Rating: 
Summary: A first-rate second novel!
Review: "Second novels are the very devil," Stephen Fry once said about his latest concoction, "The Hippopotamus." It is definitely a departure from his first novel, "The Liar." The humor is not always so subtle, and you may find yourself actually laughing out loud while reading certain passages! This story revolves around Ted Wallace, a boozy, womanizing, oversexed ex-poet and drama critic who finds himself canned from his newspaper job and is quite obviously sore at the world for not appreciating his genius. This Mr. Wallace, who would like nothing more than a "quick shag in the shrubbery with a domestic," is offered a princely sum, enough to get back on his feet anyway, from a terminally ill woman (or so she claims) who wants Ted to spy on his godson's family. (Everyone is related in some fashion or another.) This godson supposedly has supernatural healing powers, and the woman wants to know if he can cure her. Ted's mission, (he chose to accept it), leads him to the family manor where he encounters the most bizarre family he has ever seen. And Ted, pompous as he is, thought he had seen it all! At this point the story sags a bit, and the New Age-y healer idea can be a bit much. Purportedly Stephen Fry is an agnostic, which explains the replacement of Divine Healing with the Boy Healer. But all things considered, "The Hippopotamus" remains very readable, and retains its humor until the end
Rating: 
Summary: Wicked!
Review: After the quasi-autobiographical sprawl of The Liar, Stephen Fry comes in this book much closer to the mark. Where The Liar had smart-arse remarks and blatant schoolboy grossness, The Hippopotamus delivers a much more sophisticated and ultimately funnier brand of mayhem. I would truly hate to cross Fry, as he has an almost supernatural gift for invective, as well as a scarifying wit. Those who have read Paperweight will also know that he has learnt the enviable traits of commonsense and tolerance. Above all, he displays in this book the imagination and linguistic bravado that is the real reason he has so many devoted followers. Ted Wallace acts as so many of us wish we could - with total indulgence of himself, and of others. We snigger at his failings as much as at his jibes. The accompanying characters are as colourful as could be hoped, and the frenetic pace is continued more or less up to the end. It is common in these sort of "comic novels" that they begin in a blaze of satire, and peter out after 100 pages or so (Barry Humphreys' Women in the Background or Adrian Edmonson's The Gobbler are but two examples) and it is with relief that I can say The Hippopotamus is not among their number. I had a very indulgent laugh with it!!!
Rating:
Summary: Bad in so many ways
Review: Awful, awful, awful. I really expected to enjoy this book; THE LIAR is my absolute favorite novel. But this is Fry at his most depraved, ugly, and self-absorbed. Ever heard the word "unprintable," Steve?
Rating:
Summary: The Hippo
Review: Fry is probably better known as an actor; Meg Ryan's snooty boyfriend in "IQ" and the sharp-as-a-razor Inspector in "Gosford Park."This book has at least one moment of utter depravity. Readers be warned. It is both clever and hilarious in the tradition of a Monty Python script, with a sophisticated twist. I can imagine Ted Wallace contemplating the following dilemma: Consider a mild form of benevolant even-handed puritanism with a lower case(p) might be o.k. in the world as long as people recognize that it can be a useful tool, not an end in itself.
Rating: 
Summary: Still fun
Review: Fry's second novel, The Hippopotamus, isn't quite the romp of the first. Some of this is due to the linearity of the plot, the third-personness of its many epistolary sections, but even more, I think that Fry had spent his wild oats in the first, and took a more leisurely approach to this second. Again, the title refers to the main point-of-view character, in this case a failed poet cum editor cum reviewer named Ted Wallace. The story opens with Wallace being sacked from his most recent post of drama columnist, and we soon learn Wallace's views on both drama, newspapers, and the power of alcohol. While wallowing in self-pity, Wallace finds himself drawn into being a different sort of cynic by the machinations of both of his godchildren. Like The Liar, the plot of The Hippopotamus has its sharp right angles. There is no direct subplot here, but there are many tales within other tales and background that is necessary to fill in before we achieve the climax. A previous reviewer compared Fry's novels to Monty Python, and the comparison is entirely appropriate. While nothing like the actual content of the Pythons, Fry has assumed the mantle of their irreverent and, at times, illogical way of approaching traditional media. In these novels, Fry commits most every sin that the pedantical English Lit clergy have made canonical. The fact that the books are still enjoyable indicates to me that he had malice aforethought. Given the strength of these works, I sincerely hope that Fry never achieves Hollywood stardom, thus depriving us of any more of these wonderful bits of crime.
Rating:
Summary: "Once again we become part of the great compost heap."
