Thomas Penman is enduring a very bad adolescence. Growing up in dark, dingy 1950s England, Thomas has problems. These include an unspeakable personal hygiene issue, an eccentric, ailing grandfather who speaks to him in Morse Code, an unrequited passion for the lovely Gwen Hackett, and an incriminatingly large stash of pornography. To cap it all, his warring parents are having him followed by a private investigator. It's hard to believe that things could get much worse for him, but, in fact, they are about to...
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Thomas Penman is enduring a very bad adolescence. Growing up in dark, dingy 1950s England, Thomas has problems. These include an unspeakable personal hygiene issue, an eccentric, ailing grandfather who speaks to him in Morse Code, an unrequited passion for the lovely Gwen Hackett, and an incriminatingly large stash of pornography. To cap it all, his warring parents are having him followed by a private investigator. It's hard to believe that things could get much worse for him, but, in fact, they are about to...
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Add this copy of The Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman to cart. $2.95, good condition, Sold by ThriftBooks-Dallas rated 4.0 out of 5 stars, ships from Dallas, TX, UNITED STATES, published 2004 by Bloomsbury Publishing PLC.
Add this copy of The Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman to cart. $35.60, good condition, Sold by Bonita rated 4.0 out of 5 stars, ships from Newport Coast, CA, UNITED STATES, published 2004 by Bloomsbury Publishing PLC.
A coming of age first novel that is not written in the first person is a novelty, even more so if the debut writer turns out to be the director of the cult hit 'Withnail and I'; yet, this book ultimately disappoints. The plot has a lot going for it: Thomas Penman, a thirteen-year-old given to defecating in little parcels and leaving them about for the unsuspecting, likes to construct elaborate explosive devices with which to torment crabs on the local beach with his best friend Maurice and tap out Morse code messages on the wires set-up between him and his beloved grandfather Walter. But, for all its quirkiness, the book is surprisingly mundane; Robinson?s genius at effortlessly creating wit and pathos on screen does not easily translate to literature - something is missing, and plodding through the often turgid and bland prose starts feeling like a chore. Perhaps Robinson should stick to writing (and making) movies, something he clearly does best.
