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Adrian Mole #1
The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Aged 13 3/4
Adrian Mole's first love, Pandora, has left him; a neighbor, Mr. Lucas, appears to be seducing his mother (and what does that mean for his father?); the BBC refuses to publish his poetry; and his dog swallowed the tree off the Christmas cake. "Why" indeed.
272 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1982
About the author
Sue Townsend
86 books897 followersLibrarian Note: There is more than one author in the GoodReads database with this name. See this thread for more information.
Susan Lillian "Sue" Townsend was a British novelist, best known as the author of the Adrian Mole series of books. Her writing tended to combine comedy with social commentary, though she has written purely dramatic works as well. She suffered from diabetes for many years, as a result of which she was registered blind in 2001, and had woven this theme into her work.
Susan Lillian "Sue" Townsend was a British novelist, best known as the author of the Adrian Mole series of books. Her writing tended to combine comedy with social commentary, though she has written purely dramatic works as well. She suffered from diabetes for many years, as a result of which she was registered blind in 2001, and had woven this theme into her work.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 2,241 reviews
July 11, 2018
Hilariously incongruous! :) This kid is so disgusting that I loved it!
Q:
Anyway I think I’m turning into an intellectual. It must be all the worry. (c)
Q:
Eight days have gone by since Christmas Day but my mother still hasn’t worn the green lurex apron I bought her for Christmas! She will get bathcubes next year. (c)
Q:
I felt rotten today. It’s my mother’s fault for singing ‘My Way’ at two o’clock in the morning at the top of the stairs. Just my luck to have a mother like her. There is a chance my parents could be alcoholics. Next year I could be in a children’s home (c)
Q:
My father has got the flu. I’m not surprised with the diet we get. My mother went out in the rain to get him a vitamin C drink, but as I told her, ‘It’s too late now’. It’s a miracle we don’t get scurvy. (c)
Q:
Serve her right if she was murdered because of the dog. (c)
Q:
I will look up ‘Epiphany’ in my new dictionary. (c)
Q:
I found a word in my dictionary that describes my father. It is malingerer. He is still in bed guzzling vitamin C. (c)
Q:
It was cough, cough, cough last night. If it wasn’t one it was the other. You’d think they’d show some consideration after the hard day I’d had. (c)
Q:
My father is in a bad mood. This means he is feeling better. (c)
Q:
Now I know I am an intellectual. I saw Malcolm Muggeridge on the television last night, and I understood nearly every word. It all adds up. A bad home, poor diet, not liking punk. I think I will join the library and see what happens.
It is a pity there aren’t any more intellectuals living round here. (c)
Q:
I read a bit of Pride and Prejudice, but it was very old–fashioned. I think Jane Austen should write something a bit more modern. (c)
Q:
I lent Pandora my blue felt-tip pen to colour round the British Isles.
I think she appreciates these small attentions. (c)
Q:
My mother is looking for a job!
Now I could end up a delinquent roaming the streets and all that. And what will I do during the holidays? (c)
Q:
I think my mother is being very selfish. She won’t be any good in a job anyway. She isn’t very bright and she drinks too much at Christmas. (c)
Q:
I got an old man called Bert Baxter. He is eighty-nine so I don’t suppose I’ll have him for long. (c)
Q:
My mother has got an interview for a job. She is practising her typing and not doing any cooking. So what will it be like if she gets the job? My father should put his foot down before we are a broken home. (c)
Q:
Nigel’s parents haven’t got a car because his father’s got a steel plate in his head and his mother is only four feet eleven inches tall. It’s not surprising Nigel has turned out bad really, with a maniac and a midget for parents. (c)
Q:
Perhaps when I am famous and my diary is discovered people will understand the torment of being a 13¾-year-old undiscovered intellectual. (c)
Q:
6 PM Pandora! My lost love!
Now I will never stroke your treacle hair! (Although my blue felt-tip is still at your disposal.) (c)
Q:
My father looked pale when he came home from the vet’s, he kept saying ‘It’s money down the drain’, and he said that from now on the dog can only be fed on leftovers from his plate.
This means the dog will soon starve. (c)
Q:
I wish my parents would be a bit more thoughtful. I have been through an emotional time and I need my sleep. Still I don’t expect them to understand what it is like being in love. They have been married for fourteen-and-a-half years. (c)
Q:
I asked my mother if she would get home early from work tonight, I’m fed up with waiting for my tea. She didn’t. (c)
Q:
If I was the loneliest person in the world I wouldn’t phone up our school. I would ring the speaking clock; that talks to you every ten seconds. (c)
Q:
My mother is reading The Female Eunuch, by Ger-maine Greer. My mother says it is the sort of book that changes your life. It hasn’t changed mine, but I only glanced through it. It is full of dirty words. ...
I had my first wet dream! So my mother was right about The Female Eunuch. It has changed my life. (c)
Q:
My mother has not done any proper housework for days now. All she does is go to work, comfort Mr Lucas and read and smoke. The big-end has gone on my father’s car. I had to show him where to catch a bus into town. A man of forty not knowing where the bus stop is! (c)
Q:
Septuagesima (c)
Q:
My mother has gone to a woman’s workshop on assertiveness training. Men aren’t allowed. I asked my father what ‘assertiveness training’ is. He said ‘God knows, but whatever it is, it’s bad news for me’. (c)
Q:
'Things are very bad between me and Pauline, and all we are arguing over now is who doesn’t get custody of Adrian’. Surely my father made a mistake. He must have meant who did get custody of me. (c)
Q:
What will he do with all that money?
My mother says he will buy another bigger house. How stupid can you get?
If I had thirty thousand pounds I would wander the world having experiences.
...
When I came back from the world I would be tall, brown and full of ironical experiences and Pandora would cry into her pillow at night because of the chance she missed to be Mrs Pandora Mole. I would qualify to be a vet in record time then I would buy a farmhouse. I would convert one room into a study so that I could have somewhere quiet to be intellectual in. (c)
Q:
My parents are eating different things at different times, so I usually have six meals a day because I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. (c)
Q:
The television is in my room now because they couldn’t decide who it belongs to. I can lie in bed and watch the late-night horror. (c)
Q:
But I haven’t really got a friend any more, it must be because I’m an intellectual. I expect people are in awe of me. (c)
Q:
This weekend with Nigel has really opened my eyes! Without knowing it I have been living in poverty for the past fourteen years. I have had to put up withinferior accommodation, lousy food and paltry pocket money. If my father can’t provide a decent standard of living for me on his present salary, then he will just have to start looking for another job. (с)
Q:
Today is the day that Jesus escaped from the cave. I expect that Houdini got the idea from him. (c)
Q:
I asked Mr Vann which O levels you need to write situation comedy for television. Mr Vann said that you don’t need qualifications at all, you just need to be a moron. (c)
Q:
My father is in trouble for staying out late last night. Honestly! He is the same age as the milk jug so surely he can come in what time he likes! (c)
Q:
It is all round the school that an old lady of seventy-six frightened Barry Kent and his dad into returning my menaces money. Barry Kent daren’t show his face. His gang are electing a new leader. (c)
Q:
Finished last bell at 11.25 PM. Know just how Rembrandt must have felt after painting the Sistine Chapel in Venice. (c)
Q:
It was quite a shock to see Doreen Slater for the first time. Why my father wanted to have carnal knowledge of her I can’t imagine. She is as thin as a stick insect. She has got no bust and no bum. (c)
Q:
Maxwell started to cry, the dog started to bark, so I went back to my black room and counted howmany things were now showing through the paint: a hundred and seventeen! (c)
Q:
I was feeling rebellious, so I wore red socks. It is strictly forbidden but I don’t care any more. (c)
Q:
My father was in bed when I got home; he was having his impotence cured. (c)
Q:
Mrs Ball has got a daughter who is a writer. I asked her how her daughter qualified to be one. Mrs Ball said that her daughter was dropped on her head as a child and has been ‘a bit queer’ ever since. (c)
Q:
At 5 AM they decided to climb the mountain! I pointed out to them that they were blind drunk, too old, unqualified, unfit and lacking in any survival techniques, had no first-aid kit, weren’t wearing stout boots, and had no compass, map or sustaining hot drinks.
My protest fell on deaf ears. (c)
Q:
‘How do you think I feel living with a lesbian’s estranged husband?' (c)
Q:
Lucas fell in the burn (Scottish for ‘little river’) but unfortunately it was too shallow to drown in. (c)
Q:
Had a long talk with Mr Dock. I explained that I was a one-parent-family child with an unemployed, bad-tempered father. Mr Dock said he wouldn’t care if I was the offspring of a black, lesbian, one-legged mother and an Arab, leprous, hump-backed-dwarf father so long as my essays were lucid, intelligent and unpretentious. So much for pastoral care! (c)
Q:
It was on the news today that the British Museum is thinking of banning school parties. (c)
Q:
I disagree with Sakharov’s analysis of the causes of the revivalism of Stalinism. We are doing Russia at school so I speak from knowledge. (c)I have a feeling that whole countries have adopted exactly this entertaining but dumbass attitude recently.
Q:
I can’t understand why my father looks so old at forty-one compared to President Reagan at seventy. My father has got no work or worries yet he looks dead haggard. Poor President Reagan has to carry the world’s safety on his shoulders yet he is always smiling and looking cheerful. (c)
Q:
I am seriously thinking of giving everything up and running away to be a tramp. I would quite enjoy the life, providing I could have a daily bath. (c)
Q:
My mother reads anything; she is prostituting her literacy. (c)
Q:
I am reading How Children Fail, by John Holt. It is dead good. If I fail my O levels it will be all my parents’ fault. (c)
Q:
Anyway I think I’m turning into an intellectual. It must be all the worry. (c)
Q:
Eight days have gone by since Christmas Day but my mother still hasn’t worn the green lurex apron I bought her for Christmas! She will get bathcubes next year. (c)
Q:
I felt rotten today. It’s my mother’s fault for singing ‘My Way’ at two o’clock in the morning at the top of the stairs. Just my luck to have a mother like her. There is a chance my parents could be alcoholics. Next year I could be in a children’s home (c)
Q:
My father has got the flu. I’m not surprised with the diet we get. My mother went out in the rain to get him a vitamin C drink, but as I told her, ‘It’s too late now’. It’s a miracle we don’t get scurvy. (c)
Q:
Serve her right if she was murdered because of the dog. (c)
Q:
I will look up ‘Epiphany’ in my new dictionary. (c)
Q:
I found a word in my dictionary that describes my father. It is malingerer. He is still in bed guzzling vitamin C. (c)
Q:
It was cough, cough, cough last night. If it wasn’t one it was the other. You’d think they’d show some consideration after the hard day I’d had. (c)
Q:
My father is in a bad mood. This means he is feeling better. (c)
Q:
Now I know I am an intellectual. I saw Malcolm Muggeridge on the television last night, and I understood nearly every word. It all adds up. A bad home, poor diet, not liking punk. I think I will join the library and see what happens.
It is a pity there aren’t any more intellectuals living round here. (c)
Q:
I read a bit of Pride and Prejudice, but it was very old–fashioned. I think Jane Austen should write something a bit more modern. (c)
Q:
I lent Pandora my blue felt-tip pen to colour round the British Isles.
I think she appreciates these small attentions. (c)
Q:
My mother is looking for a job!
Now I could end up a delinquent roaming the streets and all that. And what will I do during the holidays? (c)
Q:
I think my mother is being very selfish. She won’t be any good in a job anyway. She isn’t very bright and she drinks too much at Christmas. (c)
Q:
I got an old man called Bert Baxter. He is eighty-nine so I don’t suppose I’ll have him for long. (c)
Q:
My mother has got an interview for a job. She is practising her typing and not doing any cooking. So what will it be like if she gets the job? My father should put his foot down before we are a broken home. (c)
Q:
Nigel’s parents haven’t got a car because his father’s got a steel plate in his head and his mother is only four feet eleven inches tall. It’s not surprising Nigel has turned out bad really, with a maniac and a midget for parents. (c)
Q:
Perhaps when I am famous and my diary is discovered people will understand the torment of being a 13¾-year-old undiscovered intellectual. (c)
Q:
6 PM Pandora! My lost love!
Now I will never stroke your treacle hair! (Although my blue felt-tip is still at your disposal.) (c)
Q:
My father looked pale when he came home from the vet’s, he kept saying ‘It’s money down the drain’, and he said that from now on the dog can only be fed on leftovers from his plate.
