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Kurzbeschreibung
The other Rankin's latest comic fantasy in paperback, set in the music biz, starring a would-be band manager and a lead singer who may be an angel (or the Devil). }Waiting for Godalming{ is the new hardback, out this month in Doubleday.
Synopsis
This is the anarchic comedy of one man who realizes his secret ambition to get into the music industry - managing a band called Gandhi's Hairdryer, but he's soon to find out something very odd about the band - something other-worldly.
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8 von 8 Kunden fanden die folgende Rezension hilfreich
Format:Taschenbuch
Uiuiui, Rankin. Hier geht's wieder mal richtig rund...
Leser von Robert Rankins Romanen sind ja einiges gewöhnt: Handlungsstränge, die sich keinen Deut um Plausibilität scheren; Figuren, die mit den bittersten Zoten um sich werfen; und einen Autor, der keine - aber auch gar keine - gemachte Bemerkung vergisst, sondern am Ende alle Handlungsstränge zusammenführt. Wie durchgeknallt sie auch sein mögen. Und das sind sie. Immer. Auch hier!
John Omally und Jim Pooley, Rankins Lieblings"helden", haben ein neues Steckenpferd gefunden: Sie wollen eine Band managen. "Ghandi`s Hairdryer" ist die angesagteste Gruppe der Stadt und steht kurz davor, berühmt zu werden. Die Stimme ihrer Leadsängerin kann Menschen heilen.
Alles scheint diesmal gut zu gehen im lieblichen Brentford, wenn da nicht diese seltsamen Jungs in den schwarzen T-Shirts wären, die irgendwie die Geschichte zu verändern scheinen. Oder ist es normal, dass Elvis und John Lennon noch leben, aber die Queen tot ist?
"Sex, drugs and sausage rolls" ist gewohnter Wahnsinn aus dem Hause Rankin. Für seine Fans absolut unverzichtbar, für Neueinsteiger vielleicht der Einstieg in ein großes Abenteuer.
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11 Rezensionen
47 von 50 Kunden fanden die folgende Rezension hilfreich
A pint of large at the Flying Swan
1. November 2004
Format:Taschenbuch
This was the first Rankin novel I tried, and I'm now chewing my way through the rest of them. The humour is about as zany as it gets, and there are some real laugh-out-loud moments. The premise of many of his novels is the same, and very british: Jim Pooley and John Omally live in Brentford and lack gainful employment. Their picaresque adventures could be interpreted as products of their overactive imaginations. In various novels they come face to face with the antipope, aliens from Ceres, time travel, and a host of other delightful oddities, always helped by their friend the Professor. Don't expect anything deep, but expect a riot of imaginative humour. Maybe I should just read you the first few sentences of this novel.
`She does what?' John Omally looked up from his pint and down at Small Dave.
`Reads your knob,' said the wee man. `It's a bit like Palmistry, where they read the lines on your hand. Except this is called Penistry and they can tell your fortune by looking at your knob.'
It was spring and it was Tuesday. It was lunchtime. They were in the Flying Swan.
`I don't believe it,' said John. `Someone's been winding you up, Dave.'
`They have not. I overheard two policemen talking about it while I was locked up in a suitcase.'
`Excuse me, Dave,' said Soap Distant, newly returned from a journey to the centre of the Earth. `But why were you locked in a suitcase?'
`There was some unpleasantness. I don't wish to discuss it.'
`She does what?' John Omally looked up from his pint and down at Small Dave.
`Reads your knob,' said the wee man. `It's a bit like Palmistry, where they read the lines on your hand. Except this is called Penistry and they can tell your fortune by looking at your knob.'
It was spring and it was Tuesday. It was lunchtime. They were in the Flying Swan.
`I don't believe it,' said John. `Someone's been winding you up, Dave.'
`They have not. I overheard two policemen talking about it while I was locked up in a suitcase.'
`Excuse me, Dave,' said Soap Distant, newly returned from a journey to the centre of the Earth. `But why were you locked in a suitcase?'
`There was some unpleasantness. I don't wish to discuss it.'
12 von 13 Kunden fanden die folgende Rezension hilfreich
There's no time like the present
1. Juni 2005
Format:Taschenbuch|Von Amazon bestätigter Kauf
And a lot of time travelers put in a lot of - well, time to make it this way, so don't go messing it up.
Rankin gives us a seriously skewed view of a world a lot like ours. All of commerce, all of industry, and a fair bit of the government have been taken over by one megacorp, but the placid little town of Brentford putters along the way is has for the last few hundred years. And a good thing, too. For one thing, there's that new band with the feel-good music, the kind that really leaves you feeling good. There's Jim Pooley whose name goes down in history as the biggest cockup ever, and getting killed early on doesn't seem to get in his way. There's a stove-top genetic experiment in horse breeding, with success of peculiar sorts. There's the fortune teller who doesn't read your palm but your - well, women don't seem to have very much ahead of them. And there's the end of the world, not that anyone seems to care very much. It all comes together in a readable, entertaining story that all ends just about where it began, only not quite.
This seems to be one interlude midway through a series of books centered on Brentford, but a newcomer will pick up the who's who and what's what (even the when's when) quickly enough. It lacks Terry Pratchett's level of fantasy and huge personalities, and lacks Tom Holt's sense of frenzy. Still it's a good read, and I'll be back to Brentford again.
Rankin is just starting to catch on in the US, but deserves a lot more attention. He puts together an amusing story. If nothing else, it should hold you until Pratchett or Holt come out with their next.
//wiredweird
Rankin gives us a seriously skewed view of a world a lot like ours. All of commerce, all of industry, and a fair bit of the government have been taken over by one megacorp, but the placid little town of Brentford putters along the way is has for the last few hundred years. And a good thing, too. For one thing, there's that new band with the feel-good music, the kind that really leaves you feeling good. There's Jim Pooley whose name goes down in history as the biggest cockup ever, and getting killed early on doesn't seem to get in his way. There's a stove-top genetic experiment in horse breeding, with success of peculiar sorts. There's the fortune teller who doesn't read your palm but your - well, women don't seem to have very much ahead of them. And there's the end of the world, not that anyone seems to care very much. It all comes together in a readable, entertaining story that all ends just about where it began, only not quite.
This seems to be one interlude midway through a series of books centered on Brentford, but a newcomer will pick up the who's who and what's what (even the when's when) quickly enough. It lacks Terry Pratchett's level of fantasy and huge personalities, and lacks Tom Holt's sense of frenzy. Still it's a good read, and I'll be back to Brentford again.
Rankin is just starting to catch on in the US, but deserves a lot more attention. He puts together an amusing story. If nothing else, it should hold you until Pratchett or Holt come out with their next.
//wiredweird
9 von 11 Kunden fanden die folgende Rezension hilfreich
The title says it all!
23. Mai 2002
Format:Gebundene Ausgabe
Very little sex though real or simulated but keep on reading and... you will laugh really hard twice on each page and chuckle to yourself in between. That said this book is best not to be read in public or in transit, for obvious reasons. This is my third Rankin read and I am continuing through his work but I think this will remain one of my favorite. It has: A Beatles reunion no less, although a Serbian SF/Horror writer had that on before Mr. Rankin. The reason why not to use the internet, demonic possession explained, the Terminator rip off (We all know James Cameron had to pay off Harlan Ellison for his rip off) Definition of Rock 'n Roll as it should be. And the extraordinary funny bit with stable boys, buckets and gene splicing!
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