Inside Mr. Enderby

Any novel that begins with a prolonged fart must be worth reading.
Enderby is a lyric poet whose muse works best on him when he is shut away sitting on the lavatory. His notes and inspirations are stored in his bathtub along with a pair of mice. He manages to be a professional poet by the grace of a small share portfolio inherited from his – I was going to say ‘indescribably’, but Burgess describes her all too clearly – disgusting step-mother. He lives in solitary squalor in a South Coast resort, presumably Brighton. Society for him is a geriatric pub frequented in daylight hours by the lonely and alcohol dependent elderly. His closest acquaintance is an edentulous chef from Oldham who can’t eat, so lives off vast quantities show more of beer.
Enderby, at least at the start of the book, doesn’t worry about his muse but is a martyr to his gut: as well as flatulence he is troubled with frequent, noisy eructation and frightful dyspepsia. He needs his sodium bicarbonate.
He is in a stable state of moderate creativity and self-neglect when he is awarded a Gold Medal (and a small cheque) by a rich book-seller who sees himself as a poet having a duty to support his fellows. Enderby borrows a suit from his chef pal – in exchange for a series of lascivious verses to the chef’s inamorata – and goes to London.......
Further description would spoil the read but suffice to say that he meets an improbably elegant fan of his work, with penny-coloured hair, who turns his life on its head. The book ends with Enderby as a client – that’s the modern term, anyway – of the surprisingly humane and effective mental health services of the 1950s. There was much that was bad in the psychiatry of the time, but also much good that has been lost. Of course, the fact that Enderby is as sane as you or I does make it easier for him.
Burgess does seem bothered by Catholicism and sex, apart from onanism, but he is very good on the literary muse and her loss, and he certainly has a good line on step-mothers. When the book first came out, readers must have felt very let down by the inconsequential ending – knowing that Enderby rides again makes a great difference. This is a worthwhile read that deserves its four stars. show less

My wife droveback from Chicago, excited to have her brother visiting us in our new home. Given the conversation was in Serbian, I was left to devouring most of this during the tour, laughing aloud often at the beginning, less so later in the book.

Enjoyable, funny, at times hilarious. Curious about the poets further adventures.

Pfffrrrummmp. Y un muy feliz año nuevo le deseamos también a usted, Mr. Enderby. Sin embargo, ese deseo se ha echado a perder....