This means the dog will soon starve. (c)
Q:
I wish my parents would be a bit more thoughtful. I have been through an emotional time and I need my sleep. Still I don’t expect them to understand what it is like being in love. They have been married for fourteen-and-a-half years. (c)
Q:
I asked my mother if she would get home early from work tonight, I’m fed up with waiting for my tea. She didn’t. (c)
Q:
If I was the loneliest person in the world I wouldn’t phone up our school. I would ring the speaking clock; that talks to you every ten seconds. (c)
Q:
My mother is reading The Female Eunuch, by Ger-maine Greer. My mother says it is the sort of book that changes your life. It hasn’t changed mine, but I only glanced through it. It is full of dirty words. ...
I had my first wet dream! So my mother was right about The Female Eunuch. It has changed my life. (c)
Q:
My mother has not done any proper housework for days now. All she does is go to work, comfort Mr Lucas and read and smoke. The big-end has gone on my father’s car. I had to show him where to catch a bus into town. A man of forty not knowing where the bus stop is! (c)
Q:
Septuagesima (c)
Q:
My mother has gone to a woman’s workshop on assertiveness training. Men aren’t allowed. I asked my father what ‘assertiveness training’ is. He said ‘God knows, but whatever it is, it’s bad news for me’. (c)
Q:
'Things are very bad between me and Pauline, and all we are arguing over now is who doesn’t get custody of Adrian’. Surely my father made a mistake. He must have meant who did get custody of me. (c)
Q:
What will he do with all that money?
My mother says he will buy another bigger house. How stupid can you get?
If I had thirty thousand pounds I would wander the world having experiences.
...
When I came back from the world I would be tall, brown and full of ironical experiences and Pandora would cry into her pillow at night because of the chance she missed to be Mrs Pandora Mole. I would qualify to be a vet in record time then I would buy a farmhouse. I would convert one room into a study so that I could have somewhere quiet to be intellectual in. (c)
Q:
My parents are eating different things at different times, so I usually have six meals a day because I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. (c)
Q:
The television is in my room now because they couldn’t decide who it belongs to. I can lie in bed and watch the late-night horror. (c)
Q:
But I haven’t really got a friend any more, it must be because I’m an intellectual. I expect people are in awe of me. (c)
Q:
This weekend with Nigel has really opened my eyes! Without knowing it I have been living in poverty for the past fourteen years. I have had to put up withinferior accommodation, lousy food and paltry pocket money. If my father can’t provide a decent standard of living for me on his present salary, then he will just have to start looking for another job. (с)
Q:
Today is the day that Jesus escaped from the cave. I expect that Houdini got the idea from him. (c)
Q:
I asked Mr Vann which O levels you need to write situation comedy for television. Mr Vann said that you don’t need qualifications at all, you just need to be a moron. (c)
Q:
My father is in trouble for staying out late last night. Honestly! He is the same age as the milk jug so surely he can come in what time he likes! (c)
Q:
It is all round the school that an old lady of seventy-six frightened Barry Kent and his dad into returning my menaces money. Barry Kent daren’t show his face. His gang are electing a new leader. (c)
Q:
Finished last bell at 11.25 PM. Know just how Rembrandt must have felt after painting the Sistine Chapel in Venice. (c)
Q:
It was quite a shock to see Doreen Slater for the first time. Why my father wanted to have carnal knowledge of her I can’t imagine. She is as thin as a stick insect. She has got no bust and no bum. (c)
Q:
Maxwell started to cry, the dog started to bark, so I went back to my black room and counted howmany things were now showing through the paint: a hundred and seventeen! (c)
Q:
I was feeling rebellious, so I wore red socks. It is strictly forbidden but I don’t care any more. (c)
Q:
My father was in bed when I got home; he was having his impotence cured. (c)
Q:
Mrs Ball has got a daughter who is a writer. I asked her how her daughter qualified to be one. Mrs Ball said that her daughter was dropped on her head as a child and has been ‘a bit queer’ ever since. (c)
Q:
At 5 AM they decided to climb the mountain! I pointed out to them that they were blind drunk, too old, unqualified, unfit and lacking in any survival techniques, had no first-aid kit, weren’t wearing stout boots, and had no compass, map or sustaining hot drinks.
My protest fell on deaf ears. (c)
Q:
‘How do you think I feel living with a lesbian’s estranged husband?' (c)
Q:
Lucas fell in the burn (Scottish for ‘little river’) but unfortunately it was too shallow to drown in. (c)
Q:
Had a long talk with Mr Dock. I explained that I was a one-parent-family child with an unemployed, bad-tempered father. Mr Dock said he wouldn’t care if I was the offspring of a black, lesbian, one-legged mother and an Arab, leprous, hump-backed-dwarf father so long as my essays were lucid, intelligent and unpretentious. So much for pastoral care! (c)
Q:
It was on the news today that the British Museum is thinking of banning school parties. (c)
Q:
I disagree with Sakharov’s analysis of the causes of the revivalism of Stalinism. We are doing Russia at school so I speak from knowledge. (c)I have a feeling that whole countries have adopted exactly this entertaining but dumbass attitude recently.
Q:
I can’t understand why my father looks so old at forty-one compared to President Reagan at seventy. My father has got no work or worries yet he looks dead haggard. Poor President Reagan has to carry the world’s safety on his shoulders yet he is always smiling and looking cheerful. (c)
Q:
I am seriously thinking of giving everything up and running away to be a tramp. I would quite enjoy the life, providing I could have a daily bath. (c)
Q:
My mother reads anything; she is prostituting her literacy. (c)
Q:
I am reading How Children Fail, by John Holt. It is dead good. If I fail my O levels it will be all my parents’ fault. (c)
August 20, 2019
The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Aged 13 3/4 (Adrian Mole, #1), Sue Townsend
The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Aged 13¾ is the first book in the Adrian Mole series of comedic fiction, written by Sue Townsend. The book is written in a diary style, and focuses on the worries and regrets of a teenager who believes himself to be an intellectual. The story is set in 1981 and 1982, and in the background it refers to some of the historic world events of the time, such as the Falklands War and the wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Diana as well as the birth of Prince William. Mole is a fierce critic of prime minister Margaret Thatcher, listing her as one of his worst enemies.
تاریخ نخستین خوانش: روز نوزدهم ماه آگوست سال 2010 میلادی
عنوان: خاطرات سری آدریان (آدرین) مول؛ نویسنده: سو تاونسند؛ مترجم: محمدجواد فیروزی؛ تهران: نگاه٬ 1388؛ در 284 ص؛ شابک: 9789643515652؛ موضوع: داستانهای نوجوانان از نویسندگان بریتانیایی - سده 20 م
