Synopsis:
"This is a bawdy tale. Herein you will find gratuitous shagging, murder, spanking, maiming, treason, and heretofore unexplored heights of vulgarity and profanity, as well as nontraditional grammar, split infinitives, and the odd wank . . . If that's the sort of thing you think you might enjoy, then you have happened upon the perfect story!"
Verily speaks Christopher Moore, much beloved scrivener and peerless literary jester, who hath writteneth much that is of grand wit and belly-busting mirth, including such laurelled bestsellers of the Times of Olde Newe Yorke as Lamb, A Dirty Job, and You Suck (no offense). Now he takes on no less than the legendary Bard himself (with the utmost humility and respect) in a twisted and insanely funny tale of a moronic monarch and his deceitful daughters—a rousing story of plots, subplots, counterplots, betrayals, war, revenge, bared bosoms, unbridled lust . . . and a ghost (there's always a bloody ghost), as seen through the eyes of a man wearing a codpiece and bells on his head.
Fool
A man of infinite jest, Pocket has been Lear's cherished fool for years, from the time the king's grown daughters—selfish, scheming Goneril, sadistic (but erotic-fantasy-grade-hot) Regan, and sweet, loyal Cordelia—were mere girls. So naturally Pocket is at his brainless, elderly liege's side when Lear—at the insidious urging of Edmund, the bastard (in every way imaginable) son of the Earl of Gloucester—demands that his kids swear their undying love and devotion before a collection of assembled guests. Of course Goneril and Regan are only too happy to brownnose Dad. But Cordelia believes that her father's request is kind of . . . well . . . stupid, and her blunt honesty ends up costing her her rightful share of the kingdom and earns her a banishment to boot.
Well, now the bangers and mash have really hit the fan. The whole damn country's about to go to hell in a handbasket because of a stubborn old fart's wounded pride. And the only person who can possibly make things right . . . is Pocket, a small and slight clown with a biting sense of humor. He's already managed to sidestep catastrophe (and the vengeful blades of many an offended nobleman) on numerous occasions, using his razor-sharp mind, rapier wit . . . and the equally well-honed daggers he keeps conveniently hidden behind his back. Now he's going to have to do some very fancy maneuvering—cast some spells, incite a few assassinations, start a war or two (the usual stuff)—to get Cordelia back into Daddy Lear's good graces, to derail the fiendish power plays of Cordelia's twisted sisters, to rescue his gigantic, gigantically dim, and always randy friend and apprentice fool, Drool, from repeated beatings . . . and to shag every lusciously shaggable wench who's amenable to shagging along the way.
Pocket may be a fool . . . but he's definitely not an idiot.
Chris Moore is hit or miss for me. Fool is definitely a hit. Hysterical from start to finish, but not void of heart it is similar in that respect to Lamb. Although this is a retelling of Shakespeare’s King Lear, one doesn’t need to be familiar with the play to enjoy this story (although a basic knowledge of Shakespeare’s plays does help one spot the blending of an element from completely different plays). One does, however, need a healthy tolerance to toilet humor and blatant, unrepentant sex and a highly developed sense of the absurd. Having a potty mouth definitely helps, too. Without these you surely won’t make it past page one. Moore agrees and places a disclaimer at the front.
Pocket is King Lear’s fool and the teller of the tale. He reminds me of Biff in Lamb as he is hapless and lovable despite his flaws. The place of the fool in court is to amuse, but to also humble those normally untouchable. Only the fool can speak the truth to his betters and keep his head. Sometimes this is done through a puppet – a diminutive version of the fool himself. It is this license that allows Pocket to have a real insider’s view as to what’s happening in the castle. That and his perfect fucking French.
I won’t go into the whole plot, but it is mostly faithful to the play. Lear is elderly and decides (unwisely) to divide his kingdom among his three daughters in accordance to which loves him the most. Heinous fuckery ensues. Somewhere along the way the situation is likened to a chess board with the kings, knights and pawns. It is noted that there is no fool in chess. It is supposed that the fool are the players. How right they are. Pocket orchestrates much of the fuckery himself.
Downright raunchy, gratuitous in violence and rough in humor, Fool is great fun despite the essentially depressing and morally corrupt storyline. Lear is sympathetic, but not completely. The daughters Regan and Goneril are monsters. The changes Moore makes to the ending save it from the traditional pall which falls over the reader at the end, but are a bit soap-operaish. Also Moore’s blend of time saves it from torture. There are deliberate anachronisms throughout. I loved them. Particularly the invading Mazdas. Oh and the ancient and mysterious race of Mericans.
A word about the narrator, Euan Morton - he GETS Moore's writing and it shows. Also he has comic timing, understands inflection and doesn't get hung up trying to do too many voices. Without these things, Fool would have been a really boring audio book for sure. Great job.
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