Nick Laird was born in County Tyrone, Northern Ireland in 1975. He read English Literature at Cambridge University, and then worked for several years as a lawyer specializing in international litigation.
He is the author of two novels, Utterly Monkey and Glover's Mistake, and two collections of poetry, To A Fault and On Purpose. A new volume of poetry, Go Giants, is forthcoming from Faber in January 2013.
Laird has won many awards for his fiction and poetry, including the Rooney Prize for Irish Literature, the Jerwood Aldeburgh Prize, the Betty Trask Prize, the Rupert and Eithne Strong award, a Somerset Maugham award, and the Geoffrey Faber Memorial Prize. He has published poetry and essays in many journals including the New Yorker, the London Review of Books and the New York Review of Books, and wrote a column on poetry for two years for the Guardian newspaper.
He has taught at Columbia University, Manchester University and Barnard College.
The opening chapters are the most accurate depiction of life at a big law firm I have ever read. This is not good news.
I kind of stopped caring once the actual plot kicked in, since I can't relate to exciting, sexy, interesting stuff, but if he had stuck to Biglaw-life no one would read the whole thing, so I guess I understand his choice.
Pros: Very vividly described and all the characters feel so real. It helped that I’m from Northern Ireland so it was easy to imagine these people. I think this would make a really fun movie. The characters are flawed but likeable. Even the villain (at times).
Cons: I could do without the description of female bodies. We get it, sexually viable women have boobs. Other women are described as fat or ugly. I get that these characters are a bit of rough but even Danny’s perspective who should know better included it. It’s just so tragically noticeable when men are described in clothes and women in parts.
I've been itching to share my story regarding this book. Check it out: One day, A came home and on the doorknob of his street-facing apartment was a Barnes and Noble bag. Inside was this book. Brand new. No receipt or note or anything. We both assumed it had simply been left on the wrong door, as it's a big apartment complex and the street gets a ton of foot traffic. So he left it there, hoping either the giver or receiver would recognize it and pick it up. It stayed. So I read it. It was a fun read, reminded me of a Guy Ritchie movie, bumbling British guys getting caught up in a money-violence scheme. Lots of slapstick humor, a bit of IRA history, and memorable male characters. It was very visual, cinematic even, and I loved the descriptions of London. I thought, as I read, that Nick Laird seems to see London as Zadie Smith does, but with an obvious white-male slant. When one finds a new book on his or her doorstep, one might hope it's something by Paulo Coelho sending a deep message in a mysterious way. I looked for something like that in the story and didn't really find it. But. The edition that we had included a "P.S." section where it had interviews with the author, poems he'd written, little essays and lists etc. One of the last great books he read? One of my favs by Dave Eggers. Sweet! And, his wife is none other than: Zadie Smith. For some reason learning that tiny fact made me feel triumphant, and seemed to justify it being left for me to read. (Z.Smith is wonderful).
After/if A reads it, the book will be left on another doorstep somewhere. I'd like to think it will be a totally unrelated element that will resonate with the next reader.
On paper, Utterly Monkey should have been great—a crime comedy with plenty of potential for humor and intrigue. Maybe if I’d had more patience, I could have pushed through and finished it. But honestly, something just didn’t flow for me. I stopped after 120 pages of the Hebrew version, and I don’t feel like I missed much by not continuing.
The setup was promising, and there were moments where the humor peeked through, but it never fully landed. The pacing felt uneven, and the characters didn’t grab me enough to make me care about what happened to them. It’s not that the book was bad—it just wasn’t engaging enough to keep me interested.
על פניו אמור להיות אחלה, קומדית פשע. אולי אם היתה לי יותר סבלנות כן הייתי ממשיכה לקרוא, אבל לא יודעת... משהו שם לא זרם לי עד הסוף. עצרתי אחרי 120 עמודים שתי הדמויות הראשיות בגדול לא עניינו אותי. לא היתה הנעה אמיתית בעלילה. אגב, לאורך הקריאה לחלוטין יכולתי להרגיש שזה יכול להפוך לסרט קאלט בריטי שנעשה באמצע-סוף הניינטיז אבל כספר זה פחות עובד.
An easy read, and a sometimes funny situation presents itself. A good vacation book.
