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A review by kellyholmes
Jack Tumor by Anthony McGowan
4.0
Summary: Hector’s hearing voices—well, one voice—and that’s never good. And this particular voice happens to be a talking brain tumor. Also not good.
Review: I know, this book sounds weird. I’m here to report that yes, this book is weird. But it’s also brilliant.
Sometimes, the funny bits turned into tangents that seemed to exist for funny’s sake and not the story’s sake. But they were awfully funny, after all, and it was only a couple times that the tangents interrupted the flow of the story.
Check it out for yourself:
“Hector?”
A man looking a lot like a doctor was staring at me. …
I nodded.
“I’m Dr. Jones.”
I nodded again. He hadn’t said anything yet that I felt like disagreeing with.
“As you know, this is a teaching hospital. Would you mind if some ah, observers sat in?”
Before I had the chance to mind, a group of gormless-looking students began filing into the room. Not all gormless-looking. There was one exceptionally pretty girl, with the kind of straight black hair I like.
It meant I was going to get an anal probe for sure.
I felt the electric tingle of a blush as the whole scene played out before me: the pink rubberized truncheon they were going to use, the sparking electrodes at the end of the probe, the giggle from the students at the farting noise produced as the probe was extracted, my stuttering efforts to say it wasn’t me but the probe that made the noise.
“So, you’ve been having some problems?” said Doc Jones.
Problems! Where did I start?
Review: I know, this book sounds weird. I’m here to report that yes, this book is weird. But it’s also brilliant.
Sometimes, the funny bits turned into tangents that seemed to exist for funny’s sake and not the story’s sake. But they were awfully funny, after all, and it was only a couple times that the tangents interrupted the flow of the story.
Check it out for yourself:
“Hector?”
A man looking a lot like a doctor was staring at me. …
I nodded.
“I’m Dr. Jones.”
I nodded again. He hadn’t said anything yet that I felt like disagreeing with.
“As you know, this is a teaching hospital. Would you mind if some ah, observers sat in?”
Before I had the chance to mind, a group of gormless-looking students began filing into the room. Not all gormless-looking. There was one exceptionally pretty girl, with the kind of straight black hair I like.
It meant I was going to get an anal probe for sure.
I felt the electric tingle of a blush as the whole scene played out before me: the pink rubberized truncheon they were going to use, the sparking electrodes at the end of the probe, the giggle from the students at the farting noise produced as the probe was extracted, my stuttering efforts to say it wasn’t me but the probe that made the noise.
“So, you’ve been having some problems?” said Doc Jones.
Problems! Where did I start?