Tietam Brown
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- ¥1,000
発行者による作品情報
If you’re one of those crying-to-your-shrink-cause-your-childhood-was-SO-hard type of people, you should probably read #1 New York Times Bestselling author Mick Foley’s fiction debut, Tietam Brown, for a reality check. Even if you’re not one of them, stop your whining and pick up the damn thing anyway.
Atietam “Andy” Brown is a seventeen year-old with a busted hand, and a missing ear. He’s arrived at his father’s house to start life anew after being raised alternately in foster homes and juvenile detention centers where his life hung by a thread on more than one occasion. With this fresh start in hand he hopes he’s got a shot at completing his childhood like a normal kid. But when he realizes that his father’s favorite activities are naked beer-guzzling weight lifting, and sleeping with his classmate’s mothers, well, let’s just say his prospects for the future are once again dimmed. That is, until he finds out that Terri, the hottest cheerleader in school, likes him. (Nice work, Andy!)
Funnier than professional wrestling and smarter than nuclear physics, Tietam Brown is sure to pin you for a three-count to your reading chair.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
If Freud and de Sade were to pen story lines for WWF Smackdown! the result might be this lurid coming-of-age novel by Foley, a former professional wrestler and author of two bestselling memoirs, Foley Is Goodand Have a Nice Day! Andy Brown is an archetypal high school underdog, a misshapen, motherless misfit tormented by the football coach and tantalized by the minister's daughter. At home, dad Tietam is an alcoholic bodybuilding enthusiast who does nude calisthenics in the living room in between noisy bedroom sessions with a parade of three-night-stand women; he parents Andy by offering him beer, condoms and crude sexual pointers. As Andy learns about manhood from dubious role models, first-time novelist Foley finds adult fiction a truly unrefereed arena where the wrestling sensibility can break free of PG-13 constraints. The boisterous narrative fluctuates between bawdy picaresque and episodes of berserk violence full of smashed teeth, crushed tracheas, gouged eyes, sudden, tables-turning castration and heterosexual, homosexual, pedophilic and incestuous varieties of rape. The cartoonish characters are Oedipal tag teams battling for Andy's soul; every man is a bully or a pervert, every woman a sentimentalized madonna/whore duality ruined by male predation. Foley is not much of a stylist. He mingles villainous trash-talk dialogue and stilted sexual banter ("I'll admit right now to being somewhat distracted by the pleasant tingling in my penile area") in a Rabelaisian tone as self-conscious and overbearing as a large man in tiny trunks. But readers in the mood for vigorous pulp may enjoy this steroid-fueled brawl.