بسیاری بر این باور هستند که کتاب «خاطرات سری آدریــــن مول»ـ پرفروشترین کتاب سال 1982 میلادی، توانسته است در میان ادبیات کلاسیک جهان برای خود جایگاه مناسبی باز کند. کسانیکه از سر تفنن این کتاب را خواندند، از شیرینی آن خندیدند و آنهایی که واقع بین تر بودند، گریستند. این کتاب باورها و دیدگاههای نوجوانی را به تصویر میکشد که به گمان خود یک روشنفکر ناشناخته است و کسی او را درک نمیکند. نقل از متن: «پنج شنبه اول ژانویه»: روز تعطیلی بانکها در انگلستان، ایرلند، اسکاتلند و ولز؛ تصمیم دارم در سال نو: یک: به نابیناها در عبور از چهارراه ها کمک کنم. دو: شلوارم را بازنشسته کنم. سه: صفحات گرامافونم را توی جلدشان بگذارم. چهار: سیگاری نشوم. ؛ پنج: جوشهای صورتم را دستمالی نکنم. شش: به سگمان روی خوش نشان بدهم. هفت: به بیچاره ها و بیسوادها کمک کنم. هشت: بعد از شنیدن آن سر و صداهای نفرت انگیز دیشب از طبقه پایین، عهد کرده ام که تا عمر دارم لب به مشروب نزنم. بابام در میهمانی دیشت به سگمان عرق داد و او را مست و پاتیل کرد. اگر انجمن سلطنتی حمایت از حیوانات از این جریان بو میبرد جای بابام بی برو و برگرد توی هلفدونی بود. هشت روز از کریسمس میگذرد، اما مامان هنوز پیشبند پر زرق و برقی را که به عنوان هدیه کریسمس برایش خریده ام نپوشیده است! برای کریسمس سال دیگر یک حوله حمام برایش در نظر گرفته ام. تف به این شانس، درست روز اول سال باید روی چانه من یک جوش بزنه؟! «جمعه دوم ژانویه»: روز تعطیلی بانکها در اسکاتلند. بدر کامل است. امروز سگ خـُـلقم. تقصیر مامانه که ساعت دو بعد از نصف شب توی پله ها آواز خواندنش گرفته بود. این هم از بدبختی منه که یک اینطور مامانی دارم. اگه شانس بیارم و بابا و مامانم الکلی بشوند، سال دیگه میبرنم به خانه بچه های بی سرپرست. چیزی حالیش نیست. «شنبه سوم ژانویه»: از بیخوابی دارم دیوانه میشوم! بابام زد سگ را از خانه بیرون کرد و او هم پشت پنجره من ایستاد و تمام شب پارس کرد. تف به این شانس! بابام با صدای بلند بهش فحش داد. این آقا اگر دست از این کارهایش برندارد، پلیس به خاطر حرفهای رکیک بی برو و برگرد جلبش خواهد کرد. گمان میکنم که جوش توی صورتم یک کورک باشد. مرده شورِ این شانس مرا ببرند، درست جایی زده که تو چشم همه است. به مامان گوشزد کردم که امروز ویتامین سی نخورده ام. گفت:«برو واسه خودت یک پرتغال بخر و بخور». همیشه همینطوره. مامانم هنوز آن پیشبنـد زرق و برقدار را نپوشیده است. چقدر دلم میخواهد که دوباره مدرسه ها باز میشدند. «یکشنبه چهارم ژانویه»: بابام آنفلوانزا گرفته. با این رژیم غذایی ای که ما داریم، گرفتن آنفلوانزا که هیچ، گرفتن سرطان هم تعجبی ندارد. مامانم توی باران از خانه بیرون زد تا برایش شربت ویتامین سی بخرد، اما من بهش گفتم، «دیروقته الان». معجزه است که ما به خاطر کمبود ویتامین سی خونمان فاسد نمیشود. مامانم میگوید که چیزی روی چانه ام ��میبیند، اما این هم تقصیر رژیم غذاییمان است. چون مامانم یادش رفته بود درِ حیاط را ببندد، سگمان از فرصت استفاده کرده و زده به چاک. دسته گرامافون را شکسته ام. هنوز کسی از این جریان بویی ��برده است. خدا کند شانس بیاورم و بیماری بابام طولانیتر بشود. به جز من، او تنها کسی است که از آن گرامافون استفاده میکند. از پیشبند خبری نیست. «دوشنبه پنجم ژانویه»: سگمان هنوز برنگشته. خانه بدون او کاملا در صلح و آرامش است. مامانم به پلیس زنگ زد و مشخصاتش را به آنها داد. مامانم در توصیف سگ خیلی غلو کرد: موهای ژولیده پرپشتی دارد که روی چشمهایش را پوشانده است و از همین دست اراجیفها. فکر میکنم پلیسها کارهای مهمتراز جستجوی سگهای فراری دارند؛ مثلاً دستگیری قاتلین. این موضوع را به مامان گوشزد کردم، اما مگر ول کن بود، از زنگ زدن دست برنمیداشت. اگه به خاطر آن سگ، به قتل هم که برسه حقشه. بابام هنوز از رختخواب دل نکنده. مثلاً مریضه، اما متوجه شدم که هنوز سیگار میکشه! نیجل امروز آمد اینجا. در تعطیلات کریسمس پوستش برنزه شده. فکر میکنم که از سرمای ناگهانی انگلستان توی رختخواب بیفته و بستری بشه. به گمانم بابا و مامانش اشتباه کردند که او را به خارج از کشور بردند. هنوز یک دانه جوش توی صورت این پسر پیدا نشده. «سه شنبه ششم ژانویه»: اپیفانی. ماه نو جناب سگ توی دردسر افتاده! امروز پرید روی سر و کله یک کنتورخوان و او را از روی دوچرخه اش پایین انداخت و تمام دفتر و دستکش را درب و داغان کرد. حتماً به خاطر این کار ما را دادگاهی خواهند کرد. یک پلیس به ما گوشزد کرد که باید او را مهار کنیم و بعد پرسید که: چند وقت است که این حیوان چلاق شده؟ مامانم گفت که: او هیچوقت خدا چلاق نبوده و آنوقت زیر و رو و بالا و پایین او را معاینه کرد. یک دزد دریایی کوچک، لای پنجه جلویی سمت چپش گیر کرده بود. وقتی مامان دزد دریایی را از لای پنجه اش بیرون کشید، سگ بیچاره از خوشحالی با پاهای گل آلود پرید روی اونیفورم آن پلیس، و پیراهن نظامی اش را به گند کشید. مامان رفت و یک تکه پارچه از آشپزخانه آورد، اما این همان پارچه ای بود، که من با آن کارد آلوده به مربای توت فرنگی را پاک کرده بودم، بنابراین وضعیت اونیفورم آن پلیس از آنچه که بود بدتر شد. بعد آقای پلیس راهش را کشید و رفت. شکی ندارم که زیر لب فحش بارانمان کرد و رفت. میتوانستم به خاطر این جریان گزارشش کنم. میخواهم در واژه نامه جدیدم دنبال کلمه «اپیفانی» بگردم. «چهارشنبه هفتم ژانویه»: امروز صبح نیجل با دوچرخه نویش آمد اینجا. دوچرخه اش، قمقمه آب، کیلومتر شمار، سرعت سنج، یک زین زرد رنگ، و چرخ های بسیار نقلی مسابقه ای دارد. حیف چنین دوچرخه ای که زیر پای این پسر است. فقط با آن تا فروشگاه میرود و برمیگردد. اگر مال من بود، باهاش تمام حومه را زیر پا میگذاشتم و کسب تجربه میکردم. جوش یا کورکم، هرچه که هست، دیگر به اوج خودش رسیده. یقیناً از این بزرگتر نمیتواند بشود! توی واژه نامه ام به یک کلمه برخورد کرده ام که درست توصیف کننده وضعیت بابام هست. کلمه تمارض. او هنوز توی رختخواب است و حریصانه ویتامین سی میلمباند. سگ را توی انبارِ زغال زندانی کرده ایم. اپیفانی چیزی است در ارتباط با سه مرد عاقل. بگیر منو، کی میره این همه راه! «پنج شنبه هشتم ژانویه»: حالا نوبت آنفولانزا گرفتنِ مامانه. این یعنی اینکه من باید از هر دوی آنها مراقبت کنم. تف به این شانس! تمام روز از پله ها بالا و پایین کرده ام. برای امشبشان یک شام مفصل پخته ام: دو تا تخم مرغ آب پز با لوبیا، و پودینگ کنسرو شده. (چقدر خوب شد که آن پیشبند زرق و برقدار سبز رنگ را پوشیده بودم، آخر تخم مرغی را که آب پز میکردم از توی ماهیتابه در رفت و سرتا پایم تخم مرغی شد.) وقتی دیدم به غذا دست نزده اند نزدیک بود یک چیزی بهشان بگویم. خودشان را زده اند به مریض بازی، هیچ چیزشان نیست. غذا را بردم گذاشتم توی انبار زغال برای سگه. مامان بزرگ فردا صبح میآید اینجا، بنابراین مجبور شدم ماهیتابه ته گرفته را تمیز کنم و بعد سگ را هم به گردش ببرم. ساعت یازده و نیم بود که فرصت خوابیدن پیدا کردم. پس بگو چرا قَـدم نسبت به سـِـنم کوتاه مانده است. اصلاً حاضر نیستم برای گذران زندگی شغل طبابت را پیشه کنم. «جمعه نهم ژانویه»: دیشب توی خانه یکریز صدای سرفه میآمد. همین که یکی سرفه اش تمام میشد دیگری شروع میکرد. انگار که داشتند پاداش روز سختی را که پشت سر گذاشته بودم میدادند. مامان بزرگ آمد و از وضعیت نامرتب خانه نزدیک بود حالش به هم بخورد. اتاق خودم را که همیشه تر و تمیز و مرتب است نشانش دادم و او هم پنجاه پنس جایزه ام داد. تمام بطری خالیهای توی سطل آشغال را نشانش دادم و از دیدن آنها حسابی تو لب رفت. مامان بزرگ، سگه را از توی انبار زغال بیرون آورد و آزادش کرد. گفت که مادرم چقدر بیرحمه که او را زندانی کرده. سگه کف آشپزخانه حالش به هم خورد و بالا آورد. مامان بزرگ هم دوباره او را زندانی کرد. مامان بزرگ جوش توی صورتم را فشار داد. بد از بدترش کرد. قضیه پیشبند سبز رنگ را برایش تعریف کردم و او هم سرِ درد دلش باز شد و گفت که چطور هر سال به عنوان هدیه کریسمس، برای مامانم یک ژاکت پشمی کشباف از جنس اکریل میخریده و او هیچوقت نشده که حتی یکی از آنها را بپوشد! «شنبه دهم ژانویه»: صبح: سگمان مریض شده! چون بیماریش بیخ پیدا کرد، مجبور شدیم دامپزشک خبر کنیم. بابام بِهم گفت که مبادا جریان دو روز زندانی شدن او را در انبار زغال به دامپزشک لو بدهم. یک چسب زخم روی جوشم گذاشته ام تا جلوی ورود میکربهایی که از سگمان منتقل شده است بگیرم. دامپزشک سگ را با خودش برد. گفت که فکر میکند چیزی راه مقعدش را مسدود کرده و فورا باید جراحی شود. مامان بزرگ و مامانم بـَحثشان شد. مامان بزرگ قهر کرد و رفت خانه خودش. او تکه پاره ژاکتهایی را که به عنوان هدیه کریسمس برای مامانم خریده بود، توی گنجه دستگیره ها پیدا کرد. گرسنگی چقدر نفرت انگیز است. آقای لوکاس، همسایه دیوار به دیوارمان، برای عیادت از مامان و بابام که هنوز توی رختخواب افتاده اند، آمد خانه ما. یک کارت «انشاالله هرچه زودتر خوب شوید» و چند شاخه گل آورد برای مامانم. او با آقای لوکاس گرم گرفت و با خنده و شوخی صحبت کرد. بابام خودش را زده بود به خواب. نیجل صفحات گرامافونش را آورد اینجا و نشانم داد. این پسر تازگی به موسیقی پانکها علاقمند شده، اما من توی این موضوع مانده ام که چطور میشود به موسیقی ای که کلماتش قابل درک نیست گوش کرد؟ احساس میکنم که دارم یک روشنفکر میشوم. علتش باید همین نگرانیها باشد. بعد از ظهر: رفتم سری به سگ زدم. جراحی اش کرده بودند. دامپزشک، یک کیسه پلاستیک پر از آت آشغال نشانم داد. توی کیسه، یک تکه زغال سنگ، درخت کاجِ روی کیک کریسمس و دزدان دریایی کشتی بابام بود. یکی از دزدهای دریایی شمشیری در هوا تکان میداد که احتمالا برای آن سگ بیچاره باید خیلی دردآور بوده باشد. حال سگه خیلی بهتر شده. دو روز دیگه برمیگرده خانه، مرده شور شانس ما را ببرند. وقتی به خانه رسیدم دیدم که بابام با مامان بزرگ، بر سر بطری خالیهای توی سطل آشغال، تلفنی دعوایشان است. آقای لوکاس در طبقه بالا با مامانم گرمِ صحبت بود. بعد از رفتن آقای لوکاس، بابام رفت طبقه بالا و با مامانم یک دعوای جانانه کرد و گریه اش را درآورد. بابام حسابی برزخ است. این یعنی اینکه از مریضی جسته و روبراه شده است. برای مامانم بی آنکه ازش بپرسم یک فنجان چای دم کردم. چای هم گریه اش را بند نیاورد. بعضی آدمها را نمیشود به این راحتیها را��ی کرد! جوش صورتم هنوز سرجایش است.»؛ پایان نقل از متن. ا. شربیانی
The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Aged 13¾ is the first book in the Adrian Mole series of comedic fiction, written by Sue Townsend. The book is written in a diary style, and focuses on the worries and regrets of a teenager who believes himself to be an intellectual. The story is set in 1981 and 1982, and in the background it refers to some of the historic world events of the time, such as the Falklands War and the wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Diana as well as the birth of Prince William. Mole is a fierce critic of prime minister Margaret Thatcher, listing her as one of his worst enemies.
