A long (700-page), shaggy-dog story of a book that stretches from Australia to France to Thailand and back to Australia, this covers three generations of the Dean family, focusing on Terry (a vicious murderer), Martin (Terry’s genius-madman brother) and Jasper (Martin’s equally eccentric and rebellious son).
As with the work of Kurt Vonnegut, this is very funny and full of philosophical questioning and insight about life, love and religion – but in such a dry, self-deprecating manner that it never feels ponderous or remotely preachy. It’s also quite savage in its social satire. It’s a novel that praises individuality and rages against conformity.
There’s huge intelligence and wisdom at work that challenges lazy thinking. I wanted to copy out several passages because what they communicated was so profound. I also want to read it again.
