Customer Reviews

The Book of Dave : A Revelation of the Recent Past and the Distant Future

5 star:		(8)
4 star:		(3)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

This is a wonderfullly mind-bending book that works on so many levels it would definitely reward a second reading. Its premise is pretty strange: in a post-apocalyptic England, turned into an achipelago by global warming, a brutal and backward society is ruled by a religion based on a holy text of "revealed truth," The Book of Dave. Fast-rewind to the present and it soon becomes clear that The Book is the psychotic rantings of a London cabbie of the same name, engraved on stainless steel plates and buried in his estranged wife's garden. The purpose of this insanity is to pass to his son "The Knowledge" of London streets, routes and points of interest that cabbies need to memorize to get their license. Intewoven with this is Dave's worldview, venomously warped by rage at the ex-wife, longing for his "Lost Boy," and the side-effects of a stew of mis-prescribed drugs.

The first chapter of Will Self's book, set in 522 AD (After Dave) was almost incomprehensible, even though I lived and studied in England for years and I am quite conversant with cockney and London lore. It is worth persevering, however. Slowly the realization dawns that many of the strange vocabulary and practices relate to taxis and their drivers. The ubiquitous holy (or "davine") greeting, rendered in horrible texting abbreviation, is "Ware2, guv?" Anyone who ever hailed a cab in London knows that these are the first words out of the driver's mouth. In the dystopian future these are words that connect one to Dave's sacred world. Priests are "Drivers," prayer is "intercom," wise and exalted people are addressed as "rearview," souls are "fares," heretics are "fliers." The last one took a while to decipher: in the present, fliers are people who take a cab to Heathrow to leave London, and they are by definition heretics, leaving behind the familiar, wondrous, endlessly interesting London.

The novel unfolds in 16 chapters that alternate between the dystopian future and the blighted present, skipping back and forth even within their own era. In the future there is rigid separation of the sexes, with the children spending exactly half a week with each parent (as Dave the cabbie prescribed in his Book). The routes and sights ("runs and points") are endlessly recited by rote, even though they have disappeared for centuries, although some of them are being rebuilt in grotesque caricature by people who have no idea what they looked like. The people are kept in brutal servitude for the benefit of King Dave III and his Lawyers (feudal landlords) by a combination of religious doctrine, a cadre of Drivers (state-sanctioned priests), Examiners, spies, and armed thugs. That the rantings of the demented cabbie become the holiest of holies and the entire basis of a society is exactly the point: Dave's steel-engraved bile served the purpose of the rulers, but then, as the author redundantly points out, they would have used whatever else was at hand and fit the need.

In the parallel narratives, all is not doom and gloom. Dave recovers his sanity; in 510 AD a new prophet ("geezer")preaches a gospel of love and freedom, based on the idea that Dave wrote his Book when he was "off his rocker," then wrote another book repudiating the first and prescribing kindness and reconciliation. According to this new gospel men and women can live together and use the fruits of their own labor. Of course the geezer threatens the social order and is swiftly sent to the Tower of New London. His grisly fate is unclear until his son sets out to find him and understand the nature of his dad's heresy ("flying"). I won't give away any more, but only say that along the way Will Self's pessimism burns through like a smoldering fire.

As one reads along, things become clear. American readers will still find it hard going. The many twists and turns of the plots and subplots take us through present and future London in all its bewildering detail. There are side trips along the way to take in the bigoted world of cabbies, the crazy antics of militant fathers' rights activists, private detectives, loan sharks, etc. In the future, we get vivid descriptions of the priests, inquisitors, torturers, executioners, informers (CCTV men), taxmen and flunkies as well as some strange, genetically engineered talking pig/ cow/ human creatures called motos. Parallels between the two worlds are piled up with abandon; I'm sure I only got a fraction of all the allusions and references, but I will read the novel again.

In all, this is a strange and wonderful book, one well worth reading and rereading. The New Yorker reviewer talks about Will Self's boundless misanthropy. I know from experience that there is plenty of that in the UK, but I would disagree in this case. A misanthrope would not have created such a vivid world, in all its mostly repulsive detail, leavened with flashes of heroism, goodness and nobility. For all their sadness and futility, Will Self's flawed heroes, current and future, struggle for sanity and kindness. That they mostly fail is not due to misanthropy; I take it as a cautionary tale.

The novel is long and complicated. It necessitates consulting with a glossary of invented words and a dictionary. Prepare for an aggressively dark narrative of misogyny, religious repression, domestic violence.

