By Sue Townsend
This 5th installment of Adrian Mole's diary (The mystery Diary of Adrian Mole elderly thirteen 3/4; Adrian Mole: The Cappuccino Years, etc.) breaks new flooring with its predicament for present affairs and its sympathetic therapy of not-always-exemplary characters. Adrian, as ordinary, is suffering from quite a few relationships and with consistent monetary difficulties, regularly attempting to do the fitting factor, yet often giving in to his baser urges, in love and in spending. He turns into by accident engaged to dollhouse-building homebody Marigold whereas spending flirtatious evenings with formative years love Pandora; fires off missives to the likes of Tony Blair and Tim Henman; and works, surely, to be an outstanding father, buddy and ex-husband to a forged of frequently extraordinary yet continuously human characters. Townsend, writer of diverse non-Adrian novels, performs and nonfiction, makes Adrian's grownup disorientation palpable as he attempts to determine how he went from web hosting a well-liked tv exhibit to operating in a failing second-hand bookstall, and copes with the surprise of seeing formative years bullies make strong and youth desires move awry. Arguments in regards to the struggle determine prominently: one in every of Adrian's sons is shipped to Iraq; his ally, Robert, is there, too. Adrian's reactions to the struggle are advanced, humorous and wrenching. by the point the diary breaks off (on Sunday, July 22, 2004), issues are having a look up for Adrian and a bridesmaid—and he's contemplating (to her consternation) writing an autobiography.
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Additional info for Adrian Mole and the Weapons of Mass Destruction
He smiles. “And no, I did not eat a deep-fried Twinkie at the fair, but yes, I was an Eagle Scout, played football and French horn, and graduated from med school. Pediatric resident. Engaged. I had a pretty sweet life until the accident. Drunk driver with a big pot belly filled with beer. Splat. ” I don’t know what to say. “There’s nothing to say,” Bob says, and looks at me so kindly his eyes are like sunlamps. “Except that, of course, you can ask me anything you wish, either now or later. Anything, do you hear?
Instead, after only six months of dating, he was asking me to marry him. “Molly Divine, you are the woman for me,” he said. ” After Barry and I had briefly dated in college, I’d had three serious relationships: Trevor, who dumped me for Sarah; Jeff, whom I dumped when I began falling asleep during sex; and Christian, whom I broke up with not because he was Christian but because if your idea of hors d’oeuvres is deviled eggs made with Miracle Whip, you can’t grow old beside me. I considered Barry’s good qualities.
With a look you’d offer a closely related lunatic, he pulled me toward him. “Must be the pregnancy hormones. ” I pushed him away and ran out of the room, slamming a door behind me, my fantasy shattered like bone china hurled down a staircase. I could be dramatic. Again, we negotiated, which in decorating is no different than it is in anything else—nobody gets what he or she wants. Our capacious kitchen looks as if it belongs in New Canaan, Connecticut, with glass-fronted, white-lacquered, nickel-latched cabinets, the home for an undistinguished collection of blue-and-white transferware bowls and platters.
Adrian Mole and the Weapons of Mass Destruction by Sue Townsend