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A review by edders
Ulrich Haarburste's Novel of Roy Orbison in Clingfilm by Ulrich Haarbürste
4.0
I think that when it is time to discuss those books concerning the wrapping of Roy Orbison in Clingfilm it is Ulrich Haarburste's fine literary efforts that first spring to my mind.
It is perhaps best to start with the fundamental negatives I see in the book that I have read: clingfilm is the be-all-end-all and nothing else can take centre stage at any one time. This is the defining characteristic of the short stories and the novel contained in the book and it shapes everything that is surreal and wonderful but simultaneously gives it boundaries that it cannot escape from.
Now that unpleasantries have been cast by the way-side I can tout the glory of that scintillating, gleaming figure iridescent as he walks with shoelaces tied: it is Roy Orbison, and he is completely wrapped in clingfilm. No doubt anyone else familiar with Ulrich's words will feel their chest swell in remembered pride and satisfaction at this note of accomplishment.
The novel at the end seems to me influenced in equal measures by Dickens - a bizarre juiced up pastiche of a serial novel, hailing as it does from weekly online releases of chapters which have been lovingly printed (alas, not on clingfilm) - and maybe The Hobbit in some way that I struggle to identify (perhaps the interesting way that peripheral characters interject, or the marvellous return journey to Dusseldorf). In any event it is a unique and interesting book.
It is perhaps best to start with the fundamental negatives I see in the book that I have read: clingfilm is the be-all-end-all and nothing else can take centre stage at any one time. This is the defining characteristic of the short stories and the novel contained in the book and it shapes everything that is surreal and wonderful but simultaneously gives it boundaries that it cannot escape from.
Now that unpleasantries have been cast by the way-side I can tout the glory of that scintillating, gleaming figure iridescent as he walks with shoelaces tied: it is Roy Orbison, and he is completely wrapped in clingfilm. No doubt anyone else familiar with Ulrich's words will feel their chest swell in remembered pride and satisfaction at this note of accomplishment.
The novel at the end seems to me influenced in equal measures by Dickens - a bizarre juiced up pastiche of a serial novel, hailing as it does from weekly online releases of chapters which have been lovingly printed (alas, not on clingfilm) - and maybe The Hobbit in some way that I struggle to identify (perhaps the interesting way that peripheral characters interject, or the marvellous return journey to Dusseldorf). In any event it is a unique and interesting book.