There is enough portrayal of cruelty and bigotry, mental illness and torture to evoke intense revulsion and disgust, a hallmark of this British writer's fiction.

The Book of Dave is sometimes as off-putting as Self's five previous novels but arrives at a pinnacle of accomplishment.

The plot is sturdy and the prose is voluptuous. The emotional range he hones is symphonic, retaining the initial simple notes of rage of the character.

Dave Rudman, a balding London taxi driver undergoing a nasty divorce, holds a lot of rage. His wife, Michelle, wrings him over a custody battle over their son, Carl.

He expresses his rants and buries them.

His denied fatherhood is a mortal blow, unsoothed by the "Fathers First" support group Dave attends.

Alternating with these chapters is a narrative that unfolds hundreds of years later. A flood has devastated London and its surrounding areas. The most vital relic from the antediluvian world? The "Book of Dave," exhumed long ago and worshiped as a bible with Dave as its god.

On one outer island, Hams, residents live a primitive farming life. Their theocracy is organized around their deity's ordained sacred scriptures: 21st-century cabbie lore and child-custody laws.

In daily prayers, the Hamsters pay fervent thanks to Dave. They chant the names of extinct London streets from obsolete cab-driving routes.

Men must live apart from women. Women are routinely abused and forced to do most of the work. Children religiously observe Changeover, spending half the week with their mothers and half with fathers.

Anyone who dares to transgress the scriptures risks a public trial followed by excruciatingly tortuous punishments.

No actual taxi cabs exist in this post-technological future world. There are, in fact, no wheels at all, except in the capital some distance away. There, a huge, Inquisition-like wheel of torture is used to punish heretics.

As a futuristic fantasy, Ham resembles Hundred Acre Wood more than "Blade Runner."

The contrast between Ham's primitive culture and Dave's current day London, with its "neuralgia of ceaseless communication," is part of the writer's larger point about the circular spiral of history.

Self's alternating chapters ingeniously show how fragile new civilizations are, constructed atop the past and never really advancing.

Dave daydreams about a great flood while stuck in traffic; stuck on their island, the Hamsters aspire to plastic fragments stamped "Made in China."

A brilliant work that incisively stirs, disturbs and enlightens. This is a book to have and to give. The prose alone is impeccable and lush.

I'm a speed reader. When I encountered this book, I found myself forced to slow WAY down, even to read out loud, so I could understand the dialect in which the dystopian sections are written (kind of like a text-messaged cockney). As a Mormon, I found the treatment of revealed religion had a special resonance with me--the buried plates were such a clever twist. Overall, I felt like I left this book knowing more about the human condition than when I started, and I was also thoroughly entertained. I highly recommend The Book of Dave.

The maps and glossary to Will Self's amazing invented language are critical to the story. They are poorly scanned and blurry. The glossary is difficult to read and the maps are actually impossible. Some of the transliterations from futuristic cockney to written word were just wrong. For example "ol'", a dialect pronunciation for "whole" appeared on Kindle as the numeral "61." This particular error happened with several words. I only discovered it because in my frustration to understand what Self was writing I got ahold of a hard copy text and tracked down the words.

It is frustrating to read such a remarkable book and be unable to access the tools and even some of the language. Get a hard copy. Don't buy it on Kindle.

As a Londoner, there were lots of cultural references that kept me interested and made me laugh at times.

A lot of dialog is in a kind of phonic cockney, it became easier to get through but I never really got fluent. I think it'd be pretty tough for a non-native speaker.

I loved the premise, liked the book.

As is the case with most dystopian novels, I began feeling lost and confused. I immediately regretted having strayed from my literally routine of handpicking each book I read. The novel begins in a bizarre futuristic English landscape where the characters speak in a muddled language called Mokni, an invented dialect of English derived from Cockney, taxi-drivers' and Dave's own usages, text-messaging, and vocabulary peculiar to the late 20th and early 21st centuries.

It took about a hundred pages and a trip back to the twentieth century for me to finally find my footing in the language. But once I did, I began to see the beauty of what Self was doing- Using a sharp and critical satirical prose, he carefully crafts an intricate novel of amazing depth. There is not much more to say- there is never a point where The Book of Dave is not extremely well written. The stories from the past, present and future seamlessly intertwine to create a biting mirror reflecting the hypocrisy and absurdity of religious dogma. I will end the review here, by saying that this is a novel that is worth your time. Before I end this post, I did want to make some comments about the thoughts that were alighted because of this text.