تاریخ نخستین خوانش: روز نوزدهم ماه آگوست سال 2010 میلادی
عنوان: خاطرات سری آدریان (آدرین) مول؛ نویسنده: سو تاونسند؛ مترجم: محمدجواد فیروزی؛ تهران: نگاه٬ 1388؛ در 284 ص؛ شابک: 9789643515652؛ موضوع: داستانهای نوجوانان از نویسندگان بریتانیایی - سده 20 م
بسیاری بر این باور هستند که کتاب «خاطرات سری آدریــــن مول»ـ پرفروشترین کتاب سال 1982 میلادی، توانسته است در میان ادبیات کلاسیک جهان برای خود جایگاه مناسبی باز کند. کسانیکه از سر تفنن این کتاب را خواندند، از شیرینی آن خندیدند و آنهایی که واقع بین تر بودند، گریستند. این کتاب باورها و دیدگاههای نوجوانی را به تصویر میکشد که به گمان خود یک روشنفکر ناشناخته است و کسی او را درک نمیکند. نقل از متن: «پنج شنبه اول ژانویه»: روز تعطیلی بانکها در انگلستان، ایرلند، اسکاتلند و ولز؛ تصمیم دارم در سال نو: یک: به نابیناها در عبور از چهارراه ها کمک کنم. دو: شلوارم را بازنشسته کنم. سه: صفحات گرامافونم را توی جلدشان بگذارم. چهار: سیگاری نشوم. ؛ پنج: جوشهای صورتم را دستمالی نکنم. شش: به سگمان روی خوش نشان بدهم. هفت: به بیچاره ها و بیسوادها کمک کنم. هشت: بعد از شنیدن آن سر و صداهای نفرت انگیز دیشب از طبقه پایین، عهد کرده ام که تا عمر دارم لب به مشروب نزنم. بابام در میهمانی دیشت به سگمان عرق داد و او را مست و پاتیل کرد. اگر انجمن سلطنتی حمایت از حیوانات از این جریان بو میبرد جای بابام بی برو و برگرد توی هلفدونی بود. هشت روز از کریسمس میگذرد، اما مامان هنوز پیشبند پر زرق و برقی را که به عنوان هدیه کریسمس برایش خریده ام نپوشیده است! برای کریسمس سال دیگر یک حوله حمام برایش در نظر گرفته ام. تف به این شانس، درست روز اول سال باید روی چانه من یک جوش بزنه؟! «جمعه دوم ژانویه»: روز تعطیلی بانکها در اسکاتلند. بدر کامل است. امروز سگ خـُـلقم. تقصیر مامانه که ساعت دو بعد از نصف شب توی پله ها آواز خواندنش گرفته بود. این هم از بدبختی منه که یک اینطور مامانی دارم. اگه شانس بیارم و بابا و مامانم الکلی بشوند، سال دیگه میبرنم به خانه بچه های بی سرپرست. چیزی حالیش نیست. «شنبه سوم ژانویه»: از بیخوابی دارم دیوانه میشوم! بابام زد سگ را از خانه بیرون کرد و او هم پشت پنجره من ایستاد و تمام شب پارس کرد. تف به این شانس! بابام با صدای بلند بهش فحش داد. این آقا اگر دست از این کارهایش برندارد، پلیس به خاطر حرفهای رکیک بی برو و برگرد جلبش خواهد کرد. گمان میکنم که جوش توی صورتم یک کورک باشد. مرده شورِ این شانس مرا ببرند، درست جایی زده که تو چشم همه است. به مامان گوشزد کردم که امروز ویتامین سی نخورده ام. گفت:«برو واسه خودت یک پرتغال بخر و بخور». همیشه همینطوره. مامانم هنوز آن پیشبنـد زرق و برقدار را نپوشیده است. چقدر دلم میخواهد که دوباره مدرسه ها باز میشدند. «یکشنبه چهارم ژانویه»: بابام آنفلوانزا گرفته. با این رژیم غذایی ای که ما داریم، گرفتن آنفلوانزا که هیچ، گرفتن سرطان هم تعجبی ندارد. مامانم توی باران از خانه بیرون زد تا برایش شربت ویتامین سی بخرد، اما من بهش گفتم، «دیروقته الان». معجزه است که ما به خاطر کمبود ویتامین سی خونمان فاسد نمیشود. مامانم میگوید که چیزی روی چانه ام ��میبیند، اما این هم تقصیر رژیم غذاییمان است. چون مامانم یادش رفته بود درِ حیاط را ببندد، سگمان از فرصت استفاده کرده و زده به چاک. دسته گرامافون را شکسته ام. هنوز کسی از این جریان بویی ��برده است. خدا کند شانس بیاورم و بیماری بابام طولانیتر بشود. به جز من، او تنها کسی است که از آن گرامافون استفاده میکند. از پیشبند خبری نیست. «دوشنبه پنجم ژانویه»: سگمان هنوز برنگشته. خانه بدون او کاملا در صلح و آرامش است. مامانم به پلیس زنگ زد و مشخصاتش را به آنها داد. مامانم در توصیف سگ خیلی غلو کرد: موهای ژولیده پرپشتی دارد که روی چشمهایش را پوشانده است و از همین دست اراجیفها. فکر میکنم پلیسها کارهای مهمتراز جستجوی سگهای فراری دارند؛ مثلاً دستگیری قاتلین. این موضوع را به مامان گوشزد کردم، اما مگر ول کن بود، از زنگ زدن دست برنمیداشت. اگه به خاطر آن سگ، به قتل هم که برسه حقشه. بابام هنوز از رختخواب دل نکنده. مثلاً مریضه، اما متوجه شدم که هنوز سیگار میکشه! نیجل امروز آمد اینجا. در تعطیلات کریسمس پوستش برنزه شده. فکر میکنم که از سرمای ناگهانی انگلستان توی رختخواب بیفته و بستری بشه. به گمانم بابا و مامانش اشتباه کردند که او را به خارج از کشور بردند. هنوز یک دانه جوش توی صورت این پسر پیدا نشده. «سه شنبه ششم ژانویه»: اپیفانی. ماه نو جناب سگ توی دردسر افتاده! امروز پرید روی سر و کله یک کنتورخوان و او را از روی دوچرخه اش پایین انداخت و تمام دفتر و دستکش را درب و داغان کرد. حتماً به خاطر این کار ما را دادگاهی خواهند کرد. یک پلیس به ما گوشزد کرد که باید او را مهار کنیم و بعد پرسید که: چند وقت است که این حیوان چلاق شده؟ مامانم گفت که: او هیچوقت خدا چلاق نبوده و آنوقت زیر و رو و بالا و پایین او را معاینه کرد. یک دزد دریایی کوچک، لای پنجه جلویی سمت چپش گیر کرده بود. وقتی مامان دزد دریایی را از لای پنجه اش بیرون کشید، سگ بیچاره از خوشحالی با پاهای گل آلود پرید روی اونیفورم آن پلیس، و پیراهن نظامی اش را به گند کشید. مامان رفت و یک تکه پارچه از آشپزخانه آورد، اما این همان پارچه ای بود، که من با آن کارد آلوده به مربای توت فرنگی را پاک کرده بودم، بنابراین وضعیت اونیفورم آن پلیس از آنچه که بود بدتر شد. بعد آقای پلیس راهش را کشید و رفت. شکی ندارم که زیر لب فحش بارانمان کرد و رفت. میتوانستم به خاطر این جریان گزارشش کنم. میخواهم در واژه نامه جدیدم دنبال کلمه «اپیفانی» بگردم. «چهارشنبه هفتم ژانویه»: امروز صبح نیجل با دوچرخه نویش آمد اینجا. دوچرخه اش، قمقمه آب، کیلومتر شمار، سرعت سنج، یک زین زرد رنگ، و چرخ های بسیار نقلی مسابقه ای دارد. حیف چنین دوچرخه ای که زیر پای این پسر است. فقط با آن تا فروشگاه میرود و برمیگردد. اگر مال من بود، باهاش تمام حومه را زیر پا میگذاشتم و کسب تجربه میکردم. جوش یا کورکم، هرچه که هست، دیگر به اوج خودش رسیده. یقیناً از این بزرگتر نمیتواند بشود! توی واژه نامه ام به یک کلمه برخورد کرده ام که درست توصیف کننده وضعیت بابام هست. کلمه تمارض. او هنوز توی رختخواب است و حریصانه ویتامین سی میلمباند. سگ را توی انبارِ زغال زندانی کرده ایم. اپیفانی چیزی است در ارتباط با سه مرد عاقل. بگیر منو، کی میره این همه راه! «پنج شنبه هشتم ژانویه»: حالا نوبت آنفولانزا گرفتنِ مامانه. این یعنی اینکه من باید از هر دوی آنها مراقبت کنم. تف به این شانس! تمام روز از پله ها بالا و پایین کرده ام. برای امشبشان یک شام مفصل پخته ام: دو تا تخم مرغ آب پز با لوبیا، و پودینگ کنسرو شده. (چقدر خوب شد که آن پیشبند زرق و برقدار سبز رنگ را پوشیده بودم، آخر تخم مرغی را که آب پز میکردم از توی ماهیتابه در رفت و سرتا پایم تخم مرغی شد.) وقتی دیدم به غذا دست نزده اند نزدیک بود یک چیزی بهشان بگویم. خودشان را زده اند به مریض بازی، هیچ چیزشان نیست. غذا را بردم گذاشتم توی انبار زغال برای سگه. مامان بزرگ فردا صبح میآید اینجا، بنابراین مجبور شدم ماهیتابه ته گرفته را تمیز کنم و بعد سگ را هم به گردش ببرم. ساعت یازده و نیم بود که فرصت خوابیدن پیدا کردم. پس بگو چرا قَـدم نسبت به سـِـنم کوتاه مانده است. اصلاً حاضر نیستم برای گذران زندگی شغل طبابت را پیشه کنم. «جمعه نهم ژانویه»: دیشب توی خانه یکریز صدای سرفه میآمد. همین که یکی سرفه اش تمام میشد دیگری شروع میکرد. انگار که داشتند پاداش روز سختی را که پشت سر گذاشته بودم میدادند. مامان بزرگ آمد و از وضعیت نامرتب خانه نزدیک بود حالش به هم بخورد. اتاق خودم را که همیشه تر و تمیز و مرتب است نشانش دادم و او هم پنجاه پنس جایزه ام داد. تمام بطری خالیهای توی سطل آشغال را نشانش دادم و از دیدن آنها حسابی تو لب رفت. مامان بزرگ، سگه را از توی انبار زغال بیرون آورد و آزادش کرد. گفت که مادرم چقدر بیرحمه که او را زندانی کرده. سگه کف آشپزخانه حالش به هم خورد و بالا آورد. مامان بزرگ هم دوباره او را زندانی کرد. مامان بزرگ جوش توی صورتم را فشار داد. بد از بدترش کرد. قضیه پیشبند سبز رنگ را برایش تعریف کردم و او هم سرِ درد دلش باز شد و گفت که چطور هر سال به عنوان هدیه کریسمس، برای مامانم یک ژاکت پشمی کشباف از جنس اکریل میخریده و او هیچوقت نشده که حتی یکی از آنها را بپوشد! «شنبه دهم ژانویه»: صبح: سگمان مریض شده! چون بیماریش بیخ پیدا کرد، مجبور شدیم دامپزشک خبر کنیم. بابام بِهم گفت که مبادا جریان دو روز زندانی شدن او را در انبار زغال به دامپزشک لو بدهم. یک چسب زخم روی جوشم گذاشته ام تا جلوی ورود میکربهایی که از سگمان منتقل شده است بگیرم. دامپزشک سگ را با خودش برد. گفت که فکر میکند چیزی راه مقعدش را مسدود کرده و فورا باید جراحی شود. مامان بزرگ و مامانم بـَحثشان شد. مامان بزرگ قهر کرد و رفت خانه خودش. او تکه پاره ژاکتهایی را که به عنوان هدیه کریسمس برای مامانم خریده بود، توی گنجه دستگیره ها پیدا کرد. گرسنگی چقدر نفرت انگیز است. آقای لوکاس، همسایه دیوار به دیوارمان، برای عیادت از مامان و بابام که هنوز توی رختخواب افتاده اند، آمد خانه ما. یک کارت «انشاالله هرچه زودتر خوب شوید» و چند شاخه گل آورد برای مامانم. او با آقای لوکاس گرم گرفت و با خنده و شوخی صحبت کرد. بابام خودش را زده بود به خواب. نیجل صفحات گرامافونش را آورد اینجا و نشانم داد. این پسر تازگی به موسیقی پانکها علاقمند شده، اما من توی این موضوع مانده ام که چطور میشود به موسیقی ای که کلماتش قابل درک نیست گوش کرد؟ احساس میکنم که دارم یک روشنفکر میشوم. علتش باید همین نگرانیها باشد. بعد از ظهر: رفتم سری به سگ زدم. جراحی اش کرده بودند. دامپزشک، یک کیسه پلاستیک پر از آت آشغال نشانم داد. توی کیسه، یک تکه زغال سنگ، درخت کاجِ روی کیک کریسمس و دزدان دریایی کشتی بابام بود. یکی از دزدهای دریایی شمشیری در هوا تکان میداد که احتمالا برای آن سگ بیچاره باید خیلی دردآور بوده باشد. حال سگه خیلی بهتر شده. دو روز دیگه برمیگرده خانه، مرده شور شانس ما را ببرند. وقتی به خانه رسیدم دیدم که بابام با مامان بزرگ، بر سر بطری خالیهای توی سطل آشغال، تلفنی دعوایشان است. آقای لوکاس در طبقه بالا با مامانم گرمِ صحبت بود. بعد از رفتن آقای لوکاس، بابام رفت طبقه بالا و با مامانم یک دعوای جانانه کرد و گریه اش را درآورد. بابام حسابی برزخ است. این یعنی اینکه از مریضی جسته و روبراه شده است. برای مامانم بی آنکه ازش بپرسم یک فنجان چای دم کردم. چای هم گریه اش را بند نیاورد. بعضی آدمها را نمیشود به این راحتیها را��ی کرد! جوش صورتم هنوز سرجایش است.»؛ پایان نقل از متن. ا. شربیانی
November 1, 2012
1 dead star.
Yes, I hate this book so much, I killed its sole, lonely star.
As this was a school assigned book, I have written a much more formal review from an objective point of view for my English class. I also wrote a review purely for me, from a very subjective point of view. Feel free to just read the objective one but if you want to see how bad the book was for me, personally, read to the end.
Without further ado...
The Objective Review:
From an objective point of view, The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole Aged 13 ¾ wasn’t half bad.
Adrian Mole is your average, English, teenage boy living in the 80’s. As he goes through puberty, he must struggle with conflicting emotions, parent troubles, pimples, and first love. I would have preferred the diary to be on a more interesting character and lifestyle but that is just my personal preference.
This book is told from Adrian Mole’s point of view, in a series of diary entries. The mundane, everyday updates could provide many points for the reader to relate to.
Adrian is, quite frankly, an ungrateful, arrogant kid, but in the underlying messages, you can tell he does have an understanding of love. The things his family goes through would be pretty tough for a teenager who also has his own internal problems. I did not like him very much, as some of the things he said were pretty insulting. Teenage boys will probably find traits they can relate to, but, as I am a girl, I did not find any.
The supporting characters include Pandora, Adrian’s love interest, Adrian’s father, mother, grandmother, and an old man name Bert Baxter. He had one of the more interesting stories but he was not a main focus of the novel.