Danny Williams didn't mean to be a lawyer, but somehow he is -- and for up to eighteen hours a day. He's well paid, home owning, and twenty-seven but is also overworked, lonely, and frequently stoned. The plan was to leave the troubles of a small town in Northern Ireland for the big city in England, but one evening an old school friend, Geordie, bursts into Danny's shiny new life.
I would like to understand why the author was so keen to describe women in such a gross way for, in my opinion, NO good reason. See p.330 - 'He had always wanted to have sex with a really fat girl' MIDWAY THROUGH CHASING A CRIMINAL..? And other examples that I cannot be bothered to go back and find. I only give 2 stars because I actually finished it. (I was optimistic after finding out the author has been married to Zadie Smith for over 20 years. Ahem).
The characters and plot didn't really catch me, but it kept me entertained and I enjoyed the writing style. "There was a perverse pleasure for Danny in seeing Rollson dishevelled and unkempt; embarassment is most devastating for the normally shevelled and kempt."
I'm rounding up to 4 stars here. Stretches approaching 'great,' but for the most part firmly 'good.' Probably best suited for mid- to late-twenty-something guys.
Toward a Unified Field Theory of Humorous Novel Readers and Writers, with a Bonus Glossary of Anglo-Irish Slang and Cultural References for the Colonial Reader.
I think some readers and writers of humorous novels see themselves as Jane Austen, and others see themselves as Bertie Wooster. Women tend to the former, men to the latter, but that's only a tendency, not an iron-clad sex role. Jane Austens observe closely and comments wisely on the foibles of others. Bertie Woosters fail about with good intentions and spectacular ineffectiveness.
This is a novel written about and apparently by Bertie Woosters.
When Jane Austens read about Bertie Woosters, they are not happy. Bertie is a nincompoop, and apparently no one feels the need to observe closely and comment wisely on it. In fact, the world seems to be turning on its axis just fine without close observation and wise comment on how nincompoopy nincompoops are. This bothers the Jane Austens. The Janes write negative reviews of Bertie Wooster books on Goodreads.
When Bertie Woosters read about other Berties, they enjoy it, because it's reassuring to see some evidence that someone, somewhere, has noticed that the world is as baffling, unfair, ridiculous, and ridicule-worthy as it seems to us, uh, I mean, to them, to the Berties. Further, it's fun to see characters bumble through a novel much as Berties bumble through life and know that they are still the heroes. Everything will turn out all right and they will get the girl. The Berties give positive reviews to books like this on Goodreads.
Bonus Glossary
Criterion for inclusion: adequate definition fails to appear when Kindle cursor is placed next to the word (hence, the exclusion of the terms “scarper”, “borstal”, “secateurs”, “fenian”, “lairy”, and “scunner”).
Entries keyed to Kindle location number – Kindle version of this novel is not burdened with conventional page numbers – and taken from Wikipedia/Wiktionary unless otherwise noted.
pot-sheen (l. 198): moonshine, alternative spelled “poteen”, “potcheen”, or (from Irish) “poitín”.
keks (l. 246): underwear (from urbandictionary.com, definition 8 for the word).
Rangers (l. 304): Glasgow Rangers of the Scottish Premier League.
Ibrox (l. 305): the stadium where Glasgow Rangers play.
Magic Circle (l. 392): a small group of the most prestigious and lucrative law firms in the UK.
Archimedes' cradle (l. 464): [image error]
Trisha (l. 568): A morning TV talk show, starring Trisha Goddard, which aired from 1998 to 2004.
turf someone out (l. 588): to throw out or eject from a place (from thefreedictionary.com).
offy (l. 632): an off-license, a store which sells alcohol (from urbandictionary.com).
Calpol (l. 649): a popular children's cold medicine.
