Howard Jacobson's latest, and brazenly autobiographical book is a
savagely funny, bittersweet homage to growing up Jewish in 1950s
Manchester. The contradictory central character - Oliver Walzer,
is, at the outset, a chronically shy but relentlessly filthy-minded
teen, good for nothing except ping-pong at which he excels. A
misogynistic mummy's (or rather, aunties') boy he struggles to get
a grip in the macho world of his market trader father and the
Kardomah - coffeehouse and mecca of sin for randy teenagers. He
eventually escapes to Cambridge and further humiliations only to
return years later finally proving that home really is where the
heart is no matter how much you think you hate it. (Kirkus UK)
From the beginning Oliver Walzer is a natural - at ping-pong. Even with his improvised bat (the Collins Classic edition of DR JEKYLL AND MR HYDE) he can chop, flick, half-volley like a champion. At sex he isnot a natural, being shy and frightened of women, but with tuition from Sheeny Waxman, fellow member of the Akiva Social Club Table Tennis team, his game improves. And while the Akiva boys teach him everything he needs to know about ping-pong, his father, Joel Walzer, teaches him everything there is to know about 'swag'. Unabashedly autobiographical, this is an hilarious and heartbreaking story of one man's coming of age in 1950's Manchester. It is Howard Jacobson's masterpiece.
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