Queenan Country : A Reluctant Anglophile's Pilgrimage to the Mother Country

Rating:
Summary: Queenan is hilarious and back to top form.
Review: Joe Queenan's articles in Spy magazine were some of the funniest things I've ever read. His humor has a dark cynical side and he seems to look down on everything in America outside of a few favored metropolitan areas. In _Red Lobster, White Trash, & the Blue Lagoon_, the humor and the attitude work well together as he examines some of the pop culture phenomena that literate and tasteful people avoid. _Balsamic Dreams_ is less successful; while the baby boomers deserve a lot of scorn, this book is more bitter than funny. _True Believers_, his book on sports fans, is very enlightening because Queenan is so ready to sneer at the tastes of average Americans, but shares their love of sports. _Queenan Country_ is also about love: his love for England, his English wife, and even his in-laws. Queenan's high culture references are relevant to his subject here and not just ironic counterpoint to horrible pop tastes. He is honest about his reactions to British literary classics and as willing to ask tough questions about them as he was when exploring trashy bestsellers in _Red Lobster_. He writes that when you push on a door in Britain, you are bound to find something wonderful and unexpected on the other side. I don't want to spoil the reader's pleasure in following Queenan through the door as he enjoys a range of delightful high and pop culture experiences by revealing any details. I laughed loudly throughout this book, not just out loud, but "what's wrong with him" loud. Queenan is quite willing to criticize the bad points in British society, but this book is quite upbeat and uplifting for him. This is must reading for any anglophile or anyone who loves to laugh. He is very funny citing Paul Theroux's _Kingdom by the Sea_; if you have enjoyed Paul Theroux or Bill Bryson, don't miss this book. I would love to read another book about Queenan's experiences in France.

Rating:
Summary: Well, he's clearly no Bill Bryson...
Review: As a longtime fan of---and traveler to---England, I was excited when I received this book as a gift. I had read Queenan's book BALSAMIC DREAMS and found it mildly amusing but a bit over the top. Not great literature, for sure, and not even necessarily good literature, mind you, but an easy read and not without charm.
Oddly enough I'd also just finished reading NOTES FROM A SMALL ISLAND, another book about England/Britain by a vastly superior author, Bill Bryson.
I found QUEENAN COUNTRY vaguely humorous but I also found it was rife with errors and rather mean-spirited. After all, as the self-appointed expert he claims/pretends to be, I frankly expected a more accurate account.
Honestly, and more power to him, but I have to wonder how such a book gets published in the dog-eat-dog literary world? I've read trip journals by friends that are far more engaging and considerably funnier than this one but they can't seem to find publishers interested in giving it a look.
Having said that I will also admit to having enjoyed QUEENAN COUNTRY at least to a minimum degree. More so, I believe, because I'm interested in reading personal observations of England than because the book was special in any way.


Rating:
Summary: Do not buy this book
Review: I have read some of this person's writing before but I don't remember it being one continuous rant against everything. This is one continuous diatribe against all things British, but American too. One wonders how he can stand to be in either country, and perhaps he shouldn't be. I had to stop after 75 pages. Perhaps that isn't giving it a fair chance but then be honest, how much can one person take? His name dropping, reference heavy, off the cuff, in your face sentences show he has read or been exposed to something. However he sure doesn't want that to happen to anyone else. Buy this book if you want, but you can sure have mine.

Rating:
Summary: So True...
Review: I recently took a trip (From my Urban home) into a vile little town in the Cotswolds (Instigated by the wife) and discovered that so-called pictureseque Britain was a foul, tourist infest (And car park riddled), hellhole that stank of chip fat bursting forth from the overpriced, junky pubs and pseudo-restaurants. The village square had a brass band playing "Bangles" hit songs. When I mentioned how vile, idiotic and loathsome this town (A major tourist spot) was (Complete with kebab house, Chinese takeaway) to other people I got looks of bemusement - "But it's a nice little place."

This book reminds of that experience. It's not just me. This book had me in stitches, and the author certainly speaks his mind. At last! Someone who hates Lloyd Webber and cretinious musicals based on crap 70s rock bands.

Rating:
Summary: A Disappointment
Review: I've read all of these reviews, and will just have to run the risk of someone calling me a "sourpuss" because as much as I was looking forward to reading this book, I found it a real disappointment. Let me explain.