The plot was not very well done. I understand that it is meant to have a very natural, raw feel to it, being a diary of a teenage boy, but I felt that it was very random and disjointed. The events had no order to them, which I find really annoying as I like things to be organized. There was no climax, even in the background themes. It was a sequence of mundane events with no big event to tie everything together. The ending was so abrupt, I thought the author just wrote the whole book series at once, and told the publisher to chop it wherever they needed to make them into perfectly identical books.
There was also very minimal character development. Adrian has the same personality at the end as he has at the start.
The writing style was also very jerky. As it is from Adrian’s hand, it is explainable. I just did not like it. I have always been a fan of the fluent, lyrical, poetic prose, so this amateurish, jerky writing was not to my taste.
In the visual department, the cover is very boring. There is nothing to really suggest the story or Adrian’s personality. The formatting of the text inside the book is rather squashed together as most old books are. There are drawings inserted on random pages in the book but I didn’t pay much attention to them. I assume they represent certain events in the story.
In the 80’s this book would have been as popular as Diary of a Wimpy Kid is today. But as I was clearly out of the target demographic, I did not like this book very much. Actually, not at all.
The Subjective Review:
I regret choosing this for Literature Circles. If anyone asks, it was forced on me. See my status updates for my emotions while reading.
Multiple Choice Question:
Is Adrian Mole:
A: sexist
B: ungrateful
C: an insult to fourteen year olds
D: not an intellectual
TRICK QUESTION! He is in fact, answer E: all of the above AND THEN SOME!
I don't know where to start explaining this horrible excuse for a fourteen year old. He calls himself an intellectual, yet his poems sound like "he ate a dictionary and started vomiting up words at random." He spends the whole book whinging, whining, groaning, moaning, and complaining about every little thing that goes wrong in his life.
*puts on cutesy kindergarten teacher voice* Okay, children. Today I am going to tell you the meaning of life. It's not perfect, and it's damn hard. If you wanted the easy way out, you should have been born dead instead. Living is hard. Do we all understand that? *cough*Adrian Mole*cough*
Approaching his caricature from an impersonal, critical, analytical view (like my English teacher said), I can see how this would appeal to teenage boys...back in the 80's. Yeah, I bet that back then it was as popular as Diary of a Wimpy Kid. But today? A snowflake's chance on the sun.
"Pandora
I adore ya
I implore ye
Don't ignore me."
Can anyone say INSTA-LOVE?
Now, moving onto plot since the supporting characters were so uninteresting...oh wait...hang on...I don't seem to be detecting a plot anywhere within these 187 pages. Oh dear. Well to sum it up, he made New Years resolutions, he measured his 'thing', read indecent magazines, hid the phone bill, his parents split up, his dog went missing, he caters for this old guy who ends up in hospital then gets married, falls in love with Pandora, goes to Derbyshire, and shaves. Not in that order. I also do not understand how it ended. Just couldn't end at the end of 1982 couldn't you? You just had to throw in three months of 1983 and cut it off in the most random place possible? For Lit Circles, we had do this Narrative summary thing where you use that story mountain to identify the parts of the story. When we got up to the part where we were supposed to write the climax, there was a collective silence. THERE IS NO CLIMAX. All rising action that shouldn't be called rising action because it doesn't build up to anything!
The writing is so jerky, the book should be a piece of beef. Again with the analytical approach: it fits the story and Adrian's caricature. But for the reader who happens to HATE poorly written books? No.
What I really don't understand is why the book is written about a boring, ordinary guy who has nothing happening in his life. From the impersonal approach, I can see the author tried to appeal to the ordinary teenager back in the 80's. But aren't books fiction for a reason? Don't you write and read them to experience the things that would never happen in your own life? In my opinion, a diary should be from the point of view of a person who has had something memorable happen in their life. Like say, Anne Frank?
I am seriously considering stabbing this book like Harry Potter stabbed Tom Riddle's diary. I don't care that it's school property. Give me a Basilisk fang, phone charger, umbrella, plastic spork, I'm not fussed, and I'll stab it and relish in the way the ink bleeds off the pages into oblivion.
No, seriously. I need that Basilisk fang.
Yes, I hate this book so much, I killed its sole, lonely star.
As this was a school assigned book, I have written a much more formal review from an objective point of view for my English class. I also wrote a review purely for me, from a very subjective point of view. Feel free to just read the objective one but if you want to see how bad the book was for me, personally, read to the end.
Without further ado...
The Objective Review:
From an objective point of view, The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole Aged 13 ¾ wasn’t half bad.
Adrian Mole is your average, English, teenage boy living in the 80’s. As he goes through puberty, he must struggle with conflicting emotions, parent troubles, pimples, and first love. I would have preferred the diary to be on a more interesting character and lifestyle but that is just my personal preference.
This book is told from Adrian Mole’s point of view, in a series of diary entries. The mundane, everyday updates could provide many points for the reader to relate to.
Adrian is, quite frankly, an ungrateful, arrogant kid, but in the underlying messages, you can tell he does have an understanding of love. The things his family goes through would be pretty tough for a teenager who also has his own internal problems. I did not like him very much, as some of the things he said were pretty insulting. Teenage boys will probably find traits they can relate to, but, as I am a girl, I did not find any.
The supporting characters include Pandora, Adrian’s love interest, Adrian’s father, mother, grandmother, and an old man name Bert Baxter. He had one of the more interesting stories but he was not a main focus of the novel.
The plot was not very well done. I understand that it is meant to have a very natural, raw feel to it, being a diary of a teenage boy, but I felt that it was very random and disjointed. The events had no order to them, which I find really annoying as I like things to be organized. There was no climax, even in the background themes. It was a sequence of mundane events with no big event to tie everything together. The ending was so abrupt, I thought the author just wrote the whole book series at once, and told the publisher to chop it wherever they needed to make them into perfectly identical books.
There was also very minimal character development. Adrian has the same personality at the end as he has at the start.
The writing style was also very jerky. As it is from Adrian’s hand, it is explainable. I just did not like it. I have always been a fan of the fluent, lyrical, poetic prose, so this amateurish, jerky writing was not to my taste.
In the visual department, the cover is very boring. There is nothing to really suggest the story or Adrian’s personality. The formatting of the text inside the book is rather squashed together as most old books are. There are drawings inserted on random pages in the book but I didn’t pay much attention to them. I assume they represent certain events in the story.
In the 80’s this book would have been as popular as Diary of a Wimpy Kid is today. But as I was clearly out of the target demographic, I did not like this book very much. Actually, not at all.
The Subjective Review:
I regret choosing this for Literature Circles. If anyone asks, it was forced on me. See my status updates for my emotions while reading.
Multiple Choice Question:
Is Adrian Mole:
A: sexist
B: ungrateful
C: an insult to fourteen year olds
D: not an intellectual
TRICK QUESTION! He is in fact, answer E: all of the above AND THEN SOME!
I don't know where to start explaining this horrible excuse for a fourteen year old. He calls himself an intellectual, yet his poems sound like "he ate a dictionary and started vomiting up words at random." He spends the whole book whinging, whining, groaning, moaning, and complaining about every little thing that goes wrong in his life.
*puts on cutesy kindergarten teacher voice* Okay, children. Today I am going to tell you the meaning of life. It's not perfect, and it's damn hard. If you wanted the easy way out, you should have been born dead instead. Living is hard. Do we all understand that? *cough*Adrian Mole*cough*
Approaching his caricature from an impersonal, critical, analytical view (like my English teacher said), I can see how this would appeal to teenage boys...back in the 80's. Yeah, I bet that back then it was as popular as Diary of a Wimpy Kid. But today? A snowflake's chance on the sun.
"Pandora
I adore ya
I implore ye
Don't ignore me."
Can anyone say INSTA-LOVE?
Now, moving onto plot since the supporting characters were so uninteresting...oh wait...hang on...I don't seem to be detecting a plot anywhere within these 187 pages. Oh dear. Well to sum it up, he made New Years resolutions, he measured his 'thing', read indecent magazines, hid the phone bill, his parents split up, his dog went missing, he caters for this old guy who ends up in hospital then gets married, falls in love with Pandora, goes to Derbyshire, and shaves. Not in that order. I also do not understand how it ended. Just couldn't end at the end of 1982 couldn't you? You just had to throw in three months of 1983 and cut it off in the most random place possible? For Lit Circles, we had do this Narrative summary thing where you use that story mountain to identify the parts of the story. When we got up to the part where we were supposed to write the climax, there was a collective silence. THERE IS NO CLIMAX. All rising action that shouldn't be called rising action because it doesn't build up to anything!
The writing is so jerky, the book should be a piece of beef. Again with the analytical approach: it fits the story and Adrian's caricature. But for the reader who happens to HATE poorly written books? No.
What I really don't understand is why the book is written about a boring, ordinary guy who has nothing happening in his life. From the impersonal approach, I can see the author tried to appeal to the ordinary teenager back in the 80's. But aren't books fiction for a reason? Don't you write and read them to experience the things that would never happen in your own life? In my opinion, a diary should be from the point of view of a person who has had something memorable happen in their life. Like say, Anne Frank?
I am seriously considering stabbing this book like Harry Potter stabbed Tom Riddle's diary. I don't care that it's school property. Give me a Basilisk fang, phone charger, umbrella, plastic spork, I'm not fussed, and I'll stab it and relish in the way the ink bleeds off the pages into oblivion.
No, seriously. I need that Basilisk fang.
April 25, 2012
April 25
I start reading a book called Diary of a Nobody. It is boring and not much happens, also Mr. Pooter is pretty dim. I don't get it. Why would anyone want to write a book about a nobody who takes himself far too seriously?
I decide that I will write a book about myself that will be quite different, it will be full of important things I do and extremely interesting. Perhaps I will call it Diary of a Somebody. But then people won't know which somebody it is, since everyone is somebody. I decide that a better title will be Secret Diary of Adrian Mole Aged 13 and 3/4. I am just about to start writing some important things when my mother reminds me that I said I would tidy up my room. I will write about them when I have finished tidying.
April 26
I have received letters from two people I don't know, called MJ Nicholls and Knig-o-lass. They both want to be in my diary. This is a bit strange, since my diary is secret, but I write back to say I will put them in if they do some silly things with yoga, teddy bears and toffee apples. I think this is very original, and shows I am a Somebody.
April 27
I have received another letter from MJ. He says he wants his own days in my diary, so I will not mention anyone else today. I had not understood that keeping a diary was so complicated.
April 28
I am trying to imagine what Miss Knig-o-lass looks like. I see her as a beautiful, treacle-haired temptress, like Pandora at school. I am hoping that she will also send me a request.
Miss Knig-o-lass does not seem as demanding as MJ. Perhaps this is because she is a nicer person, or perhaps it is just because she hasn't noticed me. It's often hard to tell with girls.
April 29
Miss Knig-o-lass has also sent me a request! I don't really understand it, but there is a card with a stretched-out picture of a lady and something about how chocolate can't get you pregnant. I must make sure that Pandora does not find out about my friendship with this sophisticated older woman.
April 30
MJ has sent me another message! He says he might be jealous. I think he must be Miss Knig-o-lass's regular boyfriend. He used a Latin word I didn't know, I wish I had been paying more attention in biology yesterday when we were doing Human Reproduction.
Since I started keeping this diary my life has become more and more interesting. I am definitely a Somebody.
I start reading a book called Diary of a Nobody. It is boring and not much happens, also Mr. Pooter is pretty dim. I don't get it. Why would anyone want to write a book about a nobody who takes himself far too seriously?
I decide that I will write a book about myself that will be quite different, it will be full of important things I do and extremely interesting. Perhaps I will call it Diary of a Somebody. But then people won't know which somebody it is, since everyone is somebody. I decide that a better title will be Secret Diary of Adrian Mole Aged 13 and 3/4. I am just about to start writing some important things when my mother reminds me that I said I would tidy up my room. I will write about them when I have finished tidying.
April 26
I have received letters from two people I don't know, called MJ Nicholls and Knig-o-lass. They both want to be in my diary. This is a bit strange, since my diary is secret, but I write back to say I will put them in if they do some silly things with yoga, teddy bears and toffee apples. I think this is very original, and shows I am a Somebody.
