The Autobiography of a Cad
is a hilarious mock memoir of the life and times of one Edward Fox-Ingleby. It ranges from his earliest memories of his father's Midlands estate, through Eton, Oxford, and the Great War, to his defining moment: his installation as a Tory minister in the 1930s. A rotter and a chancer of the first order, Fox-Ingleby will do anything to get what he
The Autobiography of a Cad
is a hilarious mock memoir of the life and times of one Edward Fox-Ingleby. It ranges from his earliest memories of his father's Midlands estate, through Eton, Oxford, and the Great War, to his defining moment: his installation as a Tory minister in the 1930s. A rotter and a chancer of the first order, Fox-Ingleby will do anything to get what he wants—power, money, and of course, lashings of the fairer sex. His memoir, an attempt to legitimize his detestable life, is prone to bouts of grand prolix and riddled with misogyny, bigotry, and more than the odd sleight of hand. Turning a perpetually blind eye to his devious and malicious acts, Fox-Ingleby chooses instead to portray himself as a gentleman misunderstood. But this despicable cad is always just one step away from having his Machiavellian plots uncovered, making this a marvelous tale of seedy intrigue.
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Hardcover
,
256 pages
Published
March 1st 2001
by Prion
(first published 1984)
A wry,somewhat bitter satire in the form of a character study, Macdonell's novel may be one of the best explorations of the reactionary/authoritarian personality ever put to paper. Fox-Ingleby, the titular cad, is a remarkable (if supremely hateful) character, part Bertie Wooster, part Flashman, part David Brent, and part Patrick Bateman; while busy praising his own moral and intellectual superiority, the great things he's achieved, and the adversi
Or, Portrait of the Total A-Hole as a Young Man.
A wry,somewhat bitter satire in the form of a character study, Macdonell's novel may be one of the best explorations of the reactionary/authoritarian personality ever put to paper. Fox-Ingleby, the titular cad, is a remarkable (if supremely hateful) character, part Bertie Wooster, part Flashman, part David Brent, and part Patrick Bateman; while busy praising his own moral and intellectual superiority, the great things he's achieved, and the adversities overcome, Ingleby is blithely unaware that his own words are undercutting the story he is trying to sell, and in fact are revealing him as the villain of this story. It is soon obvious that our 'hero' is an arrogant elitist, a hypocrite of mammoth proportions, a misogynistic philanderer, a moneygrubbing Scrooge, a pathological liar, a poor loser, and a coward. The book draws its power from the conflict between events and Ingleby's tortured interpretations of reality; a cad painting himself as a colossus, with his vices as virtues. In his own mind, he is a scion of English nobility, a war hero, a true friend, and indispensable to his country; in fact, Ingleby is a descendent of middle-class nouveau riche who bought their way into respectability, weaseled out of serving in WW1, picks and discards the people around him depending upon their usefulness, and is little more than a minor politician serving in an unimportant ministry; all the while hystericaly attacking anyone who does the right thing, gets on his bad side, or indeed,gets the better of him in any way as the enemies of civilization. It is this vile buffoon's ridiculous wrongheadedness that keeps the reader turning pages, even as we want to see the rat bastard beaten with axe handles. Despite being written in 1939, this is an all-too prescient work, foreshadowing the 80's 'me generation', and the 'tea party' of the present day; indeed, the overentitled nits busy screeching about socialism could hardly find a better spokesman than Edward Fox-Ingleby.
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A great satire written in 1939 that still has a full set of very sharp teeth. Edward Fox-Ingleby is a wonderfully despicable character, a virtuosic collection of condescension, smugness, self-satisfaction, and self-justified general horridness. His entire memoir is an epic mansplaining. Some people complain about books by saying "I didn't like the characters," as if enjoying reading about a character is somehow equivalent to liking a real person. I will point these people in a different directio
A great satire written in 1939 that still has a full set of very sharp teeth. Edward Fox-Ingleby is a wonderfully despicable character, a virtuosic collection of condescension, smugness, self-satisfaction, and self-justified general horridness. His entire memoir is an epic mansplaining. Some people complain about books by saying "I didn't like the characters," as if enjoying reading about a character is somehow equivalent to liking a real person. I will point these people in a different direction. They will not like Edward Fox-Ingleby, because he is awful. Well, yes, but so are many of the characters they see on television once a week, such as Donald Trump. This book is both a spot-on field guide to a kind of jackass that clutters up Washington and Wall Street to this day, and one of the funniest books I've read in a long time.
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