—Flann O’Brien
A deep-sea diver, exploring the situation of a torpedoed man-of-war, was about to come to the surface when he noticed a young octopus in trouble. This not unhandy citizen—denizen of what but the deep?—had managed to get one of his “feet” caught in the wreck, and was writhing in great agony. The diver, a kind-hearted man—albeit one crossed in love—decided to go to the succour of his fellow sub-acquate. Seizing a piece of steel wreckage, he prized away one of the baulks imprisoning the octopus’s tentacle and thus released the unhappy sufferer.
The diver then, rejoicing in a good deed well done, turned to the ladder and gave his mate on the surface the signal to hoist. To his surprise, however, the young octopus began to accompany him upwards, paddling with great respect beside him. The look of gratitude on the large face of the octopus much moved the diver. Nevertheless, he made a deprecatory gesture and pushed the octopus away.
“Please go home,” he said.
“But sir,” the octopus cried, “you have been so kind, so considerate, so helpful—I crave from you only the boon of accompanying you to your home, there to dwell with you for aye . . . !” [Read more...]
This is a book written by Brian O’Nolan under the pseudonym of Flann O’ Brien. It is a small neat book about a man, bicycles, policemen and murder, not necessarily in that order. This will be one of my favourite books once I finish it, with only a few pages left. It is written by an individual whose branch has snapped into tiny wooden shards of unadulterated insanity. All those little stories that formulate in your head, for example, when one experiences agonising boredom or is on the precipice of sleep, can be found inhabiting the pages of this slim book, filled to the brim with the outpourings of a mind explosively fluid and mighty.
Recent Comments