April 27
I have received another letter from MJ. He says he wants his own days in my diary, so I will not mention anyone else today. I had not understood that keeping a diary was so complicated.
April 28
I am trying to imagine what Miss Knig-o-lass looks like. I see her as a beautiful, treacle-haired temptress, like Pandora at school. I am hoping that she will also send me a request.
Miss Knig-o-lass does not seem as demanding as MJ. Perhaps this is because she is a nicer person, or perhaps it is just because she hasn't noticed me. It's often hard to tell with girls.
April 29
Miss Knig-o-lass has also sent me a request! I don't really understand it, but there is a card with a stretched-out picture of a lady and something about how chocolate can't get you pregnant. I must make sure that Pandora does not find out about my friendship with this sophisticated older woman.
April 30
MJ has sent me another message! He says he might be jealous. I think he must be Miss Knig-o-lass's regular boyfriend. He used a Latin word I didn't know, I wish I had been paying more attention in biology yesterday when we were doing Human Reproduction.
Since I started keeping this diary my life has become more and more interesting. I am definitely a Somebody.
May 24, 2012
I've just read this to my daughter who is exactly this age. I'd read the book when it first came out but it was great to revisit both it and the memories that it stirred. Reliving the Falklands War, the Royal Wedding, mass unemployment, stress over the changes to the school system etc was fascinating if only to realise how little has changed! We almost had to stop reading at one point as each day's literary Mole catastrophe coincidentally seemed to then occur in my daughter's real life: her first spot, the disastrous school trip...! We both loved it and she has been inspired to start a diary! I've read everyone of the Mole books - the Weapons of Mass Destruction will remain my favourite for obvious reasons! What a talent. Word of warning though: if you do get these on audio books, don't play them in the car while driving. I came close to crashing when one anecdote in The Capuccino Years blinded me with tears of hysterical laughter just outside Colchester. I had to stop the car to recover and compose myself with a hefty dose of R4 Woman's Hour instead.
Read
October 29, 2023I first read this years ago in a double edition together with it's sequel. I was more amused this time round, I smiled quite a few times and laughed twice while reading. The joy of it is the narrative voice, naive, and reasonably convinced that it is all about them. There is a slow, sly broadening of the world for the diary writer, though he remains quite limited at the age of 15, but is ever so slightly less small minded than at age 13 and 3/4ers.
I think it is now of a period piece now although I guess the politics might have been obscure to non-Britons even when it was first published in 1982. It is a tender memorial to small town life in, I guess, the East Midlands in the early 1980s, and the trials and tribulations of being a teenager. There are spots, there is love, fear of nuclear war, unemployment, and what might be the dismal certainty of adult life of the narrator somehow did not think that he and his cohort would have a different fate and might avoid all the secrets and lies.
Really very easy going, gentle reading.
I think it is now of a period piece now although I guess the politics might have been obscure to non-Britons even when it was first published in 1982. It is a tender memorial to small town life in, I guess, the East Midlands in the early 1980s, and the trials and tribulations of being a teenager. There are spots, there is love, fear of nuclear war, unemployment, and what might be the dismal certainty of adult life of the narrator somehow did not think that he and his cohort would have a different fate and might avoid all the secrets and lies.
Really very easy going, gentle reading.
December 25, 2019
Oh boy, this was a journey down memory lane. I missed these Adrian Mole books when first published in 1982; I was thirty years old then (OMG was that really 37 years ago?), and remember the life and times of England well. Apart from the nostalgia trip, this book is funny with a capital F, British irony at its best.
February 13, 2020
“I have a problem. I am an intellectual, but at the same time I am not very clever.”
RTC
RTC
February 11, 2017
I read Adrian Mole first when I was his age, but before my interest in the opposite sex was kindled. It left enough impression to resurface. The secondhand paperbacks in original English are literally leafing loose from overreading in my late twenties. What do older readers get out of him ? A hilarious reminder that we were all once this young and stupid, coupled with the relief that we came through.
The first book remains - together with its direct sequel, The Growing Pains of Adrian Mole - the best of the series, not just because Adrian's naivité is universally felt in the teenage years, but also because even after the passing of Towsend, his diary captures the Tatcheresque Zeitgeist as a historical flavour.
The first book remains - together with its direct sequel, The Growing Pains of Adrian Mole - the best of the series, not just because Adrian's naivité is universally felt in the teenage years, but also because even after the passing of Towsend, his diary captures the Tatcheresque Zeitgeist as a historical flavour.
April 22, 2008
The Diary of Adrian Mole is like a snarky one-liner that continues for 135 pages. Adrian is a self-centered, irreverent British 14-year-old whose diary entries include nuggets of wisdom such as:
Pandora and I are in love! It is official! She told Claire Neilson, who told Nigel, who told me.
I told Nigel to tell Claire to tell Pandora that I return her love. I am over the moon with joy and rapture. I can overlook the fact that Pandora smokes five Benson and Hedges a day and has her own lighter. When you are in love such things cease to matter.
It was entertaining, but never really got beyond the point of a quick, light read.
I did learn that there was a short-lived BBC series based on the book. The intro is actually pretty sweetly tacky:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bwXvBJ...
Pandora and I are in love! It is official! She told Claire Neilson, who told Nigel, who told me.
I told Nigel to tell Claire to tell Pandora that I return her love. I am over the moon with joy and rapture. I can overlook the fact that Pandora smokes five Benson and Hedges a day and has her own lighter. When you are in love such things cease to matter.
It was entertaining, but never really got beyond the point of a quick, light read.
I did learn that there was a short-lived BBC series based on the book. The intro is actually pretty sweetly tacky:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bwXvBJ...
June 15, 2024
This was a really fun read!
April 5, 2018
While it made me laugh out loud on occasion, this book was just not for me. I know Adrian is supposed to be clueless but he’s also obnoxious and most of the time I wanted to reach through the pages to choke him. His situation is not a good one, but I get the feeling he would be just as annoying even in the perfect home. I suppose the humor is just not my style.
This unbiased review is based upon a complimentary copy provided by the publisher.
This unbiased review is based upon a complimentary copy provided by the publisher.
July 19, 2016
Like many before him, pimply, priggish, pretentious 13-year-old Adrian Mole — well, 13 and three-fourths, to be precise — begins a diary on New Year’s Day. Well, he Leicester had me from the very start. Adrian’s the sort of boy who imagines a future in which his parents, his teachers, school bully Barry Kent, and just about everyone will be sorry that they weren’t nicer to him. My favorite quote? “Perhaps when I am famous and my diary is discovered, people will understand the torment of being a 13¾-year-old undiscovered intellectual.”
His entries over two years detail his frustrations with his parents, his infatuation with the popular Pandora, his pompous posing as an intellectual “artiste,” his snobbery and self-dramatization, his dreadful poems, and the awkward obsessions with acne and being cool endemic to all teens in every age. His obliviousness and the usual teen self-absorption, while amusing, brings back memories of my own 13th year, when I locked myself in my room after school every day, wrote book reviews, and cried about my hard, hard life as the pampered daughter who never lifted a finger about the house. Leicester, UK, in the 1980s clearly wasn’t that different from Miami in 1970s, another, more innocent age. Like Adrian with Pandora (“my treacle-haired love”), I was in love with red-headed Darryl McNair, my lab partner, who never gave me a second thought. And like the overly sensitive Adrian, I would have died if Darryl had ever known. At the same time, my heart went out to Adrian over Barry Kent’s bullying him, his parents’ squabbling, and his teen angst and utter cluelessness.
You’ll laugh out loud — right before you catch yourself thanking God that those days are behind you. Despite his priggishness and cluelessness, it’s impossible not to love Adrian Mole.
His entries over two years detail his frustrations with his parents, his infatuation with the popular Pandora, his pompous posing as an intellectual “artiste,” his snobbery and self-dramatization, his dreadful poems, and the awkward obsessions with acne and being cool endemic to all teens in every age. His obliviousness and the usual teen self-absorption, while amusing, brings back memories of my own 13th year, when I locked myself in my room after school every day, wrote book reviews, and cried about my hard, hard life as the pampered daughter who never lifted a finger about the house. Leicester, UK, in the 1980s clearly wasn’t that different from Miami in 1970s, another, more innocent age. Like Adrian with Pandora (“my treacle-haired love”), I was in love with red-headed Darryl McNair, my lab partner, who never gave me a second thought. And like the overly sensitive Adrian, I would have died if Darryl had ever known. At the same time, my heart went out to Adrian over Barry Kent’s bullying him, his parents’ squabbling, and his teen angst and utter cluelessness.
You’ll laugh out loud — right before you catch yourself thanking God that those days are behind you. Despite his priggishness and cluelessness, it’s impossible not to love Adrian Mole.
December 1, 2020
Smagus, greitas, paaugliams tinkamas, bet suaugusiesiems gal net juokingesnis skaitinys. Skaitytas pirmą kartą ankstyvoje paauglystėje, pakartotas dabar, kai jau senokai nebe paauglė, bet dar prisimenu, ką reiškia ja būti. Angliškai kokį milijoną kartų juokingiau, nei lietuviškai. Bet čia ir taip aišku. Rekomenduoju visiems, kurie ieško kažko truputį piktdžiugiškai juokingo. Ir tiems, kurie laiko save kitų nesuprastais intelektualais, ypač turintiems polinkį į poezijos rašymą ir protingų knygų skaitymą. Kai kurie dalykai niekada nesikeičia.
July 10, 2020
Very much set in the early 80's, thankfully I managed to get most of the references.
The gags will mainly work depending on how well you know that era.
The gags will mainly work depending on how well you know that era.
February 22, 2021
Adrijane, sapatniče.
„Pas ima oči iste boje kao i Pandora. To sam primijetio jer ga je stara oši��ala. Očajno izgleda. Gospodin Lucas i stara ismijavali su novu pseću frizuru, što nije baš lijepo, jer pas ne može odgovoriti, baš kao ni kraljevska obitelj.
Idem rano u krevet misliti na Pandoru i obaviti vježbe iste- zanja leđa. Već dva tjedna nisam narastao ni milimetra. Ako se tako nastavi, bit ću patuljak.
Ako se prišt ne izgubi, u subotu idem k liječniku. Ne mogu više živjeti tako da svi bulje u mene.” (15)
+
„Napisao sam pjesmu. Trebale su mi samo dvije minute. Čak i poznatim pjesnicima to dulje traje. Zove se »Pipa«, ali zapravo nije o slavini, vrlo je duboka, o životu i tim stvarima.
PIPA, autor Adrian Mole
Kapa pipa, spavati mi ne da
Svaka kap u oči me gleda
Prelit će se voda, kakva greda
Za tepih novi trebat će nam kreda
Popravi pipu stari, treba ti minuta i pol
Samo gumicu zamijeni, ne budi vol!” (14)
P. S. Kad sam bio mali, pojma nisam imao ni ko je Margaret Tačer, gde su Foklandska ostrva, kao ni gotovo ništa što je bila Adrijanova lektira. Tek sad vidim koliko je kontekst važan i koliko su naslovi dobro odabrani. (Pogotovo kad je očigledno da Adrijan nije nešto pročitao.)
P. P. S. Da li postoji bolje ime za životnu ljubav od Pandore?
P. P. P. S. Bart Bekster je urnebesan, kao mnogi žilavi starčići.
„Pas ima oči iste boje kao i Pandora. To sam primijetio jer ga je stara oši��ala. Očajno izgleda. Gospodin Lucas i stara ismijavali su novu pseću frizuru, što nije baš lijepo, jer pas ne može odgovoriti, baš kao ni kraljevska obitelj.
Idem rano u krevet misliti na Pandoru i obaviti vježbe iste- zanja leđa. Već dva tjedna nisam narastao ni milimetra. Ako se tako nastavi, bit ću patuljak.
Ako se prišt ne izgubi, u subotu idem k liječniku. Ne mogu više živjeti tako da svi bulje u mene.” (15)
+
„Napisao sam pjesmu. Trebale su mi samo dvije minute. Čak i poznatim pjesnicima to dulje traje. Zove se »Pipa«, ali zapravo nije o slavini, vrlo je duboka, o životu i tim stvarima.