While I often expose an aggressive atheism, I like to think that I tote a robust and healthy spiritualism. I am a seeker and enjoy contemplating spiritual matters. Never one to shy away from discussions about the purpose of life, morality, or the human condition, I am always looking for conversations about topics steeped in mysticism and exploration.

What has always turned me off religious discussions is the certainty of truth. The reliance (faith) on dogma and holy books. The prescriptive rules and hoop jumping of organized salvation is not for me. Let me wallow in a Walt Whitman poem, or Rumi, or Bukowski, till I see a light that guides me through the darkness. Your "book" may be the outline that leads you to peace, but it lost me when it demanded that I should have dominion over all the creatures of the earth, or when it took it upon itself to classify certain forms of sexuality as abominations.

Be kind. Love your enemies. Show compassion. Treat others as I would like to be treated. These are ideas I can get behind, and honestly the holy books hold no monopoly on these ideas.

What does any of this have to do with The Book of Dave? Throughout the novel, Self creates a world that illuminates the childishness of relying on scripture as self-evident truth that should be followed to the tee.

I often found myself shaking my head at the idiocy of the men of Ham as they were misguided by the madness of Dave Rudman. Dave unleashes a rant at the zeitgeist of a psychotic breakdown, that becomes The Book for the future denizens of Hampstead. I couldn't help to think how much of the material from our holy books could have been written by, if not madmen, than surely by the non-evolved minds of a tribe of desert nomads two thousand years ago. The realization that so much of our world is dictated by interpretations of random thoughts of ghosts from the past would be ludicrous if it were not so sad

Whether you are religious or not, this is a thought provoking novel that will leave you questioning how much of the holy books were meant to be questioned and how much was meant to be lived. What do you think? Do we still need such a prescriptive guideline to direct our morality? Be kind. Love your enemies. Show compassion. Treat others as you would like to be treated. We haven't even gotten that right yet. Isn't that enough? Maybe once we can learn to be openminded and loving we can begin to worry whether or not women are less than men because they came from a man who was made from mud in the image of a loving/vengeful god.

i read a positive review of this book months ago and picked it up. but when i started reading it on my last silent retreat, i had no idea what to expect, and merely chose it because i like to start those retreats with something story-driven and fictional, as a detox.

what i didn't expect was a long (475 pages) and challenging read that blew me away in both its creativity and it's allegory nature. more on what it's an allegory of in a moment.

first, a description. the book of dave takes place in two times: current day london, and an extremely distant future london. we don't know the actual date of how far in the future the future-scenes are, as the calendar system resets with the discovery of "the book of dave" at some point in the future, and those future-scenes takes place about 500 years after that point.

in the current time, dave rudman is a bitter london cabbie, working through an ugly divorce and custody issues surrounding his son. his obsession with "the knowledge" (the massive and perfect memory of all streets cab drivers have to have in london) informs just about everything in this life. after things take a decidedly bad turn for him (and, fueled by anti-depressant meds), dave writes a book -- a missive about what's wrong with society and the rules that should govern everyone. this book he writes starts with the "runs and points" of "the knowledge", and shifts into a diatribe about the inability of men and women (mommies and daddies) to live together. dave has this tome printed as a one-off book, on metal plates (for indestructability), and burries it in the backyard of the home where his estranged wife and son are living.

eventually, dave gets some things figured out in life, finds love and peace, and after discovering that his hidden book is irretrievable (due to a new concrete deck built over the spot), writes a second book as a personal cathartic exercise, overturning much of what he wrote in the first book. dave's story is really a beautiful story of redemption.

in the future time, a catastrophic world-wide episode of some sort (some allusions to polar ice-caps melting) has wiped out most of the world with noah-like effect. all technology as we know it is gone (and forgotten). things seem to be as they would have been in, say, the 1500s (or so). oh, and the geography of southern england has completely changed. most of the future-story takes place on a small island off the coast of england where a primitive clan of families live a simple isolated life, under the burden of "daviantity", the hard-core state religion that took hold of all of england in the wake of the discovery of the book of dave. this religion is mostly incomprehensible in it's meaning, but the rules are all very clear: particularly the rules about the complete seperation of men and women, with children spending half the week in "daddy time" and half the week in "mommy time".

