By J. P. Donleavy
A Fairy story of recent York is a humorous, lusty, and unhappy novel of comedian genius.
Returning from examine in another country, Cornelius Christian enters customs along with his baggage and his useless spouse. His first stumble upon in ny is with a funeral director, with whom he reluctantly takes employment to pay for the burial bills. during his tasks he meets the gorgeous Fanny Sourpuss over her millionaire husband's useless physique. although, his over-enthusiastic dealing with of his first corpse lands him in court docket.
Cornelius Christian wanders during the nice unhappy cathedral that's manhattan, studying the human situation in all its comedian pathos and lonely absurdity. even if lingering within the Automat ingesting from part empty espresso cups and stealing baked beans from the plates of shoppers who go searching for ketchup, or discovering love on a highway nook in simple terms to finish up battling his method out of a hooker's fists, Cornelius Christian, heroic anti-hero, sings of life's goodness within the wake of catastrophe. A Fairytale of recent York is the radical whose identify encouraged the Pogues' tune, pointed out as 'the top Christmas track ever'
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Additional resources for A Fairy Tale of New York
She finished her ice cream and sat clasping her hands tight between her legs; she was rubbing her thighs together and looking for someone to beat her nicely drawn demurely in against her body. and you weren't there It . The . farther south you went the worse got. it Sheet-Rock Fred had sometimes spoken of living true that is in Mexico City for half a year or so; if you went there and waited for a very long time and were lucky you might conceivably see him (if he didn't go to India instead to get cremated beside the Ganges), but then what about Megan?
These outings gradually became — somewhat infrequent as Satoko developed a cryptic coloration and withdrew more and more from everybody except Ken. She lived on Oreo cookies and steadily lost weight. If 1 came to see her (she could not be expected to respond to her buzzer but the manageress knew and let me in if each time 1 promised never ever to do 18 it me again), by if I now went The Ghost of Magnetism up the stinking and knocked, stairs I might hear Satoko stirring in bed, Whenever Ken went weeping.
37 it thundered. Little and red ants crawled Again you chewed the THIRTEEN STORIES AND THIRTEEN EPITAPHS (When you tender tender needles of evergreens. ) Dandelions and blueflax in the meadow; in a sandier spot you came across the reddish- danced orange treasures of Indian paintbrush. You ran uphill through the tunnels of white aspen and reached another hot yellow meadow browsing with bees, and more aspen forest whose creamy trunks were as smooth which was littered with the grey trunks of windblown trees, some hollow, some swarming with ants, and after much labor among the snapping twigs you came to the crest of the hill and there was a grassy dome where mulleins grew as high as your head and inside each one was a white moth and the blades of mountains rose purple-grey, high above the rolling hills, whose grass was soft like yellow corn-dust, and the smell of dust was good and clean, and there was snow on Humphreys Peak; and you ran laughing down and down again, past a dead black witching-tree with branches like ribs, like the branches in Gualala, like the branches everywhere, and you and then as poles, continued east, with blue shrubs, and sunlight a steep slope of evergreen forest, it flat ridges in the distance speckled with greyish- was night and then morning and the patches of on the chaparral made it and there were clouds over the gold; mountains with cloud-stuff eternally bursting from them in a frozen explosion of purity, and you saw a purple scorpionweed and then trees and dust and mountains.
A Fairy Tale of New York by J. P. Donleavy