The Antipope - Robert Rankin

    1981; 284 pages.  Book 1 (out of 8) in the “Brentford Trilogy” series.  New Author? : No.  Genres : Absurdism; Humorous Fiction; Far-Fetched Fantasy.  Overall Rating : 7*/10.

 

    There’s something just a bit askew today in the charming West London neighborhood of Brentford.  Neville, the part-time barman at the Flying Swan, can feel it.

 

    No, it’s not any of the patrons at his pub.  As always, John Omally and Jim Pooley are trying to coax a free pint of ale out of him.  Old Pete is merrily drinking with his dog “Chips” and Soap Distant keeps going on about how the earth is a hollow sphere and he can get to the center of it just by going down the steps in his basement.

 

    Maybe it’s that new stranger in town, some tramp in sorry footwear who seems to materialize out of thin air, scaring the bejeezus out of everyone, and apologizing for doing so.  Maybe it’s Omally’s neighbor Archroy, whose wife has just traded his car for five magic beans.

 

    Nope, those aren't the sources of what’s changed.  It’s that dang brewery that supplies the alcoholic libations to the Flying Swan.  They want to redo the tavern's décor and turn it into an American wild west bar.  And what they want, they will get.

    Really guys?  Cowboy-and-Indian decorations in a West London pub?!

 

What’s To Like...

    Robert Rankin is a top-tier author in a genre he calls “far-fetched fiction”, and The Antipope is his debut novel, published way back in 1981.  We get introduced to Jim Pooley and John Omally, who are masters of wit and paragons of anti-heroics, and who also star in a number of other novels in the author's portfolio.

 

    Robert Rankin is British, which means this story is written in English, not American.  So there are things like aluminium and pedlars, kharma and windscreen-wipers, eyries and kerbs, etc.; and they might be fuelled, cosy, skilful, swopping, lustreless, and sombre.  I learned an old Latin motto: “auspicium melioris gevi” (which means “a hope for a better age”) and a handy Gaelic catchphrase: “pogue mahone” (which means… um, okay, google it.)

 

There are a number of interesting subplots for Jim and John to solve:

    a.) What happens if you plant those “magic beans”?

    b.) Who or what is that mysterious tramp with a bad taste in shoes?

    c.) What’s going on with Captain Carson and his “Mission scam”?

    d.) Is the Earth really hollow?

    e.) Are English tipplers ready for a Cowboy bar?

 

    It was enlightening to learn about “Page Three girls” (see below), and the mysterious and mystical fighting art of “Dimac”, the latter being a recurring gag in Robert Rankin books.  “Reekie’s Syndrome” and “The Brentford Shroud” both made me chuckle.  I was surprised by the brief nod to “Brylcreem” (do they still make that stuff?) and loved the titular reference to the historical Pope Alexander VI.

 

    The final showdown is entertainingly tense, although not particularly twisty.  Our pair of antiheroes are forced against their will to do something heroic, and get a bit of help from a friend.  That too is a recurring theme in books featuring Jim and John.  The final chapter is both a touching epilogue and an effective teaser.

 

Kewlest New Word ...

Page Three Girl (n., phrase) : a woman who appears topless in some popular UK newspapers.

Others: Titfer (n., cockney rhyming); Vindaloo (n.), Barnet (n., cockney rhyming); Gobshite (n., vulgar), Flettons (n., plural); Alopecia (n.).

 

 

Ratings…
    Amazon:  4.4/5 based on 189 ratings and 84 reviews.

    Goodreads: 3.74/5 based on 5,013 ratings and 162 reviews.

 

Excerpts...

    “Soap was telling me that flying saucers are manifestations of the static souls of bygone civilizations,” said Neville, who was not only pleased that the subject of Cowboy Night had been forgotten but was also a great stirrer.

    “I’ve heard that little gem on more than one occasion,” said John, “but you and I know that there is a logical and straightforward explanation for that particular phenomenon.”

    “There is?”

    “Of course, flying saucers are in fact nothing more than the chrome-plated helmets of five-mile high invisible fairy folk.”  (loc. 963)

 

    “By fire and water only may they be destroyed,” said the Professor.  “By fire and water and the holy word.”

    Pooley pulled at his sideburns.  “I will put a match to the blighters,” he said valiantly.

    “It is not as simple as that, it never is.  These beans are the symptom, not the cause.  To destroy them now would be to throw away the only hope we have of locating the evil force which brought them here.”

    “I don’t like the sound of this ‘we’ you keep referring to,” said Jim.  (loc. 4958)

 

Kindle Details…

    The Antipope sells for $6.99 at Amazon.  The other seven books in the trilogy (that is not a typo) go for either $3.99 or $6.99, and Robert Rankin also offers a bunch of other standalone novels, ranging from $2.99 to $7.99, plus his 2015 autobiography, I, Robert, priced at $9.00.

 

“If there are no spots on a sugar cube then I’ve just put a dice in my tea.”  (loc. 986)

    According to Wikipedia, The Antipope is actually a combination of several short stories by Robert Rankin, done in order to come up with a full-length novel which would then be hopefully picked up by a publishing house.

 

    The success of this effort is undeniable: it jumpstarted Robert Rankin’s career as a “Far-Fetched Fiction” novelist, and has since spawned more than three dozen books by him, many of which I’ve read and thoroughly enjoyed.

 

    Unfortunately, the patchworking of short stories shows through here.  Several plotlines, such as the hollow earth angle, enter the tale, tease the reader’s imagination, then drift off, never to be seen again or resolved.  Some, such as the cowboy-bar remodeling, simply have no relevance to the main “antipope” storyline and just serve to add pages to the book.

 

    But if the storytelling meanders a bit, Robert Rankin's writing skills save the day.  I still enjoyed tagging along with John and Jim as they save the world in spite of themselves.  My only caveat is: if you’ve never read any Robert Rankin books, this is not the one to read first.

 

    7 Stars.  A bit of music trivia to close things out,  The original name of the Celtic punk band The Pogues was the phrase cited above, Pogue Mahone, but as their popularity grew, they were forced to abandon that name due to BBC censorship.  Somehow that seems strangely fitting for them.