Review: In the comic novel "The Hippopotamus" Ted Wallace is a divorced, middle-aged, overweight poet-turned-theatre critic. He isn't exactly at the pinnacle of his career when he's abruptly fired for heckling at the stage on opening night. Ted heads for the Harpo Club, and torn between celebrating and drinking away his sorrows, he runs into his goddaughter, Jane. Jane, apparently, is dying from Leukemia, but she makes a strange bargain with Ted. She offers to pay Ted a quarter of a million pounds if he goes to Swafford Hall--the home of the millionaire Michael Logan. Ted is also godfather to Michael Logan's son, David, so Ted is supposed to use the family connection to pry his way in. Jane says she will pay Ted to report back his observations back to her. Ted, who is a bit short of money, agrees. The majority of the novel is set at Swafford Hall--the home of the Logan family, and author Fry finds ample material to lampoon with his rather vicious sense of humour. Critics compared Fry to several other authors, but after finishing the book, I would have to say that the book seems very Benny Hill-ish in many aspects. The style of humour here is not for everyone--it's a unique mixture of almost adolescent, innocent naughtiness blended with snide, ribald and nasty comments. For example, there's a story of a man who farts as he's knighted, but there's also enough here to offend almost anyone. Ted waxes on at length about his various theories of poetry, desire, women, designer lettuce, and anal retentiveness. The novel is at its best when Ted gives free rein to his true, savagely funny nature. The book includes many hilarious characters--ex-priest--Oliver Mills ("He's seen the dark ... and defrocked himself"), Dr Fraser ("Never mind your rancid second-hand ideas of Bohemia"), and Patricia (with "thighs unpitted by cellulite"). Ted's cavalier attempts at seduction left me in stitches, and he's not a bit rebuffed when he's told, "what makes you think I would consent to be slobbered over by you?" The dinner party at Swafford Hall with many of the snobby locals was one of the funniest things I've read in ages. The novel is part epistolary and part narration--but all entertaining. On the down side.... The humour in comic novels relies largely on the reaction of the characters to events in their lives, and this presents a major problem for the novel. Ted is hilarious--no doubt about it--but the backdrop story is NOT funny. The bestiality and the 'miracles' did nothing for me, and although Ted was marvelously amusing--even his wickedly funny view of the world ("there has been a relentless and disturbing rise in moral standards over the years") could not compensate for the un-funny bottom line of the plot. I really enjoyed "The Hippopotamus." I read it in record time and laughed and shook my head over the sheer audacity of some of the statements the author boldly put in print. However, that said, one star deducted for basing all this wild humour on something so tragically un-funny. I really wanted to give this book 5 stars, but the flaw is too big for me to overlook. Nonetheless, it is not easy to find really funny books--so I recommend it--flawed though it is--displacedhuman ,
Rating:
Summary: A great Hippo with an unpleasant end.
Review: Mr. FryÕs novel succeeds in being shocking . It succeeds in being funny. It succeeds in presenting very human characters and a very deep story. It fails, however, to inspire us. A bloody shame about that, too, because it could have done just that. Could a 15 year old boy have miraculous powers to heal the sick? ÒThe HippopotamusÓ would at first seem to be about that very subject, but the novel does not attend to that theme too religiously. The story is about friendship, parents, family, sex, sibling rivalry, Jewish identity, illness, and of course, a horse named Lilac. And poetry. Poetry, poets, poems, all are the anchor of the novel in its ever shifting array of surprises. Mr. Fry effortlessly takes us from one perspective to the next, using letters, first person narrative, moments of historical review, and even a fax or two. We are taken through the story of Ted Wallace losing his job and winding up at luxurious Swafford Hall to see if his godson David can really heal the sick and dying. There are moments that will make you laugh out loud- and get strange looks from other people on the train sipping their lattes, if you read this on the train as I did. The vocabulary is remarkable and the story builds brilliantly, with moments that will make some people rather queasy. The conclusion of the novel is the only place where ÒThe HippopotamusÓ leaves us less than amazed. The final twist of the plot, while neither trite nor clichŽ , does not have the impact we think it will. The conclusion is not cynical, but it fails to go beyond ending the story. The ending is the one flaw of the book, and it does detract significantly from the overall pleasure of reading such a well crafted work. This is not a comedy book, as others may present it, although it is very funny at times, reflecting Mr. FryÕs multiple talents . However, the conclusion fails to match the fireworks that proceed it, which is what keeps ÒThe HippopotamusÓ from being Òa must read.Ó
Rating:
Summary: Absolutely Brilliant
Review: Stephen Fry is a comic genius. Ed Wallace-an out of work poet-is sent on a mission to find out the secret healing powers of his God son Dave. From there on we are taken on a rollar coaster ride of insanity. A lot of vivid sexual references,so for the easily embarrassed by this sort of behavior beware, this is not for you,for Davey's healing power is more than a touch. Extremely funny with Laugh out loud parts. I must also say Stephen has a gigantic vocabulary. Overwhelming at times. A very bright individual.
Read the book and prepare to laugh.