PIPA, autor Adrian Mole
Kapa pipa, spavati mi ne da
Svaka kap u oči me gleda
Prelit će se voda, kakva greda
Za tepih novi trebat će nam kreda
Popravi pipu stari, treba ti minuta i pol
Samo gumicu zamijeni, ne budi vol!” (14)
P. S. Kad sam bio mali, pojma nisam imao ni ko je Margaret Tačer, gde su Foklandska ostrva, kao ni gotovo ništa što je bila Adrijanova lektira. Tek sad vidim koliko je kontekst važan i koliko su naslovi dobro odabrani. (Pogotovo kad je očigledno da Adrijan nije nešto pročitao.)
P. P. S. Da li postoji bolje ime za životnu ljubav od Pandore?
P. P. P. S. Bart Bekster je urnebesan, kao mnogi žilavi starčići.
May 18, 2023
I have no idea why I waited all these years to read this brilliant book. Adrian Mole’s diary from 13 3/4 to 15 years of age is hilariously funny and sometimes sad told autobiography in few word sentences that offers an awful lot of insight of the world of a young teenage boy and of the world of the early 80’s. Adrian is surprisingly perceptive and laughingly clueless. Cleverly sarcastic and amusingly crude. Brilliantly aware and accidentally witty. Loved it - the not even sure myself why the missing star, it’s perhaps not a masterpiece - but enjoyment it scores top!
Thursday July 9th
School breaks up for eight weeks tomorrow. Pandora is going to Tunisia soon. How I will survive without my love is anyone’s guess. We have tried French kissing but neither of us liked it, so we have gone back to the English.
Tuesday August 26th
The massacre of Glencoe took place on February 13th 1692. On February 14, John Hill wrote to the Earl of Tweeddale, ‘I have ruined Glencoe’.
He was dead right, there is nothing there. Glasgow tomorrow.
Thursday July 9th
School breaks up for eight weeks tomorrow. Pandora is going to Tunisia soon. How I will survive without my love is anyone’s guess. We have tried French kissing but neither of us liked it, so we have gone back to the English.
Tuesday August 26th
The massacre of Glencoe took place on February 13th 1692. On February 14, John Hill wrote to the Earl of Tweeddale, ‘I have ruined Glencoe’.
He was dead right, there is nothing there. Glasgow tomorrow.
September 7, 2023
3,5 stelute 😊
M-a amuzat, mi-a placut si stilul de scriere, deci cu siguranta voi continua seria.😊
M-a amuzat, mi-a placut si stilul de scriere, deci cu siguranta voi continua seria.😊
August 16, 2020
Serialised on radio, adapted repeatedly for TV, Adrian Mole has earned himself a place alongside Jim Dixon and Mr Pooter in our literary culture.
Mole seemed an unlikely success from the start. After years of hardscrabble living, single parenting, poverty, and naff writers' groups, Townsend submitted a monologue to BBC radio about a boy called Nigel Mole. A suit named John Tydeman liked the piece and helped get it on the radio; a torrent of book offers followed after the first few broadcasts. After being sent to Methuen in instalments, the book was published with a modest print run of 7,500 copies. The book stayed on the British bestseller lists for over 12 months. The book that finally knocked it off the top spot was its sequel. Townsend became the best selling British author of the 80s and a franchise was born.
Why?
One of the series’ charms is how, like Updike’s ‘Rabbit’ sequence, it captures history as people actually live through it - namely oddly.
Gushing with patriotic fervour at the Royal Wedding (Charles and Diana), the endless coverage soon bores Mole to tears. When the Falklands War starts Mole's Father flies into a panic-stricken fit, believing the Falklands are off the coast of Scotland. When his son puts him straight, he shrugs and goes back to bed.
I envy readers who didn't live through the era chronicled in the novel. Few books give you such a sense of total immediacy - the illusion of living in a different time, in real time. Realism - and a very low-key, deflating Midlands wit - are crucial to the effect. Mole's obsessions (girls, spots, mates, parents, money and the lack of it, spots) never ring false and nor does his voice. Some readers assumed 'Sue Townsend' was a pseudonym: surely, no woman could have written about a teenage boy with such merciless accuracy. I doubt many read it without squirming today.
Central to Mole’s appeal is self-delusion. He understands every word Malcolm Muggeridge says on a TV programme, and thinks this makes him an intellectual. He writes poetry but only of the 'Roses are red, violets are blue, why do nice girls hate me?' variety. Fame, fortune and vengeance against everyone who has ever wronged him will surely arrive - some day. Though entirely talentless, he strives on, never giving up, and never shedding his essential decency. I hope it isn't just provincial underdogs who feel a begrudging sense of respect for the character.
That goes, too, for his doomed pursuit of the ‘treacle-haired’ Pandora Braithwaite. It may be her 'chest wobbling everywhere' that gets his attention, but it's clear he's more in love with bedding a girl higher up the social ladder than the girl herself. Snobbery is a democratic disease.
Mole's diaries couldn't prompt such thoughts if they didn't immerse you so thoroughly in the ordeal of growing up. That is why all should read them.
RIP Sue Townsend.
Mole seemed an unlikely success from the start. After years of hardscrabble living, single parenting, poverty, and naff writers' groups, Townsend submitted a monologue to BBC radio about a boy called Nigel Mole. A suit named John Tydeman liked the piece and helped get it on the radio; a torrent of book offers followed after the first few broadcasts. After being sent to Methuen in instalments, the book was published with a modest print run of 7,500 copies. The book stayed on the British bestseller lists for over 12 months. The book that finally knocked it off the top spot was its sequel. Townsend became the best selling British author of the 80s and a franchise was born.
Why?
One of the series’ charms is how, like Updike’s ‘Rabbit’ sequence, it captures history as people actually live through it - namely oddly.
Gushing with patriotic fervour at the Royal Wedding (Charles and Diana), the endless coverage soon bores Mole to tears. When the Falklands War starts Mole's Father flies into a panic-stricken fit, believing the Falklands are off the coast of Scotland. When his son puts him straight, he shrugs and goes back to bed.
I envy readers who didn't live through the era chronicled in the novel. Few books give you such a sense of total immediacy - the illusion of living in a different time, in real time. Realism - and a very low-key, deflating Midlands wit - are crucial to the effect. Mole's obsessions (girls, spots, mates, parents, money and the lack of it, spots) never ring false and nor does his voice. Some readers assumed 'Sue Townsend' was a pseudonym: surely, no woman could have written about a teenage boy with such merciless accuracy. I doubt many read it without squirming today.
Central to Mole’s appeal is self-delusion. He understands every word Malcolm Muggeridge says on a TV programme, and thinks this makes him an intellectual. He writes poetry but only of the 'Roses are red, violets are blue, why do nice girls hate me?' variety. Fame, fortune and vengeance against everyone who has ever wronged him will surely arrive - some day. Though entirely talentless, he strives on, never giving up, and never shedding his essential decency. I hope it isn't just provincial underdogs who feel a begrudging sense of respect for the character.
That goes, too, for his doomed pursuit of the ‘treacle-haired’ Pandora Braithwaite. It may be her 'chest wobbling everywhere' that gets his attention, but it's clear he's more in love with bedding a girl higher up the social ladder than the girl herself. Snobbery is a democratic disease.
Mole's diaries couldn't prompt such thoughts if they didn't immerse you so thoroughly in the ordeal of growing up. That is why all should read them.
RIP Sue Townsend.
November 17, 2015
You've probably heard of "The Secret (although not anymore it would seem) Diary of Adrian Mole Aged 13 ¾" but I'll review it anyway.
The diary covers the period January 1981 through to beginning of April 1982. Therefore Adrian was not 13 ¾ throughout the story (false advertising?); instead he was merely 13 ¾ at the beginning and 15 at the end.
It is now 30 years since the diary's release and apart from mentions to the price of things (£30,000 for a semi-detached house, if only) and the mention of certain politicians of the time it hasn't really dated. Big events of the time are covered like the Royal wedding between Prince Charles and Lady Diana. Also the country is in a recession it seems which may have reflected the time period (I was born during the time period so can't remember it but have been told that it was a recession).
Adrian Mole is funny because of his "woe is me" attitude to everything that happens to him. He is an intellectual too (self-classified). He also has an innocence, particularly at the beginning of the book, to what goes on around him that leads to some more funny moments.
All in all I think this book has already proved itself what with its many millions of sales. If I were to say it were rubbish then it wouldn't matter, but I liked it and thoroughly recommend it to people after a laugh.
The diary covers the period January 1981 through to beginning of April 1982. Therefore Adrian was not 13 ¾ throughout the story (false advertising?); instead he was merely 13 ¾ at the beginning and 15 at the end.
It is now 30 years since the diary's release and apart from mentions to the price of things (£30,000 for a semi-detached house, if only) and the mention of certain politicians of the time it hasn't really dated. Big events of the time are covered like the Royal wedding between Prince Charles and Lady Diana. Also the country is in a recession it seems which may have reflected the time period (I was born during the time period so can't remember it but have been told that it was a recession).
Adrian Mole is funny because of his "woe is me" attitude to everything that happens to him. He is an intellectual too (self-classified). He also has an innocence, particularly at the beginning of the book, to what goes on around him that leads to some more funny moments.
All in all I think this book has already proved itself what with its many millions of sales. If I were to say it were rubbish then it wouldn't matter, but I liked it and thoroughly recommend it to people after a laugh.
August 1, 2015
I have been meaning to read this classic for YEARS.
Poor old Adrian: so innocent and pompous and self-deluded, all at the same time. This book is very, very English; I think that I had just enough knowledge of the culture (after 24 years of being with a British man) to pretty much "get" it. It also helps that I was more or less the same age as Adrian in the early 1980s. Great social document, with some enduring humour -- a lot of it in the gap between what Adrian thinks/understands and what the reader understands. Although most of the humour holds up, some of the details of school/home life/politics will seem foreignly "historical" to a contemporary teenager. I don't know if I love it enough to follow the entire series, but I've had Adrian Mole: The Cappuccino Years on my TBR shelf for ages . . . so definitely that one at least. By the way, my edition has a great foreword from David Walliams -- definitely worth a read, if you are the sort of person to skip that kind of thing.
Poor old Adrian: so innocent and pompous and self-deluded, all at the same time. This book is very, very English; I think that I had just enough knowledge of the culture (after 24 years of being with a British man) to pretty much "get" it. It also helps that I was more or less the same age as Adrian in the early 1980s. Great social document, with some enduring humour -- a lot of it in the gap between what Adrian thinks/understands and what the reader understands. Although most of the humour holds up, some of the details of school/home life/politics will seem foreignly "historical" to a contemporary teenager. I don't know if I love it enough to follow the entire series, but I've had Adrian Mole: The Cappuccino Years on my TBR shelf for ages . . . so definitely that one at least. By the way, my edition has a great foreword from David Walliams -- definitely worth a read, if you are the sort of person to skip that kind of thing.
December 14, 2018
Το 'απόλυτο' χιουμοριστικό νεανικό μυθιστόρημα για εφήβους. Η Σου Τάουνσεντ δημιουργεί ένα από τους πιο ξεχωριστούς και ευφυείς ήρωες της Παγκόσμιας Λογοτεχνίας, τον φοβερό και τρομερό Έιντριαν Μόουλ, ο οποίος 'τσακίζει' με το φλεγματικό και ευρηματικό του χιούμορ. Το 'βιτριολικό' πνεύμα του βιβλίου δεν αφήνει τίποτα ασχολίαστο και άνευ κριτικής από τα φλέγοντα θέματα της Βρετανικής κουλτούρας της εποχής (1982), τα οποία 'εκτείνονται' από το κίνημα των punks και τον ανεξέλεγκτο ενθουσιασμό για τον γάμο της πριγκίπισσας Νταϊάνα μέχρι την αρκετά συντηρητική πολιτική της Θάτσερ, την αύξηση της ανεργίας, την άστοχη πολιτικοποίηση και την απαξίωση της τεχνολογικής εξέλιξης.
Πέρα από αυτό, βέβαια, οφείλω να τονίσω ότι ποτέ η σεξουαλική και ερωτική αφύπνιση ενός εφήβου δεν είχε αποτυπωθεί στο γραπτό λόγο με τόσο αφοπλιστική ειλικρίνεια και ρεαλισμό. Ένα μυθιστόρημα που τα 'τινάζει όλα στον αέρα' και μάς θυμίζει (σημαντική ατάκα του Έιντριαν Μόουλ) ότι δηλ. (μερικές φορές) 'η αγάπη (για την Πανδώρα) είναι το μόνο πράγμα που με συγκρατεί, αλλιώς θα είχα τρελαθεί'.