the language of this time is part of what makes this book a challenging read: it's a phonetically-spelled goulash of extreme cockney, mixed in with text-message shorthand, and a whole new set of slang vocabulary that only starts to make sense as the book unfolds (though there is a glossary in the back of the book to unpack some words). at first, i found myself reading some of this dialogue with only partial understanding of what i was reading (even regular words). but i got used to it, and really got a kick out of it. many of the slang words are cab-driving-related (for instance, the only acceptable greeting upon meeting someone -- used when we would say "hi", or "how are you?" -- is "ware to, guv?". and the only acceptable response, for followers of davianity is, "t' nu london").

we follow two generations in this future time, over about 30 years, or so. the chief protagonist is a boy without a father. he doesn't know much about his father, but eventually learns that his father was declared a heretic for claiming to have found a second book written by dave that overturns much of davianity (i'll not go much further there, as i don't want to spoil anything). eventually, the boy, along with a heretically-leaning tutor, discovers some truth about the second book and his father, and embarks on an epic journey to new london (still a major city, but more like what london would have been like in the 16th or 17th century) to find truth, escape the island, and search out the rest of his father's story.

now: the author clearly intended the book as commentary on a whole bunch of things, not least of which is the role of religion in society. and, clearly, the author does not have a positive view of the church or religion. this is postmodern commentary, though, as the heroes of the story still have ardent and passionate faith (in dave, no less!), but not in the structures and strictures of the religion set up to encase it, or the forceable control this religious system has over all people (in england, davianity hasn't reached the rest of the world), all practices, all life.

on one hand, that's the commentary in a nutshell. at first, it struck me as an allegory (whether the author indended this or not) of the law and grace, of an old testament system and the threat of a new testament system - the threat of jesus, if you will. but I found myself seeing another level: an allegory of the current church in america (or, to be fair, around the world), and the church's response to the "threat" of the emerging church. over and over I found myself drawing parallels and connecting dots. certainly, the author can't have intended this: but I found so much resonance at this level.

a fascinating book, at face value, and at these "other" story levels.

This is a richly, intricately, thoroughly well-thought through post-apocalyptic fantasy about an unimaginably distant future in which we and all our works either have been forgotten or are misinterpreted in bizarre and sometimes very funny ways. In this world a tyrannical religion runs amok to the benefit of the political power structure. Sound familiar?

The book follows two storylines, that of present-day Dave Rudman, the unknowing inventor of said religion, an angry, depressive, borderline psychotic London cabbie who writes and buries the Book of Dave for the son he is no longer allowed to see, or, failing that, as a gift to the future and revenge on all humanity. He has no idea. The second storyline follows future people trapped in the grim social structure he has imagined.

Caveats: almost all the dialogue in the latter storyline is carried on in a futurespeak that is part text messaging abbreviation and part Cockney slang. This is very difficult, especially for Americans, but not impossible. A lifetime of PBS helps. So does the glossary provided, though not enough.

If there's one thing I really did not like, it's that the second storyline does not end. Self sets up a tremendous cliffhanger that can go either way. One turns the page in breathless anticipation, to discover there's nothing more. Now, other novels I have read that use this device each contains the clues necessary for one to figure the thing out for oneself. This is even rather satisfying when, late at night on the verge of falling asleep, one finally solves the puzzle. In this case, the clues don't seem to exist. Either I'm not as smart as I thought (always possible), or the failure of imagination is the author's. I can see how either of the obvious resolutions might be vaguely unsatisfactory, but that's one reason we read the works of people cleverer than ourselves, to be astonished. Perhaps, in this case, the thing's just a cheat.

Although clearly inspired by the Russel Hoban book "Riddley Walker", my initial reservations soon turned to admiration, "The Book of Dave: A Novel" is excellent fun and especially good for someone like myself who spent 23 years living in London. Also makes me think of the Monty Python film "Life of Brian" were Brian is mistaken for Jesus. "He's not the messiah, he's a very naughty boy!" Highly recommended!

THE BOOK OF DAVE took me by surprise! I adored the book and found the story line clever...allegorical? yes, adventurous? yes, logical, of course!

No need to echo the other reviews as far as the plot and story line go, it's funny and well executed.

I put myself through college driving a taxicab in Manhattan...ever since then, I've been fascinated by cabbies all over the world. I worked for a few UK firms so I got to see "knowledge boys" first hand as they learned their trade. The evolution of that "cabbie speak" and obscure "cabbie knowledge" were enough to keep me madly reading on and on. And the post-apocalyptic touches were brilliant...no nukes here, rather a slow inundation of the UK by rising water, leaving Hampstead as a lonely little island on the outskirts of nowhere.

Highly recommended!