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2005-12-28 - 2:17 p.m.

The problem with literary parodies is that, even with a brilliant premise and good intentions, it's hard to sustain the laughs over the course of a whole book. (See Chris Elliott's promising but difficult-to-finish Shroud of the Thwacker.)

And the problem with "humor" books is that even if they're funny, they leave you with a sort of empty, post-candy feeling.

But today I read a book that is both a brilliant literary parody and a yuk-a-minute: Park Slope's own Francis Heaney's Holy Tango, wherein he creates anagrams of authors' names, and then writes a poem or dramatic scene based on the anagram, in the manner of that author.

The Robert Burns (Robber Runts) and Emily Dickinson (Skinny Domicile) ones in particular had me a-laffin'.

I have a skinny Domicile—
Its Door is very narrow.
’Twill keep—I hope—the Reaper out—
His Scythe—and Bones—and Marrow.
... (etc.)

The author has also done some song parodies, downloadable on the linked site.

thoughts? (5 comments so far)

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