates for himself would rank as one of the great characters of fiction, if O'Nolan had ever put him in a novel.
Still picking through this. It's not bad, but like "Further Cuttings", it suffers from the fact the pieces are ordered by topic/ style instead of chronologically. This means that everyone of his "Keats" pieces, which are giant set ups for groaner puns it laid end-to-end so no matter how good the individual pieces are, you're sick of them long before you get to the end of the chapter.
I'm on my second copy of this book - I read and re-read the first copy until it fell apart. O'Brien's daily newspaper column in the Irish Times was an outlet for an under-appreciated intellectual talent. There's everything here from anarchic humour to social satire and dry wit, always flavoured with a hearty contempt for pretension in all its forms. Humorous prose at its finest.
Well obviously five stars for the content but it's surely a scandal that all we have is this random context-free selection and that there isn't a proper collected and annotated edition of Cruiskeen Lawn. Surely Myles could expect better treatment after all these years.
Flann O'Brien's At Swim-Two-Birds and The Third Policeman are two of my most fondest memories of book reading, but regrettably this one didn't quite reach those heights. I wonder if part of the reason for this is that this is a collection of short newspaper columns Flann wrote for The Irish Times, presumably written from the mind that a reader will be reading no more than one column per day, thus making my conduct of reading these columns back-to-back palpably ill-suited. Making this notion more strongly felt was the fact that this book groups the newspaper columns by topic, so when read in order the book provides somewhat of a repetitive reading experience, with the joke and punchline from one page being similar to that of the next. Perhaps I could have just opened up the book at random and read any which piece that catches my eye, but reading the contents of a book in any order besides that of front cover to back cover seems to be a weakness of mine.
Having said all that, there was still plenty of chuckling, thinking, and playful open-mindedness in there, so I'd still happily recommend this to the ardent Flann O'Brien enthusiasts.
Brian O'Nolan wrote under the nom de plume Myles na gCopaleen (his other pen name was Flann O'Brien) for the Irish Times, and other news publications, in the mid Twentieth century. His columns consisted largely of comedic pieces and satirical jabs at various sections of Irish society, from wealthy Dublin cultural dilettantes to "the plain people of Ireland", essentially he got paid, to use the vernacular of the isles, to take the piss out of people. In style and substance his work for the Irish Time could be comparable to Mark Twain's stint with San Franciscan journals.
My favorite pieces he did was a series of columns advertising his services as a book man-handler for wealthy patrons who wanted show libraries that looked like they were well read without actually going to the bother of actually reading anything. To give you a taste of what to expect in this book.
Rubbish, really. But I say that in the nicest possible way, as it鈥檚 benign, occasionally entertaining rubbish. A compilation of columns written for The Irish Times, it鈥檚 a book best picked up and read a little from time to time. If the words 鈥淲hat in God鈥檚 name is he on about?鈥� don鈥檛 come frequently to mind, I should be surprised. Pure Flann O鈥橞rien, and none the worse for that. Personally, I preferred The Third Policeman.
It took me far too long to read The Best of Myles but it was worth it. I enjoyed quite a few genuine audible cackles and have littered my copy with a lot of post-its. It inspired me to start a blog called The "As and When, Weakly", where I will post all my own comedy stylings.
Flann O'Brien is one of the smartest writers I've ever read. I could not understand most of the jokes and allusions he was making, but those that I got, I absolutely loved.
Que el enigm谩tico Desmond de la serie Perdidos apareciese leyendo El tercer polic铆a de Flann O鈥橞rien en el cap铆tulo con el que comenz贸 la segunda temporada (Man of science, Man of Faith), sirvi贸 para que el libro vendiera tanto en tres semanas como en los seis a帽os anteriores de edici贸n.
Gracias a Craig Wright, guionista, y a los creadores Damon Lindelof y Carlton Cuse; se extendi贸 la idea de que hab铆a pistas dentro del libro que ayudar铆an a comprender por d贸nde iban los tiros y claro, con este reclamo, c贸mo no iba a triunfar. Independientemente de lo anecd贸tico de la situaci贸n, s铆 que sirvi贸 para que mucha gente empezara a conocer su obra, entre los cuales me incluyo, que en ese mismo a帽o le铆 la novela en cuesti贸n.