I should say at the outset that I enjoy a good cross-cultural put down as much as the next fellow, and am not one of the overly sensitive, "political correctness at all costs" gang. In fact, I have an ongoing (good-humored) verbal joust going with a Brit who works with me; he makes fun of things American and I return the favor. Then I heard an interview with Queenan on NPR and thought he was a scream. And so I sent away for the book and opened it with great expectation for a ripping good time at the expense of my British friends. But frankly, I am now three-quarters of the way through it and have yet to have a really good laugh. I agree with the other reviewers, even those who like the book, when they say that it is full of "rants." Although they do not mean this as a warning, it should be. His approach to writing seems to move from "I really dislike (insert long list of people or behaviors," to "here is another list of British people/behaviors that really annoy me or that are simply stupid."

Want some examples of his deep, humorous, and wry insights? How about, "John Lennon's musical legacy is ludicrously overrated....Lennon's solo records generally stink." Deep; and very clever. And turning to Paul McCartney, he opines, "The good that had come from `I Saw Her Standing There' and `Please Please Me' had been supplanted by the evil of `Ebony and Ivory' and `Silly Love Songs.' Paul could be forgiven for the obstreperous hokiness of `My Love' and `Uncle Albert' (`Hands Across the Water'), but he could never be absolved of the harm he had wrought with `Yesterday' and `Michelle.'

His take on London theatre? "For decades, I had been aware of London's stature as a theatrical mecca for philistines..." After trashing Stones in His Pockets, he goes on to dump on Les Miz, Phantom of the Opera, Riverdance, and Mamma Mia!, among others. Of Alan Rickman's performance in Private Lives he says, "Rickman himself proved infinitely more annoying in person than he ever was on-screen - no mean feat." Of the play itself, "There are more laughs in a single act of Neil Simon than in all of Noel Coward."

Concerning Madame Tussaud's he says, "A nitpicker might object that the wax figures representing James Dean and Marlon Brando do not actually resemble them, that George Washington looks more like Billy Idol, that John Wayne is far too tall, Martin Luther King far too short, and Bard Pitt just a smidgen too simian. I personally question the proximity of Princess Diana to the pope, no less than the juxtaposition of Cybill Shepherd with Liz Taylor."

And so it goes for page after page. Rant after tedious rant. My point is not that he has no right to his opinion, or even that he is not correct on occasion. It's just that it's not funny. I'm finished giving him the benefit of the doubt by saying, "He just starts slowly." I'm writing it off as money wasted. Think I'll give it to my British friend.


Rating:
Summary: A satirical look at a trip to England
Review: Joe Queenan, the acerbic satirist on everything from Hollywood films to sports fandom, takes a crack at travel literature with his new book, QUEENAN COUNTRY.

Ever the sly wordsmith, a look at the dust jacket depicts the author --- four of him actually --- crossing a road (Abbey, perhaps?) in a homage to one of England's greatest exports, the Beatles. Four poses? A nod to the Royals? Four Queenan Country?

Queenan Country doesn't just discuss the difficulties in traveling around this ancient civilization. The Philadelphia-born and raised Irishman decries the necessity of torturing American schoolchildren with the works of Thomas Hardy, the Brontes, Charles Dickens, William Thackery and Jane Austen, among others: "At a very early age, I became aware that Great British Literature breaks down into three broad groups: books that are very depressing, books in which nothing happens, and books that are incomprehensible."

"Sacrilege" purveyors of fine fiction might bellow, but this is what Queenan does best: pull the rug out from under those he deems to be pulling the wool over our eyes, be it traditionally important writings, cinema, or history. For example: Why, he posits, does a nation that prides itself on civility seem to have so many historical characters who have employed the most horrid examples of torture (see Braveheart, aka William Wallace)?

Along the way, he also pokes fun at British cuisine, entertainment, soccer thugs, and the unfathomable logic of public transportation.

Queenan, whose previous books include IF YOU'RE TALKING TO ME, YOUR CAREER MUST BE IN TROUBLE; RED LOBSTER, WHITE TRASH, AND THE BLUE LAGOON; TRUE BELIEVERS; and BALSAMIC DREAMS, makes no bones about his avocation as a curmudgeon. "I am a crass American and I rather enjoy being one," he proudly declares. At one point, he compares his latest work to that of Paul Theroux:

"During his travels, [he] visited an almost unbroken chain of comatose little towns, and seems to have encountered every bigoted, stupid, parsimonious, or boorish person in the United Kingdom....Congenitally miserable myself, a writer whose sole source of income derives from shooting large, evil fish in a small, morally neutral barrel, this was my kind of reading."

To be sure, Queenan meets various cheap, mean, or clueless citizens. Were they the only ones he encountered? Probably not, but he has always been the sort whose philosophy seems to be "if you don't have anything nice to say, say it anyway because readers love to hear that kind of stuff." One potentially charming story, in which he finds himself searching for the Beatles' old residence, turns out to be a tale of deception at the hand of a duplicitous cab driver.

