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Customer reviews

3.7 out of 5 stars
12
3.7 out of 5 stars
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on 1 March 2017
Certainly different, but almost unreadable after a couple of chapters. He just keeps repeating the same linguistic/comedic trick of juxtaposing bizarre or incongruous concepts and ideas in consecutive sub-clauses, as if he's a teenager who's just read William Burroughs (it also has some flavour of Woody Allen's early comic short stories in 'Side Effects'). Mildly amusing at the start, but unvarying and eventually irritating. I just found it tiresome and stopped reading it.

I was disappointed because this appeared in a list in The Guardian of various comedians' "funniest books of all time" and I think it was Bridget Christie who chose this. Not for me, but if other reviews on here persuade me otherwise I might try it again to see if I missed something.
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on 2 October 2016
This is a book which is hard to quantify or explain.

While there is little plot and it is a spoof biog it is such a stream of consciousness and so wonderfully and densely written that when it clicks it becomes utterly hilarious. There were times I could not read it in public as I was laughing too much.

Its an amazing piece of work. So full of wonderful ideas, images, similes and metaphors that it is a book to read more than once. I feel I will get more from it on my second read than I did on my first.

Its not too long either so it does not outstay its welcome.
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on 9 October 2011
Aylett's biographical study of the notorious pulp author Jeff Lint is a teasingly exquisite piece. It takes your hand, leads you into the tire-kicking world of the much-maligned writer and shows you so many tantalising insights into his life. I loved it but it left me wanting so much more. What colour were the velvet swatches held by Lint and Herzog in the freezing lot? How high were Herzog's graph paper barricades? What shape were the gnostic knobs Lint manipulated without effect? Did Lint favour short of fuller length gowns when submitting his work? These questions remain unanswered, simply, I suspect, because the author was perplexed by a cloud of choking black dust. But these omissions are flawless fragments of a larger picture. Overall this is a fascinating examination of an underrated mind, written with panache and clandestine mundanity. A must-read for all Lint fans.
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on 18 May 2006
Steve Aylett is possessed of genius. It is, however, a narrow form of genius, focused on a form of verbal free-association that finds its optimum expression in satire. In some of his earlier books, his uninhibited plays on words was sometimes too diffuse and failed to gel into a coherent work. 'The Inflatable Volunteer', for example, is a pyrotechnic display of absurdist wit that avoids going anywhere in particular. As happened with many of the early surrealist writings this removes the work from the sphere of human concerns to an extent that it is lost to most people.

In 'Lint' however, Aylett has found a brilliant framework on which to hang his extrapolations. Indeed, possibly because of the discipline of having a baseground from which to work, the inventions are even more outlandish, often approaching a mode of expression beyond expression (to paraphrase Breton).

Like most of the literary surrealism of the 20s and 30s (Breton, Eluard, Peret in particular) Aylett abandons visually evocative prose altogether and writes at the dictate of an 'inner ear'. The results are extremely disorienting. The laughter doesn't begin immediately, the first response being bafflement accompanied by a kind of growing unease knocking on the door of a nihilistic horror. For me, the reaction occured at the beginning of the third chapter when a chance combination of phrases unleashed a tide of hysteria. I was forced to read the rest of the book in a room on my own, away from my wife who threatened to kill me if I didn't shut up. The laughter became painful - this is not feelgood comedy! This is a humour whose basis is buried deep in the cellular level. Black and strong!

Aylett throws out at least one idea per sentence that somebody else would have written into a full-length work. Sketches and embryos for what could have been developed into whole other plotlines. Almost as if Aylett had been granted access to view some vast forbidden library and, like Dylan writing 'A HArd Rain's A Goona Fall' on what he thought was the verge of doomsday, condensed as much of it into a small space as possible.

My only worry is that, having crammed so much into 'Lint' Aylett will be emptied of inspiration, like an old wine-sack. Where will he go after this?
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on 22 June 2008
One of the funniest book I have ever read. At times, it was just impossible to read it as I was laughing so much.
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on 12 May 2017
strange book but not funny and all kver the place. it was sold to me as "laugh out loud" but ez nothing of thd sort
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on 14 January 2017
As the one star reviewer helpfully points out, the content is absolute bollocks. But brilliant, surreal bollocks
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on 18 May 2007
A perfectly written fictional biograpy of a pulp fiction writer.

It encapsulates the insantiy of the Pulp genre and inbibes it with enough mad cap sci-fi, throw away comic book one liners, and charaterisation to make it a nigh on perfect read.

The book titles, and rivalries regualrly catch you unawares and leave you guffawing on the bus/train/tube.

Read it.
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on 5 November 2016
Cover was good, but the content is absolute bollocks. I gave up about half way through, all the time waiting for it to get better, it didn't.
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on 17 January 2017
I thought I was buying a Lint novel not a rambling book about the author. All very disappointing sadly. Arrgh
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