The Undivided Self

September 15, 2010

Spanning several earlier books (and including some recent uncollected stories), this collection provides the perfect introduction to the gamut of Self's darkly comic, verbally dexterous shorter prose. The works range from the Vonnegut-like "Caring, Sharing," set in a future where childlike "grownups" have robotic doppelgangers that cater to their physical comfort while taking on all of the deeper emotional aspects of their lives, to the satiric "Understanding the Ur-Bororo," about an anthropologist's studies of a remote Brazilian tribe whose distinguishing trait is their dullness (indeed, the tribe's name translates as "The People Who You Wouldn't Want To Be Cornered by at a Party"). "Tough, Tough Toys for Tough, Tough Boys" showcases Self's more serious side, as a middle-aged psychiatrist reflects on his past during a car trip to the Orkney Islands. VERDICT Turning outrageously apt metaphors as few others can, Self could build a career on wit alone. As this outstanding collection amply shows, however, he delivers much more. Especially recommended for readers new to Self's work and libraries that don't own the collections from which these stories are taken.--Lawrence Rungren, Merrimack Valley Lib. Consortium, North Andover, MA

Copyright 2010 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

October 1, 2010
Drawing on selections from Selfs five prior short story collections, this volume presents the writers 16 most well known stories as well as a previously unpublished one. Readers should be prepared for the onslaught as the author unleashes the full force of his signature style, a manic, precisely worded, and sometimes shocking assault on all the things Self despises. Like fellow Brit Martin Amis, Self sees too clearly and then proceeds to revel in all that is horrible about modern life. Whether its the interminable monologues of the fusty anthropologist who spends years studying a tribe whose most discerning feature is that they are boring, in Understanding the Ur-Bororo, or the rise and precipitous fall of the drug-dealing brothers who operate in Londons West End in The Rock of Crack as Big as the Ritz and The Nonce Prize, Self never tires of serving up all that is most depressing about human nature, and he does so in language possessed of such ghastly clarity that there is no escape from his diabolical worldview. As Rick Moody warns in the introduction: Those who come in search of the traditional humanist epiphany are likely to get a kick in the ass for their trouble.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2010, American Library Association.)