Queenan's wife is English-born, so he travels back to the mother land on occasion and sees things from a non-touristy point of view. The small town where his in-laws reside is described in the dreariest terms (as is most of the country, except on the rare occasion where the sun shines for several consecutive seconds).

For all his tough-guy posturing, he does show small pieces of sensitivity. At the conclusion of Queenan Country he describes the sadness he felt as he witnessed the funeral of the Queen Mother, shortly before his return stateside:

"Standing in the park as the drone of bagpipes receded into the distance, I was reassured by the thought that there would always be Highlanders, there would always be Coldstream Guards, there would always be the queen, there would always be an England.

"The alternative was simply not acceptable."

Maybe he's not such a tough guy after all.

--- Reviewed by Ron Kaplan ([e-mail])

Rating:
Summary: God save the Queenan!!
Review: The first test is simple: does it make you laugh? Don't just trust me on this; read the other reviews (except for one sourpuss), or better yet read any excerpt. The second test is how this book stands up against other satirists. Queenan is incisive and elegant. His prose is meticulous and the rhythms of his work are as good as S.J. Perelman or Robert Benchley. For some reason, the humorist of whom he often reminds me is Stephen Leacock, the now largely and unfairly forgotten Canadian writer. The third test is your own memory: you never forget Queenan's insights because he cuts to the quick of our absurd world. It may be as Juvenal wrote 2000 years ago that "It's hard not to write satire", but it's still difficult consistently to write it this well.

The fact that this one is more personal because Joe has a relationship with the UK (and his British wife) makes it his best work. You experience the UK today with all of its charms and warts, which means that you get to understand his love for the country. Queenan has trumped himself here; he's also written a dandy travel book that will have you thinking of what spots you must see -- and must avoid.

Rating:
Summary: The Reluctant Anglophile Comes Home
Review: Throughout his body of work, Joe Queenan has distinguished himself as an unapologetic appreciator of the finer things in life, but also able to cut through the crap to what really is worth his time. You may not agree with him, you may even find him tiring, but you will never find him dull.

Which is why I enjoyed the travelogue "Queenan Country", describing a solo trip the Bard of Philadelphia took to his wife's home country, to see it through his own bitter lens rather than as part of a familial obligation. What he finds is a country that is rather odd, but nonetheless intoxicating in its eccentricities.

Readers more familar with Queenans' bitterest works (I'm thinking primarily of Red Lobster, White Trash, and The Blue Lagoon) will be surprised at the degree to which Queenan actually has nice things to say about his erstwhile subject. But anyone who picked up Joe's most recent book (True Believers) is aware that his work has begun to take on a gentler tone. Perhaps it has something to do with age, or perhaps it's a result of his brief attempt at niceness (documented in "My Goodness", which I still have yet to read). Or perhaps, it's because Queenan has a genuine love for the British Isles that holds him back from ripping it to shreds. Whatever the reason, it would be fair to say that longtime readers might be dismayed by the kinder, gentler Joe Queenan.

But don't be fooled: Queenan does find things to bitch about. Hiking boots, revisionist tour guides, and football hooligans pop up, as do various other aspects of British culture that Joe could do without. The royal family, though slammed as a collection of dullards and even more dullards, gets off rather light, as does a faux "Beatles confidante" who leads Joe to believe that John Lennon was his best man (he wasn't). Again, are these signs that America's Favorite Literary Grouch is mending his ways? Probably not, but he is still engaging the sacred cows of culture.

Overall, this book is a love-letter to England, Queenan's adopted second home since his marriage, and it is fittingly mixed with admiration and chastisement to make a succulent pudding. The travels and travails that befall Queenan remain bizarre and fascinating, and there's a real (dare I say) heart to his look at the English. Whether he's attacking the pompous Shakespeare conspiracy theorists (after all, the Beatles weren't college-educated, and they made the best music ever), or asking about the matter of Edward II's "poker face", Joe Queenan is guarenteed to entertain. From this non-reluctant Anglophile, my thanks for writing this book.

Rating:
Summary: A bit dull
Review: Unlike most of the reviews I've read of this author and book (except the two here), I did not find much humor in this book and I didn't catch myself laughing out loud once.

Queenan does a good job covering a lot of what makes the UK great: general British history, culture and tourist attractions. However, this book reads more like a dry tour guide than a humorously endearing account of all quirks British, which is what I was hoping for and expecting after reading reviews.

I've given up after about 100 pages because I'm not interested in Queenan's bland retelling of his trip to the home of the Beatle's or his snide, unoriginal comments about Fergie, Madonna and other famous (infamous) British inhabitants.