Book Review: The Drought - Steven Scaffardi

First off, I should probably start off by admitting that, in this case, the title "book review" is a misnomer. No, I haven't sunk so low as to ignore the old adage "don't judge a book by its cover," but I did [somewhat reluctantly] manage to struggle through the first chapter of this novel.

Having been a member of goodreads for quite a while, I am always happy to receive new recommendations on what books to add to my ever-creaking shelves next. While I usually stick to reading other people's reviews, I was met with an interesting proposition, when stand-up comedian and author [and I use those terms loosely] Steven Scaffardi, offered me the chance to download and read his latest lad-lit offering "The Drought" for completely free.

Of course, being a stingy student, and a keen fan of the lad-lit genre [which is basically chick-lit but for guys, if you couldn't guess], I would've been a fool to say no, especially to someone who had been compared to previous authors I have read, such as Matt Dunn and Mike Gayle. Before downloading any free material, however, I decided to read the first chapter of the book that appears free-to-view on Scaffardi's blog.



Long story short, The Drought is about Dan Hilles, a fallen Casanova whose charm has gone MIA, resulting in a long period of sexual inactivity. Throughout the novel, he calls upon several friends to ensure that he gets his mojo back and the magic happening. Well, he does if you can get that far into the book, anyway.

Despite being familiar with the genre, and not exactly loathing the premise, I could not be won over by Scaffardi's first chapter at all. The writing style, whilst not entirely off-putting, isn't conducive to humour at all, and simply makes the reader feel as if they're wading through treacle to get to a punchline. The punchlines themselves, once you've found them, really aren't that special anyway, resulting in a mild 'heh', rather than the big, belly, Brian Blessed-esque laughs that can be generated from most other books in the genre. [But, of course, humour is subjective, so others may take to Steven Scaffardi's jokes like a duck to water.]

Dan Hilles is portrayed as a clumsy, yet well meaning person when it comes to love. In many ways, he could be The Big Bang Theory's Howard Wolowitz crossed with Mr Bean. Unfortunately, however, he has the humour of a funeral on a wet Wednesday. His mishaps don't, unfortunately, cause the reader to feel any sympathy for him, as he comes across as a bit of a sex-crazed douchebag [for lack of a better phrase].

At the end of the day, The Drought is exactly that: dry, boring, and seemingly never-ending. From the first, utterly mind-numbing sentence [which stirs up about as much intrigue as finding a twig in a heavily wooded area], the tale [or at least the first chapter] is a work that made me internally scream: "OH FOR GOD'S SAKE. IS THIS FINISHED YET!?"
A fellow reviewer remarked that the book made her cry - I can assure you that you won't be bawling tears of joy at this novel.

RATING: 2/10 - [First chapter only. I might read the rest of it when I have a death wish.]

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Book Review: Dial M For Merde- Stephen Clarke

Having been a keen reader of Stephen Clarke's "Merde" series so far, I felt obligated, yet excited to read the latest installment in the series. Clarke's fast paced, first-person tales of travel and tedium, centred around the character of Paul West entertained, enthralled, and humoured me; from his bureaucratic cock-ups in Paris, to his relationship break-downs in London, and the charms of America. But can the same be said for his new tale?

Unfortunately not, I say. While the book still has the occassional titter about it, it has nothing compared to the "Oh-ho-ho, laugh-till-the-brioche-explodes-from-your-belly" roars of hilarity from the previous novels. Whilst there were certain sexual elements in the other books, the first quarter of the book seems to be as sexxed up as a Labour Party dossier with a foreword by Jordan. And trust me, when an 18 year old boy with "raging hormones" says that a book has too much sex in it, it really DOES have too much sex. All of this intercourse stems from Paul's travels through France with his girlfriend, Gloria Monday, otherwise known as "M", as she scours the French coasts for signs of endangered species of fish, in her role as ecologist and scientist. This rather mundane plot element is made up for by the fact that Paul has to cater for his friend's wedding, as she attempts to marry into an aristocratic family who look down their noses more than the Jolly Green Giant at a playgroup.

But all is not as it seems. The tale goes from sex, sun, and ceremonies to murder and mystery in the blink of an eye. As M heads on an excursion of her own to Marseille to meet some other ecologists, an undercover female police officer in a low cut, backless dress [yes, that's right! More sex!] lets Paul know that M isn't a scientist at all. There is only one big fish she cares for- the President of France. And she wants to see his head on a silver platter.

From then on in, Paul heads off on a wild goose chase, trying to balance being a "trateur" [caterer] for his friend, and a "traitre" [traitor] to his assassin of a girlfriend, whilst also cramming in "ambassador for the British nation" into the mix.

But will M get caught? Will Elodie [Paul's engaged friend] get married in time to reap a financial tradition held by the pompous family? Will England assist France like the allies that they have come to be!?



...In all honesty, you may not ever find out. The book seems pretty dry and dull compared to the previous novels, and you'd be forgiven for losing interest, given the fact that the first half is probably as interesting as Stephen Hawking's talking computer conveying the taste of a Ryvita biscuit.

I'd give the book 5/10, due to the small smatterings of laughter and the callbacks to the previous tales. Though I wouldn't really recommend it. My take on it in two words? Sacre bleurgh.

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