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leftistsquidward 's review for:
Nobber
by Oisín Fagan
Nobber is a wretched little book.
A crew of serving men, led by a petulant noble-boy whose morality reflects his ruthless and spoiled upbringing, navigate bubonic plague-era Ireland with the aim of haggling town representatives for the easy ownership of disease-riddled lands. That is... until they come across a town called Nobber.
This book is fascinating. Its characters are so lost in their own myopic insanities that the novel equally reads as a comedy as it does a psychological horror. Fagan has this incredible ability of diving in and out of specific points of view and streams of thought without ever disrupting the flow of his prose, a trap many tend to fall into. Speaking of his prose, it's all beautifully fucked. A solid balance is struck between how much poetry the book's surroundings, thoughts and actions deserve versus the wildly grim reality these features are bound to meet.
Should this sense of dread in the book be perfectly translated to the big screen, it could just as easily be scored by hauntingly off-pitch folk tunes as it could stoner metal ballads about witches hitting bongs midway through sacrificing a child. There is something almost cinematically perfect about what is captured within these relationships, insult tradeoffs and gruesome tragedies, but I can't put into words why I feel that way.
Nobber is an ice-cold bucket of water thrown in the face of the reader, with an excellently dark delivery and a final 50 pages that packs a punch like no other conclusion I've read. A modern classic.
A crew of serving men, led by a petulant noble-boy whose morality reflects his ruthless and spoiled upbringing, navigate bubonic plague-era Ireland with the aim of haggling town representatives for the easy ownership of disease-riddled lands. That is... until they come across a town called Nobber.
This book is fascinating. Its characters are so lost in their own myopic insanities that the novel equally reads as a comedy as it does a psychological horror. Fagan has this incredible ability of diving in and out of specific points of view and streams of thought without ever disrupting the flow of his prose, a trap many tend to fall into. Speaking of his prose, it's all beautifully fucked. A solid balance is struck between how much poetry the book's surroundings, thoughts and actions deserve versus the wildly grim reality these features are bound to meet.
Should this sense of dread in the book be perfectly translated to the big screen, it could just as easily be scored by hauntingly off-pitch folk tunes as it could stoner metal ballads about witches hitting bongs midway through sacrificing a child. There is something almost cinematically perfect about what is captured within these relationships, insult tradeoffs and gruesome tragedies, but I can't put into words why I feel that way.
Nobber is an ice-cold bucket of water thrown in the face of the reader, with an excellently dark delivery and a final 50 pages that packs a punch like no other conclusion I've read. A modern classic.