lambeg (l. 739): a large drum (from wordnik.com)
cowp (l. 1067): to fall (from urbandictionary.com)
“There was an intricate balance to Ballyglass. For every Protestant business, a chemists, say, like Martin’s, there was the Roman Catholic equivalent, sometimes right next door. It was an instance of the parallel universe becoming visible, as if two separate towns existed and somehow inhabited the very same space. There were different local papers, schools, churches, pubs, clubs, bars, restaurants, shops, petrol stations, dentists, estate agents, insurance brokers, newsagents, car dealers. The odd thing was that now peace (of sorts) had come, the big businesses from across the water had started arriving. The boots which had been causing Mr Martin sleepless nights had also caused problems for several of the good people of Ballyglass: was the chemists classed as a Protestant or Roman Catholic operation? There was talk of contacting the shareholders. The same went for the barn-like Tesco’s and Sainsbury’s supermarkets which had opened on the edge of town. The Protestants greengrocer, who’d always favored carrots in his window display, and his Roman Catholic equivalent, who’d been fonder of cabbages and broccoli, were now closing, along with various butchers and mini-marts. It was becoming apparent to the place that peace had its own difficulties, and it was only the troubles that had kept the community structure. Now, with the Army barracks dismantled, the two concrete sangars gone from the main street, and the invasion of the multinational chains, Ballyglass was starting to look like it could be in Yorkshire or Surrey. It had turned out the threat of losing your identity hadn’t been from the foreign governments of Dublin or London after all, but instead from the money-makers, the profit margins, the businessmen.”
Utterly Monkey, is the story of human bewilderment in this modern time. Confused between relationships, laws, morals and borders that they themselves made. Some times running away from them and the other times trying to find and embrace them, without knowing what are we really looking for? The story suffers from disconnections in scenario, which might be because of inability of the author to cover complicated subjects such as identity, nationality, friendship, love, logic and reason in one fiction and therefore the book is full of unfinished interesting scenes. Maybe this is another sign of our mental confusion in the new era of information explosion.
“Danny had worked on cases he’d dislike before. He realized that lawyers always allow themselves the casuistry of arguing that everyone is entitled to take part in the legal process, everyone is entitled to justice. And this is true. However lawyers don’t work for everyone. They work for who pays them. And usually the sinned against don’t carry the readies. And usually the best lawyers work only for the richest. The trick for your conscience is to put on lawyer’s gloves before you dirty your hands. Danny wouldn’t consider working for some of the companies or organization he had as clients and yet, in fact, he was. He’d worked for cigarette company acting against smuggling allegations. He’d worked for the pro-hunting lobby. He’d worked for one of the largest arms manufacturers in Britain, defending it on charges of illegally selling weapons to various Middle Eastern countries. He’d worked for crooks and liars. He’d won cases he wished he hadn’t. And now he was trying to get 4000 people sacked in Ulster. Another sophism Danny’s colleagues utilized was that if they didn’t do it, someone else would. So let them, Danny was thinking, as he stared out at the reflected grey of the sky, let someone else do it.”
I kept having to stop and remind myself of that, because it grates against the stereotypes I've memorized to help me understand the politics of Northern Ireland.
Protestant = Loyalist = UVF = Union Jack = what the hell is their political party called?
Catholic = Republican = IRA = TriColors = Sinn Fein = "We ourselves"
But it's never that simple.
I guess one of my problems with this book is that I don't have a good handle on the Ulster situation in general, so I can't follow a story that goes deeper into individual motivations. The characters do not act like stereotypes, so I don't recognize them.
This says more about me than Nick Laird's writing, but it did interfere with the reading experience. Adding that on top of the effort to resist comparisons to White Teeth, and it's really difficult to give this book a fair shake, even on the second go around.
The ease with which Danny moves through both The City and his small hometown seems kind of obnoxious and smug to me right now, but once again, this says more about the reader than the writer. I just never felt like I knew him. Same with Geordie. (BTW, how is that pronounced? Jordy?)
I did like reading through two different male perspectives of falling in love. Even though I thought the women were objectified and completely unrealistic, it's always nice to get a glimpse of what they're thinking.
Unfortunately, it turns out some of the most exciting activities to experience are some of the worst activities to read about: parties, sex, trips to the zoo. Utterly Monkey has all of them, in thorough detail, and these ruminations slow the story considerably.
It makes the sprint toward the end that much harder on the lungs.
Other cultural accompaniments: White Teeth by Zadie Smith (2000) - I can't help it. I mean, really. Chapter Two of White Teeth has two Irish schoolgirls gossiping about: "...all the good-lookin' men, all the rides like your man Nicky Laird...." It's right there. How am I supposed to ignore it?
Grade: B
I leave you with this: "Mooning over his Guinness, Geordie thought about Ulster, that little patch of scorched earth. It had stayed loyal to England and now England didn't want it."
