I really need to find a book written in proper English.
You see, I’ve just finished The Book of Dave, by Will Self. Without giving out too much, it’s a post-apocalyptic tale set in England, where people follow a religion based on a book buried some 500 years before - in the year 2000 - by a crazy taxi driver called Dave.
But this is not the only thing that changed: the inhabitants of Ing (yep, that’s the name of what’s left of England) speak a warped cockney dialect dubbed mockney, and a considerable part of the book is written on it. It really demands some effort and several visits to the glossary at the end of the book to get the reading going. Fortunately the story is worth it, and after 50 pages or so you’re up to speed.
I finished it last week and dove straight into Porno, by Irvine Welsh. I must confess that, as much as I liked The Book of Dave, I was relieved to read a book written in proper English for a change.
Only it isn’t.
The Scottish accent is famous for being a thick mess of syllables that is challenging even for those born in other parts of the UK. Guess what? Welsh chooses to reproduce it in writing. Yeah, it adds to the personality of the characters, but take a look at this:
Ootside Nivir fuckin well slept last night. Didnae fuckin well want tae. Jist sat up looking at they waws, thinkin: the morn, ah’m fuckin ootay here.
I shit you not. I’m still at the beginning and the story is starting to pick up now. I just hope my brain doesn’t melt before I finish.