La editorial N贸rdica acometi贸 la publicaci贸n de las obras de este genial escritor irland茅s y, a d铆a de hoy, con La gente corriente de Irlanda, ha finalizado la edici贸n de casi toda su obra.
Este 煤ltimo libro es una recopilaci贸n de los textos que aparecieron en las p谩ginas del The Irish Times, concretamente en la columna Cruiskeen Lawn que hizo con el seud贸nimo Myles na gCopaleen (personaje de la novela de 1828 The Collegions, de Gerald Griffin). Y como bien comenta en el fant谩stico pr贸logo su traductor Antonio Rivero, 鈥渆n las m谩s de 3000 columnas p煤blicas siempre brillan la erudici贸n, la parodia y ese rasgo sin el que un escritor est谩 perdido; un fino o铆do acompa帽ado de la capacidad de reproducir el lenguaje del com煤n en letras de molde鈥�. Hay que indicar que la mayor铆a de estos textos han sido traducidos directamente del ga茅lico.
De entre todas las columnas que realiz贸, se ha hecho una selecci贸n dividida por temas o ep铆grafes, con m谩s o menos inspiraci贸n, pero siempre interesantes.
Especialmente divertidos son los art铆culos que se re煤nen con el t铆tulo La AIEAAM, etc. (Asociaci贸n Irlandesa de Escritores Actores Artistas y M煤sicos) donde se inventa conceptos tales como los 鈥渕anipuladores profesionales鈥� de libros; llegando a establecer un tipo de alto nivel al que llama 鈥淢anipulador superior o Traitement Superbe鈥�, que 鈥渆s el m谩s costoso de todos, por supuesto, pero tirado de precio si se tiene en cuenta la cantidad de prestigio que se gana a ojos de los amigos rid铆culos鈥�. Tambi茅n habla de lo que 茅l llama 鈥渧entr铆locuos acompa帽antes profesionales鈥� para, a continuaci贸n definirlo como: 鈥淓l acompa帽ante cualificado responde a sus propias preguntas viriles con una voz mucho m谩s agradable que el graznido nada femenino de usted y da respuestas que por su brillantez y chispa asombran a quienes tienen detr谩s鈥�
Hay otras recopilaciones menos imaginativas como la de El tribunal del arbitraje de Cruiskeen, donde se enreda en una jerga de abogados que puede resultar un poco pesada; pero todo se olvida cuando llega a ese inconmensurable Catecismo del 肠濒颈肠丑茅, en el que recopila 鈥渆n 356 partes trisemanales un compendio 煤nico de cuanto hay de nauseabundo en la escritura contempor谩nea.鈥� Define el t茅rmino de la siguiente forma: 鈥淯n 肠濒颈肠丑茅 es una frase que ha llegado a fosilizarse, y las palabras que lo componen han sido privadas de su luz y su significado intr铆nsecos a trav茅s de su uso incesante鈥�; y se van sucediendo uno tras otro, a cu谩l m谩s imaginativo y divertido. (鈥溌緾贸mo es la perra que le cedo cuando usted habla sin bajarse del burro? Gorda.鈥� 鈥溌緾on qu茅 actividad d铆gito-mamatoria confundi贸 mi actitud? Crey贸 que me chupaba el dedo鈥�). Desde luego es de tal actualidad que la mayor铆a de ellos se podr铆an aplicar ahora mismo.
Tampoco se salvaron de sus columnas El irland茅s y temas relacionados donde se mofa con fina iron铆a de los irlandeses y su obsesi贸n con el ga茅lico: 鈥淓n Donegal hay hablantes nativos que saben tantas millones de palabras que siempre es una cuesti贸n de orgullo para ellos no emplear dos veces en la vida la misma palabra. Su vida (por no hablar de su lengua) se hace muy compleja cuando alcanza el siglo, pero es lo que hay鈥�.
Por si fuera poco, al final del libro vienen reproducidas algunas de las columnas originalmente publicadas en el Irish Times para que nos hagamos una idea de c贸mo eran y que se puedan comparar con su lengua original (la mayor铆a son en ga茅lico). 脥mprobo el esfuerzo realizado por N贸rdica y su traductor para poder transmitir algo del humor que destilaba Flann O鈥橞rien y su saber hacer. Un escritor excelente, una muy buena forma de descubrirlo para, a partir de ah铆, sumergirse en sus originales novelas, desde la ya mencionada El tercer polic铆a a Cr贸nica de Dalkey pasando, 驴por qu茅 no?, por la tronchante La Boca Pobre.
