So I’ve have had the opportunity this week close out “The Collectors”, a fairly disappointing novel actually, and get back to this quirky little book which has been in my bag for 5 months, “[tag]Bob’s Ichthyosaur[/tag]” by [tag]John Britt[/tag]. It’s one of those [tag]books[/tag] you would never buy, but somehow you have it in your bag. So, what the heck! Give it a read. So far a very intriguing [tag]fiction[/tag] read, which isn’t my typical Thriller fodder for air travel.
I met John randomly on holiday in Canada with my wife when taking our kid in for an ear infection at a rural hospital. After chatting about emergency room visits and general pleasantries – he gave us a copy of his book and I have finally gotten to it. Regardless of my slack reading habits, I ran into interesting run on sentence in the book which just make one think about how relative spatial relationships are….
“I would have to say our town is North, but not so far north that it’s [tag]north[/tag], or even central for that matter, being to far south for either. So you could say that its [tag]south[/tag] even where its north by most peoples reckoning, and [tag]west[/tag] from most places that matter to most people, but too far east to be west, so its not west either, even if it’s not east which makes it just about anywhere you might be going or might be inclined to go to for that matter”
Where’s your community? Where are you inclined to go?
The online excerpt from the publisher, which is essentially the teaser on the book jacket.:
In th lazy hazy days of old boys, life is a case study of human nature. They are there, the octogenarians and septuagenarians, retired men from farms and business that gather on benches outside of banks and the town halls to theorize on life. The old boys study the passage of rite of Bob, into the world of the old boys. Bob reluctantly falls into the old boy’s club, all the while searching for what is elusive. Into bob’s world enters an extinct forty-foot marine reptile, that lives in the local bay. To satisfy his curiosity, Bob begins his fishing venture determined to capture the elusive Ichthyosaur. A fishing story, an old man’s story, a story reserved for all of those men deserving of being anointed old. Each and every person is searching for their own Ichthyosaur.
While it might not be the typical thing you might read, you might give it a try and think about finding your Ichthyosaur. I am. I’ll let you know when I’m done.