The literary year
in retrospect
52
weeks, 52 books, 52 reviews. That is a lot of paragraphs! There were many
that took my fancy, but the one that gave me the most enjoyment was “The
Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid” from Bill Bryson. The subtitle is
“Travels through my childhood”, (Random House, Black Swan books 2007, ISBN
978-0-552-15546-5).
Bryson introduces you to 1951, the year of his birth. He reminds the reader
that the following items were new, or about to be invented, covering
“ball-point pens, fast foods, TV dinners, electric can openers, shopping
malls, … contact lenses, credit cards, tape recorders, LP records and the
hydrogen bomb. Microwave ovens were available but weighed 700 pounds.”
Bryson is the master of the unassuming entrance and the wonderfully
rambunctious exit in his literary style. Take the description of his
father’s stash of girlie magazines – “in a secret place, known only to him,
me and one hundred and eleven of my closest friends, in his bedroom.”
He describes a bygone era, “Kids were always outdoors – I knew kids that
were pushed out the back door at eight in the morning and not allowed back
in until five unless they were on fire or actively bleeding.”
Bryson shows the origins of the Thunderbolt Kid, a being he could turn into,
who could reduce others to smoldering holes on the carpet with one withering
glance, which brought back images of that wonderful 1963 movie Billy Liar,
starring Tom Courtenay as Billy, and Julie Christie (with whom I remain
eternally in love) as his girlfriend. I wonder if Bill Bryson has seen it?
Bryson writes that he suspected that he was actually from another planet,
having made the discovery of his supernatural powers of being able to kill
morons when he was almost six years old. A feat he claims he has carried to
this day.
Bryson has a surgeon’s eye when it comes to dissecting the society of the
1950s (in fact, any society – just read his other books) and details the
ludicrous McCarthy years of ‘reds under the bed’ where even stripper Gypsy
Rose Lee was accused of seditious acts. (At least the honorable Senator
couldn’t claim she was hiding evidence on her person, I suppose.) It was
during this time, Bryson reports, that double Nobel prizewinner Linus
Pauling had his passport confiscated on his way to be honored by the Royal
Society in the UK. His transgression? “He had once or twice publicly
expressed a liberal thought,” writes Bryson.
It is always rewarding to read prose from someone who can use the English
language expressively, and Bill Bryson is a master of the art form. Consider
his description of an old lady as “glacially slow, interestingly
malodorous.”
Like all of Bill Bryson’s books, it is wonderfully written and evocative
expose, not really of the life of a young boy, but the whole American
society of the 1950s. It is a classic piece of rear vision, without
attempting to appear wise in hindsight. At a once-only price of B. 395, it
will give a lifetime of laughs. I loved it. Do get it.