Βαθμολογία: 4,5/5 ή 9/10.
Πέρα από αυτό, βέβαια, οφείλω να τονίσω ότι ποτέ η σεξουαλική και ερωτική αφύπνιση ενός εφήβου δεν είχε αποτυπωθεί στο γραπτό λόγο με τόσο αφοπλιστική ειλικρίνεια και ρεαλισμό. Ένα μυθιστόρημα που τα 'τινάζει όλα στον αέρα' και μάς θυμίζει (σημαντική ατάκα του Έιντριαν Μόουλ) ότι δηλ. (μερικές φορές) 'η αγάπη (για την Πανδώρα) είναι το μόνο πράγμα που με συγκρατεί, αλλιώς θα είχα τρελαθεί'.
Βαθμολογία: 4,5/5 ή 9/10.
August 23, 2017
I wanted to read something different from my usual reads so my friend Smitha recommended this book to me. When she mentioned that this book is written like a diary, the usual picture of a bubbly girl writing a diary came to my mind but it was Adrian Mole and I haven't read my books with male diary writers so this was the main reason I picked this book.
This is the diary of Adrian Mole who is 13 3/4 years old and is waiting for his birthday. He considers himself and the readers intellectuals so his sarcasm and sallies towards the dumber characters in the book was probably my favorite part. In this book, his parents break up but soon after, them make up again, Mole gets sick and has trouble in school but overall the book maintains light and funny circumstances.
Really liked it and looking forward to read the following books in the series.
Overall, 4.5 stars! :)
This is the diary of Adrian Mole who is 13 3/4 years old and is waiting for his birthday. He considers himself and the readers intellectuals so his sarcasm and sallies towards the dumber characters in the book was probably my favorite part. In this book, his parents break up but soon after, them make up again, Mole gets sick and has trouble in school but overall the book maintains light and funny circumstances.
Really liked it and looking forward to read the following books in the series.
Overall, 4.5 stars! :)
August 15, 2015
Koji je ovo užitak bio čitajući u pubertetskom razdoblju. U mnogim stvarima sam se prepoznao što je u biti i najveća odlika ove knjige. Pokazati da nisi jedini koji prolazi kroz pubertetske patnje i druženje s ravnalom :)
Najjača scena mi je bila nesreća s ljepljenjem makete :) :)
Najjača scena mi je bila nesreća s ljepljenjem makete :) :)
April 3, 2024
Reasonably amusing. I imagine this must capture a certain amount of Thatcherite instability. The narrator’s family is hit hard economically and spirals into predictable domestic difficulty. In the midst of his family coming unglued, he decides to become an intellectual. His reading notes throughout are thus the highlight for me, such as
March 6 […] Used my father’s library tickets to get War and Peace out. I have lost my own. […]By book's end, he manages to move from his parent’s Toryism to a statement that “I am a committed radical. I am against nearly everything.” I'm not sure if that's meant to be nihilistic or anarchistic or what. Apparently these were best selling books in the UK in the 80s.
March 7 […] Finished War and Peace. It was quite good.
March 21, 2023
Zaboravila sam koliko je ovo preduhovita knjiga! Kupila sam je zasad najstarijoj kćerki koja će uskoro 12, ali sam prvo, naravno, uzela sama da je pročitam i da se podsjetim (između ostalog i da se pripremim za neka potencijalno škakljiva pitanja s njene strane).
Inače, ovo je jedna od prvih knjiga (kojih se sjećam) koje sam samostalno iznajmila iz biblioteke poooooooodavno i koju sam željela još otad da imam u svojoj ličnoj biblioteci, ali tad ili nije bilo knjižara ili para za kupovinu knjiga, ko te pitao. I tako, uglavnom, divno je bilo i sad, nakon toliko godina, vratiti se u ovaj period i uživati u dogodovštinama i razmišljanjima Adrijana Mola. Čula sam da ih ima još cijeli serijal, možda nekad nastavim i dalje,..
Inače, ovo je jedna od prvih knjiga (kojih se sjećam) koje sam samostalno iznajmila iz biblioteke poooooooodavno i koju sam željela još otad da imam u svojoj ličnoj biblioteci, ali tad ili nije bilo knjižara ili para za kupovinu knjiga, ko te pitao. I tako, uglavnom, divno je bilo i sad, nakon toliko godina, vratiti se u ovaj period i uživati u dogodovštinama i razmišljanjima Adrijana Mola. Čula sam da ih ima još cijeli serijal, možda nekad nastavim i dalje,..
August 11, 2021
I was reminded of The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Aged 13 3/4 (1982) by Sue Townsend when I saw it on Esquire magazine's list of 39 Of The Funniest Books Ever Written:
https://www.esquire.com/uk/culture/bo...
I remember enjoying The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Aged 13 3/4 when it came out in the 1980s. Having now reread it, I am delighted to report that, whilst some of it has not dated too well and feels anachronistic, it's still very amusing.
Adrian's uptight personality and judgemental tone, which results in some splendid parent/child role reversal scenarios, remains clever and funny.
I only ever read this one to discover that the series ultimately stretched over eight books, finishing off with 2009's Adrian Mole: The Prostrate Years, five years before author Sue Townsend's death.
I wonder whether the subsequent volumes maintain the same level of humour and charm? Has anyone read them? I'll certainly give the next in the series a read - The Growing Pains of Adrian Mole (1984).
4/5
More about The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Aged 13 3/4 (1982) by Sue Townsend...
Meet Adrian Mole, a hapless teenager providing an unabashed, pimples-and-all glimpse into adolescent life. Writing candidly about his parents' marital troubles, the dog, his life as a tortured poet and 'misunderstood intellectual', Adrian's painfully honest diary is still hilarious and compelling reading 40 years after it first appeared.
https://www.esquire.com/uk/culture/bo...
I remember enjoying The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Aged 13 3/4 when it came out in the 1980s. Having now reread it, I am delighted to report that, whilst some of it has not dated too well and feels anachronistic, it's still very amusing.
Adrian's uptight personality and judgemental tone, which results in some splendid parent/child role reversal scenarios, remains clever and funny.
I only ever read this one to discover that the series ultimately stretched over eight books, finishing off with 2009's Adrian Mole: The Prostrate Years, five years before author Sue Townsend's death.
I wonder whether the subsequent volumes maintain the same level of humour and charm? Has anyone read them? I'll certainly give the next in the series a read - The Growing Pains of Adrian Mole (1984).
4/5
More about The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Aged 13 3/4 (1982) by Sue Townsend...
Meet Adrian Mole, a hapless teenager providing an unabashed, pimples-and-all glimpse into adolescent life. Writing candidly about his parents' marital troubles, the dog, his life as a tortured poet and 'misunderstood intellectual', Adrian's painfully honest diary is still hilarious and compelling reading 40 years after it first appeared.
January 15, 2018
Ova recenzija je u suštini topla preporuka. Pisana je za Dominikov izazov u Delfi kutku.
Ljubav, iz koje će se mnogo kasnije roditi ideja o dečaku Adrijanu Molu, desila se kada je osmogodišnja Sju Taunzend dobila zauške. Primorana da leži u krevetu i jede toplu supu, mala Sju se zabavljala čitajući knige o dečaku Vilijamu Braunu i njegovim avanturama. Tako je spisateljica Rihmal Krompton, koja je pisala o legendarnom Vilijamu, nesvesno uticala na nastanak još jednog jednako upečatljivog književnog lika – Adrijana Mola.
Taunzendova je počela da tajno pise još sa 14 godina, ali je svoj prvi roman Tajni dnevnik Adrijana Mola izdala tek sa 36 godina. Knjiga o prvim mukama i nedoumicama jednog pubertetlije je doživela vrtoglav uspeh i proglašena je za najcitaniju knjigu te decenije. Usledilo je još osam veoma uspešnih nastavaka, od kojih je poslednji izdat 2009. godine, pet godina pre nego što je Sju Taunsend preminula.
Tajni dnevnik Adrijana Mola je to što mu i samo ime kaže –dnevnik. Roman je pisan u formi dnevnika jednog tinejdzera, jezikom jednog tinejdžera i brzo se čita iako niste jedan tiejdžer. Adrijan Mol nas vraća u pubertet i tera nas da, smejući se na sav glas, sa njim prodjemo kroz sve bolno neprijatne faze: bubuljice, mutiranje, otekle bradavice...Tu je i nimalo zanemarljiv problem polucije (hvala Leksikonu stranih reči i izraza) i stresa koji sa sobom nosi prva ljubav.
Ovo je knjiga koja će nas podsetiti koliko smo bolno stidljivi bili, a koliko spremni da radikalno branimo svoje ideale, koliko smo nerazumno voleli i koliko nas nisu razumeli. Knjiga koja će nas nasmejati do suza, a usto vreme naterati da se zamislimo kada smo to odrasli, a da nismo ni primetili.
Ljubav, iz koje će se mnogo kasnije roditi ideja o dečaku Adrijanu Molu, desila se kada je osmogodišnja Sju Taunzend dobila zauške. Primorana da leži u krevetu i jede toplu supu, mala Sju se zabavljala čitajući knige o dečaku Vilijamu Braunu i njegovim avanturama. Tako je spisateljica Rihmal Krompton, koja je pisala o legendarnom Vilijamu, nesvesno uticala na nastanak još jednog jednako upečatljivog književnog lika – Adrijana Mola.
Taunzendova je počela da tajno pise još sa 14 godina, ali je svoj prvi roman Tajni dnevnik Adrijana Mola izdala tek sa 36 godina. Knjiga o prvim mukama i nedoumicama jednog pubertetlije je doživela vrtoglav uspeh i proglašena je za najcitaniju knjigu te decenije. Usledilo je još osam veoma uspešnih nastavaka, od kojih je poslednji izdat 2009. godine, pet godina pre nego što je Sju Taunsend preminula.
Tajni dnevnik Adrijana Mola je to što mu i samo ime kaže –dnevnik. Roman je pisan u formi dnevnika jednog tinejdzera, jezikom jednog tinejdžera i brzo se čita iako niste jedan tiejdžer. Adrijan Mol nas vraća u pubertet i tera nas da, smejući se na sav glas, sa njim prodjemo kroz sve bolno neprijatne faze: bubuljice, mutiranje, otekle bradavice...Tu je i nimalo zanemarljiv problem polucije (hvala Leksikonu stranih reči i izraza) i stresa koji sa sobom nosi prva ljubav.
Ovo je knjiga koja će nas podsetiti koliko smo bolno stidljivi bili, a koliko spremni da radikalno branimo svoje ideale, koliko smo nerazumno voleli i koliko nas nisu razumeli. Knjiga koja će nas nasmejati do suza, a usto vreme naterati da se zamislimo kada smo to odrasli, a da nismo ni primetili.
November 13, 2020
Ovo mi je sad bilo idealno. Želela sam da se malo odmorim i čitam nešto laganije, a ovo je odgovaralo opisu.
Adrijan Mol ima 13 godina i pratimo njegov dnevnik. Knjiga je smešna i realna, priča o problemima sa kojima se tinejdžeri često suočavaju. Žao mi je što ga nisam čitala kao mlađa. U svakom slučaju, Adrijan je mali, ali inteligentan i brižan i iako isprva nisam mogla da se povežem sa trinaestogodišnjim dečakom koji odrasta 80-ih godina u Britaniji, brzo sam se vezala za njega i glasno smejala na svakih par strana.
Adrijan Mol ima 13 godina i pratimo njegov dnevnik. Knjiga je smešna i realna, priča o problemima sa kojima se tinejdžeri često suočavaju. Žao mi je što ga nisam čitala kao mlađa. U svakom slučaju, Adrijan je mali, ali inteligentan i brižan i iako isprva nisam mogla da se povežem sa trinaestogodišnjim dečakom koji odrasta 80-ih godina u Britaniji, brzo sam se vezala za njega i glasno smejala na svakih par strana.
May 25, 2020
Exceptional, every time.
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