Like a tame Irvin Welsh, Utterly Monkey is a blokey caper novel about two Northern Irish school friends reunited after years of adulthood and very different lives. One is a dull, unemotional London lawyer, intelligent, successful and completely lacking in character. The other, Georgie, is the stereotypical bad influence, a simple, emotional sort with a crude mouth and a talent for getting himself into sticky situations. The current mess involves absconding from Northern Ireland with a huge amount of cash belonging to the violent, posessive brother of his dumb, beautiful girl and landing on his doorstep with no plan except lounging on the sofa and smoking weed.
Mixing the droll lewd comedy of British movies by comedians such as Simon Pegg with a druggy, fail capers of Trainspotting, what follows is a fairly entertaining series of mishaps that culminates in a final fifty that is tense, amusing and satisfying. There is a car chase on a hangover, banana farts, the consolidation of an old friendship after some serious clashes of personality, comedy drawn-on mustaches and a robotic yet bungling villian full of angry violence and very little guile. The whole ordinary blokes caught up in something dangerous works quite well, and it is nicely put into a serious context by the extensive background details of the Northern Ireland conflict and a sense of what it was like to grow up affected by it.
What happens inbetween is a little uninspiring. The initial banter between Georgie and his old friend are ropily scripted and their one moment of conflict is bawdily wrapped in a filthily funny boys sex anecdote that evokes a chuckle but feels a little forced. Worse is the female lead, his black co-worker whose skin colour is commented on more often than necessary. She is idolised and given plenty of respect and restraint, but is essentially written as a trophy for the main guy. The sex scene is excruiatingly detailed without much point to it, and the after sex argument far to common a relationship arc to be interesting.
All in all, Utterly Monkey is fun to read and refreshing in the way that nothing terrible, grotesque or tragic happens to any of the characters. It's a caper story in which everything actually turns out fine - the girl gets safely brought to London and Georgie finds a sentimental side, the aggressive brother is left behind, the evil plot is flawed and no one gets hurt and the good, incredibly boring London professional gets the girl and finds some principles, managing to shame and irritate the annoying boss-character in the process and lay the way for a new start in life that is hopefully a little more fulfilling. It's a shame that, along the way, it's all a little boring and predictable. 4
Had a look at amazon and the man is married to zadie smith. Interesting. Must read white teeth one day.
This is superior lads fiction with good characterisation that makes you like. Its also very funny and could easily be made for the screen.
The book has Danny who has moved from Northern Ireland to work has a solicitor. He is disillusioned with his job and is trying to get into the trainee pants. There is a nice style of showing what people say and what they mean in italics that is applicable to any working environment.
His cosy little world gets interrupted when his waster school friend, geordie, who is on the run from the heavies in the fictional town of Ballyglass. He has already been shot in the legs by them when he gets involved with the main mans sister and then knicks her money.
Another terrorist is sent over to London to recover the money and plant a bomb outside the bank of England... and in the stand out funny episode, the two heros who are stoned and pissed follow him and then try and alert the authorities. It is a bit difficult to get them to believe when you have a moustache penned on and a black eye.
Evokes the spirit of how childhood friendships survive, even when one has moved on, office life, dating in your twenties and even the troubles.
Not a bad book and an enjoyable read. Would look out for more from him.
I really enjoyed this book because it mixed good writing with realism -- which makes it nice to read. It's about two guys who grew up together in Northern Ireland, one of whom moved to London and made good and the other one who's a small-time criminal fleeing from the head guy he'd been dealing with (whose sister he sleeps with and is accidentally in love with). Of course Geordie's past catches up with them, but in the meantime Geordie and Danny have to work through the tensions between them (in as suitably masculine a way as possible). A (black) girl Danny works with who he's trying to woo adds further complications.
We fall for people's things: they earn love by proximity. Danny had once met a girl at university who'd arrived uncluttered by objects, an ascetic, whose few items were almost all plain and gravely funcitonal. In the end, unconsciously desperate for a place to settle his love, Danny had grown attached to an Indian buddha her flatmate had bought that sat on their bath, fatly storing his secret. Danny was a sentimentalist, thus random and quaintly democratic with his love.
