Friday, 12 December 2008


I've just found my new favourite Amazon reviewer, P. Bird. 

P.Bird thinks practically everything is overrated. In fact, I reckon you can read in these short pieces of prose an entire life of almost constant disappointment, in which our hero soldiers on despite the lack of satisfaction involved in any of it. 

Halfway down the page I almost got worried that any minute there was going to be some life-changing burst of enthusiasm for a book, but no: consistently miserable. 

On page 2, though (further into the past) there's a plot twist, as P.Bird reveals an unsuspected soft-spot for Anne Tyler whilst continuing to militate against men thinking they can write as women, or the other way around. There's some battle of the sexes thing going on in the turbulent inner life of P. Bird that I can't quite read, but which I find compelling. There was a time when P.Bird was happy! Just not now. 

Brilliant. Well, better than reading that stupid overrated old Junot Diaz, anyway!



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