Oh those Facebook mothers. The way they talked, as if they had invented motherhood, as if they had invented the womb, telling themselves they were different from their own mothers because they ate quinoa and had cornrows in their hair and ran a Pinterest board on craft ideas for the recalcitrant under-fives.
Her eyes are like lizard tongues, darting toward me when she thinks I’m not looking.
There was a strange musty smell in Anna’s parents’ house: it reminded me of Werther’s Butterscotch or the jasmine-scented handkerchiefs old people put in their drawers.
Too soon. He was seventy-four. He’d had his three score and ten. David Frost had probably spent more time on the toilet than my son had been alive.
I should have listened to my dad. He liked a drink, but hated drinkers. It’s all about them, son, he had told me, boring old bastards, always droning on. All them clever thoughts, son, but the boy could hardly stand. Because it gets you like that, the booze. It makes you think you’re unwrapping the world. But you’re not. The world is unwrapping you.
This book gutted me, but in the best way possible. Cleverly written with wit and observantly insightful detail that tapped all the senses, I was engaged and invested throughout this tragic yet uplifting and transformative journey. I was staggered by the knowledge that this stunningly crafted work was Mr. Allnutt’s debut. I was quite taken by his well-honed and smooth writing style, which pulled me right into the vortex of a loving and desperate father’s cranium. I felt and absorbed his jubilance as well as his disequilibrium and misery. The premise was relevant and moving while the prose was heart squeezing and emotive. I fell in love with the adorable little Jack.
- Paperback: 368 pages
- Publisher: Park Row; First Time Trade ed. edition (5 February 2019)
- Language: English
- ISBN-10: 0778307700
- ISBN-13: 978-0778307709
- Product Dimensions: 15.4 x 2.6 x 22.7 cm
- Boxed-product Weight: 363 g
- Customer Reviews: 93 customer ratings