Picked this up off the bargain shelf at a local bookstore and was pleasantly surprised, not knowing anything about it. A well crafted story about the waining but still lingering effects of "The Troubles" on two men who were childhood friends in Northern Ireland. One has moved on to London and a successful if tedious career, while the other is on the run seeking sanctuary. The politics are told from the Unionist point of view, which seems to be somewhat of a rarity in most of the literature I have seen or read concerning the subject. But this is more than a "political" novel. In fact it's not much of a political novel at all, unless you want to consider the general politics of work, love, sex, friendship and life in your late 20s in general. Well done...
I’m tired. Just finished this. A quick read taking me three days during which I put in long hours at work doing other stuff. Where do I get the time? It was disappointing really, not the depth or 'Norn Iron' (Northern Ireland) culture I was expecting, although Nick has a wonderful turn of phrase. Early in the novel, the awkwardness and peacock loutishness of a so-called friendship is cringeable but familiar from my 20-something dalliances. The book promised much but delivered a made-for-TV movie. But I haven’t said “Boked” in years or have I boked. Nice to have that word back in my vocabulary.
I enjoyed this book, it made me laugh in places and I liked Danny. It was refreshing to read about a character I could identify with as he is just so normal. Plus I always like the element in books of a bit of historical and cultural perspective, things that have shaped the characters.
This book made me smile and at times have to really stop myself from laughing aloud lest all the other commuters thought I was an insane person!
I think this is quite a male book, maybe intended for a male audience but the reason I liked it so much is that it is down to earth and frank, it was like having a chat in the pub and you just don't get that with books by/for women usually.
A good, easy read. It only gets 3 stars from me, because even though the character development is okay, the way the story is told is not as bold as the story-line dictates it should be. I found it difficult in some places to even visualize what was happening in the story, which is usually not a problem for me. It was a worthwhile read, and an overall good book, I just think it could have been better. Note: If British or Northern Irish slang terms bother you or hamper your reading experience, then don't read this book.
This book was much longer than necessary. As I read it, I felt like it was a long journal kept by Danny Williams, going into every detail of the life he hates. Danny had much to complain about his job, friends, romance, etc. While reading it, I felt bad for this Danny character but it got kind of annoying at times. I don't feel that this is a book that requires much digging into but that might also be the reason why I didn't like it it that much. Overall, I would say this book is mediocre; there were high points but most of it was flat.
The comparisons in some reviews to Guy Ritchie's films may explain why this book proved a complete chore for me as aside from his Sherlock Holmes films, I've not been able to sit through any of his films.
I only read it because it was a selection for my library reading group. I think it must have sounded much better in summary than it proved - at least for me. Just had no interest in the plot or characters.
I read it quickly because I just couldn't bare to have it hanging about 'to be read'.
L'idea alla base del racconto non è male anche se non molto originale. L'autore però non riesce a sviluppare fino in fondo gli aspetti e le tematiche più importanti del libro e il risultato è un lavoro che appare poco approfondito e che lascia una sensazione sgradevole di "vorrei ma non posso" declassando tutta la storia. Si ha così la sensazione di una lettura di puro disimpegno, e certo non era questa l'unica intenzione di Laird. L' humour promesso dal Sunday Times sulla copertina (bella!!) è davvero raro.
this was one of the first books in my mission to read all the billions of advanced readers copies i got for free when i was working at borders. not so into it. the only good thing i can say about it is that at least it was quick. the storyline was predictable and never really kicked in. i am now inclines to believe the reviews that say the only reason this book was published at all is that the author is zadie smiths husband.
Mixed reviews from my book group on this but I loved it! Modern day story of two former childhood friends who had weathered tough times in Northern Ireland together , reunited in London for some unexpected adventures. It was farcical at times; laugh-out-loud funny descriptions of office life appealed to me. Some interesting insights into life in Northern Ireland in these relative "peaceful" days & reconciling that with the past.
- I enjoyed this humorous story of Danny Williams who leaves small-town Northern Ireland to become a lawyer for a big firm in London England, but becomes drawn back into the troubles of his youth when a childhood friend drops in to stay (while on the run from Loyalist Militia) - Laird is Zadie Smith's husband - and apparently there is a gratuitous mention of her novel "White Teeth", although I somehow missed it
Like many others, I suspect, I read this book because I was so damn curious about this man Zadie Smith married. And you know, I was pleasantly surprised. The book's a fun and fast-paced read, with a few good insights into the psyche of the British lad with regard to women and friendships. I'm eager to check out Laird's poetry...