Unfortunately I doubt many alive today have a sufficiently detailed knowledge of all the subjects addressed to be be capable of getting all the jokes. Otherwise excellent. Especially when he came back to life to contest his insufficiently vexatious will.
Mind-blowing. It consists of a few hundred extracts from a daily column in the Irish Times, mainly from the 1940's I would guess, supposedly written by a fictitious character (Myles na gCopaleen)who is an omniscient polymath with authoritative views on every possible subject (it was actually written by Brian O'Nolan, who was better known as his pseudonym Flan O'Brien). The language is dazzling, as are the amazingly inventive subjects. Some of the contemporary references mean absolutely nothing to me, and that takes the edge off some of the extracts, but overall it is brilliant. Myles made me realise that fiction is just that- fiction, so as the author make up everything, including your name, your personality, your expertise, your publishing record, the reviews of your books- the lot! You read about authors who spend three months researching the spark-plugs on a jumbo jet so they can write a realistic paragraph about them in Chapter 98 of a thriller- make-it up! If Myles were writing today he'd announce that he was suing Boeing for patent infringements relating to sintered ceramics with tungsten nano-inserts, and that he'd had to develop a special asymmetric magnetic oscillator to 'settle' the nano-particles in the atomic lattice in order to eliminate harmonic stress transients, or even transient stress harmonics, and it would all be made up but it would still all sound convincing because it was written by someone with such an amazing gift for words.
So within my version of The Best of Myles, an aptly named Kevin O'Nolan was kind enough to write a pithy yet quite lovely preface.
As you gander through my abbreviated cull of his abridged introductory remarks, you should quickly notice that this aptly named Kevin easily understands, but does not thoroughly underestimate, one Brian O'Nolan n茅e Flann O'Brien n茅e Myles na Gopaleen.
See for yourself:
In the present selection articles are separated by asterisks. Where the topic was continued, the continuation follows the asterisks. Accordingly the asterisks denote the conclusion of an article or a lapse of time before resuming. Apart from single or continued articles the selection includes shorter extracts, also isolated by asterisks.
You see?
Warning: Long Sentence
It's not often that I celebrate the genius of an author by instead opining on an artistic quote supplied via the pithy preface of that author's celebrated tome by a somewhat namesake contributor (see the n茅es) so please do go on ahead and mark this blessed event in your calendar whilst you attempt to update your diary because obviously it's a red-letter day of great importance.
The first thing that comes to mind when reading something like this, or the collected Don Marquis, is that I wish there were columnists writing like this today. The closest we've come in my lifetime is probably Dave Barry, and that's not really a great comparison, as Barry's style of humor is very different.
This might have gotten five stars, but I don't like the way they compiled these columns, which they did by theme. Some of the themes feel more forced than others, and they still have 100 pages of "miscellaneous" at the end. I love many of his themes, like the Brother, and Keats & Chapman, but by the time you get to the end of their thematic section they are gone never to crop up again, and often they are better in small doses, which would be better suited to splitting them up throughout as I understand O'Brien did.*
Still great stuff, but I would love it if they organized it in a more organic fashion, closer to how they originally appeared in print.
*I'm referring to him as O'Brien because that appears to be the agreed upon pseudonym under which to sort all of the various pseudonyms used.
I needed an antidote to 'Cousin Bette'. This seemed like a good 'bet'. Don't care for his column 'The Brother' or even 'The Plain People of Ireland,' but his columns 'The Research Bureau' with its many ingenious inventions, 'The Cathechism of Cliches', 'Keats and Chapman' are laugh-out-loud funny. His 'Binchy, Bergin, and Best' is included for Celticists like me who never knew the entire poem, or even who wrote it. O'Brien was also a well-informed locomotive enthusiast unless his hilarious columns are a cover-up for colossal ignorance. The man knew everything and could write on everything. Better read in small bites, one column per day, the better to digest his puns, general wordplay, irony, and unmatched cleverness, but if you read just one column per day of this 400 page volume, you would die first--so maybe three to four columns, and then you can die laughing. One example of what happens when a clever man like Myles takes a phrase literally: 'I found myself going homewards the other evening, not in a cab but in that odd mobile apartment with the dun-coloured wall-paper, a brown study. Long long thoughts occupied my mind'. A good slow read.