I’ve avoided reading Daniel Keyes‘ Flowers for Algernon. In 1966, this novel won awards for its innovative use of language. Narrator Charly undergoes radical brain surgery and evolves from ‘simpleton’ to genius. Along the way he discovers much about the nature of humanity.
So, why have I avoided it?
That’s why.
Will Self’s Book of Dave jumps between now-ish and 500 years hence. The most influential book in this half-drowned future is the diary of a bitter London cab driver named Dave. Half the story is in modern British street slang and cabbie code. The other half is written in futuristic misinterpretations of the same. Self thankfully provides a lexicon; ‘starbucks‘ means breakfast, ‘pizzaDlivree‘ means manna, and ‘Dävinanity‘ is the official religion of “Ing Land“.
Peter Carey’s True History of the Kelly Gang won the Man Booker prize for literature in 2001, and I still haven’t finished it. The story is a letter written from the Australian folk legend to his estranged daughter. Ned Kelly is portrayed as an illiterate, 19th century rogue, and written with as much grace.
The newest addition to this list is Pygmy by Chuck Palahniuk (whose name I also cannot pronounce). Agent Number 67 is a deadly spy sent among many ‘international students’ to infiltrate America. A clever satire in premise, but I could not finish the first chapter. The voice of Agent 67 is broken English, mixed with a heavy Asiatic edge and a clear dislike for all Western culture.
“Fellow operatives already pass immigrant control, exit through secure doors and to embrace own other host family people…All violate United States secure port of entry having success. Each now embedded among middle-income corrupt American family, all other homes, other schools and neighbors of same city. By not after next today, strategy web of operatives to be established.“
Surely these aren’t the only novels written in quasi-English…any suggestions for my to-avoid-reading list?