Rating:
Summary: Great 2/3s of a Novel
Review: Stephen Fry is a very amusing guy and he's created one of the truly memorable modern comic characters in the figure of Ted Wallace. Think of a cross between Dylan Thomas at the dyspeptic end of his career and The Ginger Man, and you'll have some notion of what you are in for. Lots of great, misanthropic musings on the fallen state of civilization, with several screamingly funny throw away lines inserted here and there like verbal land mines. At several points in the first two thirds of the book I had to put the book aside and laugh (to the point of tears) for a full five minutes at a time. Fans of the Larry David show on HBO would enjoy Ted. Like Larry, Ted is a person that most everyone hates, yet he nevertheless remains likeable, somehow. He's a complete boor to his children, his ex, his employers, his friends, yet his sense of humor keeps the reader thinking that somewhere beneath the blubbering bombast there has to be a shred of humanity remaining. As the novel progresses, more and more shreds are revealed. This is part of the problem. Ted, the wise-cracking curmudgeon, is much more interesting and entertaining than Ted, the suddenly avuncular, caring godfather and father of the last few chapters. Likewise, Fry's plot, which holds up fairly well the first two thirds, unravells rather disappointingly in the finale. One more instance of a very clever writer having a bit of navigating difficulties when it comes to satisfying resolutions. I'd much rather Ted had stayed in character and had kept on being his unpleasant self, with the possibility of Fry picking up the character in subsequent books. I don't see that possibility here. AS for other aspects of the book, some work, some don't. The epistlatory format is hit and miss. These are some really looonnngg letter writers. The minor characters are more charicatures than fleshed out, believable figures, though this is one of the marks of satirical writing in general and not that big a distraction. Some of the female characters, in particular give Ted every bit as good as they get in terms of verbal skirmishes. A gay character gets to be tiresome with his mannered expressions. He starts out funny, but he's definitely not what could be termed a sympathetic character, by any stretch. While The Hippopotamus doesn't hurl Fry into the front ranks of modern British satirists, it is a very decent effort. Though it is decidedly uneven, I have no problem recommending it as an often funny, entertaining read. 4 1/2 Stars. BEK
Rating:
Summary: Able writing. Definitively gratuitous immorality
Review: There's much to like and enjoy in this book - what a pity there's also Fry's mandatory offensiveness. It's as if you were being taken through a lovely and fascinating house, but now and again have to scrape crap off your shoes because the owner, who otherwise has admirable taste and resources, unaccountably feels that he should defecate here and there throughout the place to show his cheeky wit or worldly sophistication. A nicer analogy would perhaps be to say it's like having to suffer drunken noisy yuppies talking over a fabulous jazz band because they refuse to play in a concert hall - the experience is really undermined by the context. But if Fry was choosing between the two analogies, he'd take the turd every time. The Hippopotamus, at least, unlike The Liar, doesn't scrupulously ensure some adulterous reference or activity every few pages, however Fry forces some definitively gratuitous perversion into the plot. The book would have worked perfectly (indeed, far better) if David felt his 'gift' could work through innocent touch, but Fry's hardly incontestable preaching that any sort of sexual activity (sodomy, adultery, fornication, casual, minors, promiscuity, prostitution, bestiality, seduction...) is at worst utterly harmless, and probably beneficial, is the ugly cost of spending much time with his narrative or characters. In most writers that would be enough to see me dismiss the book entirely - why put yourself in such deliberately offensive company? This question is more than rhetorical, however, as my 'B' grade is meant to reflect the level of ambivalence I have in recommending it. That being said, given the overt and considerable flaws of content and philosophy, there must be some pretty damn redeeming features. Such as his central character. He's well drawn and likeable - a clever trick given that Ted himself would have the honesty to admit that he's an appallingly selfish old dissolute mongrel. Here and there among all the fabulously rude invective we're allowed to be won over by little examples of his subtle consideration for the underdog. His trenchant diatribes are often thoroughly enjoyable. Moreover the supporting cast are ably painted, and the dialogue in, for example, the big dining scene, powerful and driving. Moreover we get the occasional Lodge-like added pleasure of the same event from differing perspectives. The setting and plot turn out to happily borrow much from a classic English mannered detective story: there's a mystery, new sensational 'crimes' keep popping up to drive us along (in this case miraculous healings), and our prescribed set of characters interact in a wealthy country house. The climactic revelation - the traditional detective taking his pleasure in unravelling the crime to his decreasingly sceptical audience - ties the book together well enough (not brilliantly, but far better than the scratchy mess of the resolution of The Liar). There's still the deus ex machina of most crime books - the frustrating way events the reader could not possibly be aware of (such as Jane's condition) confirm the detective's otherwise wild theory - but this is bearable. And finally, stylistically Fry is wonderfully readable. His prose (occasional content aside) is generally a pleasant ride - not Wodehouse or Adams, but not needing to be, and not suffering from the comparison. I can see how some would relish his books - all the philosophical and sexual bias that put me off would give sympathisers enormous pleasure: what could be more fun than bashing believers and eulogising rampantly promiscuous gays? And over-indulging an over-the-top character like Oliver would be like having an extra helping of dessert - fine if you haven't been feeling nauseous since it initially appeared. And while this might be an inflammatory line to take, it's monumentally ironic that anyone could dare take offense from any attack on a book so deliberately inflammatory and offensive to any Christian reader. So, there you go. I dare say my reaction is not entirely dissimilar to that of Fry who probably loves much of the work of the many high profile pro-heterosexual fidelity devout protestants in the western literary tradition, but finds the underlying assumptions of their admirable works a bitter pill to have to endure along the way.
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