Excerpt from Oothangbart: ‘What was it to you, Mr. Poseidon?’ someone shouted.
Donal paused. ‘In Bristol nobody would ask me questions for the sake of making themselves feel better about this matter or that. A fellow could have all sorts of odd ideas and feelings and nobody thought anything of it. A fellow could be himself and yet not feel different or lonely. In fact, all fellows in Bristol regarded themselves as the equal of all other fellows. Oh, and I should tell you that there is no escalator in the High Street.’
‘Are their kites big?’ Everard shouted.
Donal smiled. ‘Their kites are just like ours. Some big and strong, and some small and elegant.’
‘What about their flags?’ The Mayor asked.
Donal hesitated. ‘In Bristol there are no flags because to show pride openly would be vulgar. They might have had flags a long time ago, but they cut them all up and made kites out of them,’ he answered.
‘Quite impossible to compare this book to anything else.’
‘And this book gets better and better, if that were possible.’
‘I had dozing, waking and sleeping dreams about this book last night.’
‘This is the most poignant, yearning, yielding, unrequited work of fiction I have ever read….’
‘Rest assured, this is quietly transcendent literature and I genuinely… believe this is a major new-archetypal… work that needs urgent attention by those not yet in the know about it.’
‘I have been enraptured in the last week or two by this book.’
Des Lewis, reviewer. https://dflewisreviews.wordpress.com/2017/01/06/oothangbart-rebecca-lloyd/