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Humor - novel
TBR Reviewer: Kim
TBR Reviewer: Kim
Review
This is the story of the parish of Ceanngoorley and it's highly irreverent parish priest, Father Fergus O'Hoora. When one of the parishioners wins the Lottery and claims the Statue of our Lady gave him the numbers, he sets off a chain of events that noone could have foreseen. Thwarted by a vengeful bishop, and an American tourist bent on finding his roots, Father O'Hoora has a hilarious riot on his hands.
Despite the horrible cover, this was laugh out loud funny from the get go. The cast of characters played on the stereotype of being ever so slightly thick Irishmen and portrayed the clergy to be drunken adulterers. The story itself was loosely based around the Lottery win and the so-called miracle, but even that seemed to play second fiddle to the hilarious goings on in the background. I would advise you not to read this in public unless you like funny looks being shot in your direction.
I understand this is the author's debut novel. If this is the standard set, I for one cannot wait until the next one. Highly recommended!
Despite the horrible cover, this was laugh out loud funny from the get go. The cast of characters played on the stereotype of being ever so slightly thick Irishmen and portrayed the clergy to be drunken adulterers. The story itself was loosely based around the Lottery win and the so-called miracle, but even that seemed to play second fiddle to the hilarious goings on in the background. I would advise you not to read this in public unless you like funny looks being shot in your direction.
I understand this is the author's debut novel. If this is the standard set, I for one cannot wait until the next one. Highly recommended!
Excerpt
"CEANNGOORLEY LOTTO MIRACLE", was the front page headline on the first newspaper O'Hoora picked up on Monday morning. He was in his study by eight AM. His first phone call was from Bishop St. Patrick.
"Father O'Hoora, where were you last night?" he demanded.
If only you knew, thought O'Hoora, remembering Sisters Inga and Eileen and the best six hundred pounds of parish funds he had spent in a very long time.
"Attending to some urgent business," he replied. "What can I do for you on this glorious summer morning, your Grace?"
"What's this nonsense about a lottery miracle? Your parish is all over the front pages of every newspaper in the country, except the Daily Lord."
"What's on their front page?"
"NOAH'S ARK FOUND ON THE MOON. But never mind that. You must put a stop to this foolishness, at once. That drunken imbecile, whom I'm informed is not even a regular churchgoer, has turned Ceanngoorley into a circus. Even as I speak, there are probably newspaper hacks, television crews and all manner of undesirables beating a path to the village, intent on exploiting an innocent statue for every ounce of publicity they can milk from it."
"I should hope so," said O'Hoora.
"What!" exploded the Bishop. "May God forgive you, Father O'Hoora. That drunk was playing a childish joke. If the statue of our Blessed Virgin did see fit to move, it would not be to aid and abet an enterprise of gambling, a vice of which God and I both strongly disapprove."
O'Hoora sighed patiently. "Listen, your Grace. Whether or not Jimmy O'Jaysus was telling the truth is irrelevant. As far as the general public is concerned, a miracle has occurred. By this afternoon, Ceanngoorley will be like Vatican City on Easter Sunday. We'll be on news bulletins from here to the darkest recesses of Africa. Think of all that publicity. All those pilgrims clutching rosary beads and lottery tickets. All that money."
"Father O'Hoora, where were you last night?" he demanded.
If only you knew, thought O'Hoora, remembering Sisters Inga and Eileen and the best six hundred pounds of parish funds he had spent in a very long time.
"Attending to some urgent business," he replied. "What can I do for you on this glorious summer morning, your Grace?"
"What's this nonsense about a lottery miracle? Your parish is all over the front pages of every newspaper in the country, except the Daily Lord."
"What's on their front page?"
"NOAH'S ARK FOUND ON THE MOON. But never mind that. You must put a stop to this foolishness, at once. That drunken imbecile, whom I'm informed is not even a regular churchgoer, has turned Ceanngoorley into a circus. Even as I speak, there are probably newspaper hacks, television crews and all manner of undesirables beating a path to the village, intent on exploiting an innocent statue for every ounce of publicity they can milk from it."
"I should hope so," said O'Hoora.
"What!" exploded the Bishop. "May God forgive you, Father O'Hoora. That drunk was playing a childish joke. If the statue of our Blessed Virgin did see fit to move, it would not be to aid and abet an enterprise of gambling, a vice of which God and I both strongly disapprove."
O'Hoora sighed patiently. "Listen, your Grace. Whether or not Jimmy O'Jaysus was telling the truth is irrelevant. As far as the general public is concerned, a miracle has occurred. By this afternoon, Ceanngoorley will be like Vatican City on Easter Sunday. We'll be on news bulletins from here to the darkest recesses of Africa. Think of all that publicity. All those pilgrims clutching rosary beads and lottery tickets. All that money."
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