The world's Master of Far-Fetched Fiction takes us into the heart of theÌýDa Da De Da Da Code, whereinÌýlies the music of the angels—and the music of the devil. Aliens, flying saucers from hell, the Multiverse, the Illuminati—every wacky, way-out conspiracy theory ever heard areÌýall here, wrapped into a plot that will leave Dan Brown fans breathless, Michael Shea readers stupefied, and Raymond Khoury lovers incredulous.
"When Robert Rankin embarked upon his writing career in the late 1970s, his ambition was to create an entirely new literary genre, which he named Far-Fetched Fiction. He reasoned that by doing this he could avoid competing with any other living author in any known genre and would be given his own special section in WH Smith." (from Web Site Story)
Robert Rankin describes himself as a teller of tall tales, a fitting description, assuming that he isn't lying about it. From his early beginnings as a baby in 1949, Robert Rankin has grown into a tall man of some stature. Somewhere along the way he experimented in the writing of books, and found that he could do it rather well. Not being one to light his hide under a bushel, Mister Rankin continues to write fine novels of a humorous science-fictional nature.
Robert Rankin writes in a language that, at first, appears to be English. After reading for a while you realise that it isn't. Once you've adjusted your brain to this new language I like to refer to as Rankish you can follow and enjoy this novel. You might have trouble dealing with the real world with your brain in this state but good on you for trying.
- I enjoyed most of the slugfest scenes between the main character Johnny Hooker and his imaginary friend Mr. Giggles. Kinda reminded me of The Darkness' Jackie Estacado and his Darkling. - The epilog of the book provides you with a download link to an accompanying soundtrack, which is an awesome idea. Would've preferred to get this at the beginning or during the book though. - The general idea of the plot's not that bad.
What's been bad:
- The execution of plot and everything else. - The characters lack profile and you don't care for them at all. - The story skips and skips and skips and you constantly wonder about where exactly you are and what characters you're reading about. - There are ideas that just hang in the air during most of the novel and randomly get picked up at the end. - While new ideas that don't really fit the scene or progress get thrown in almost constantly. - Overall, it just tried too damn hard.
I wanted to like it but the book really made an effort to stand in its own way.
This is like the evil mustachioed twin of Terry pratchett. Similar zany British antics but racist, sexist, homophobic, islamaphobic, and just awwwwwful!
And Jonny shone the torch before him and found that little hatchway affair, switched off the torch and removed the hatchway affair. The hatchway affair lay behind a portrait of Sir Henry Crawford, many times great-granddaddy of the recently deceased James. This portrait hung over the fireplace in Princess Amelia's sitting room. And the little hatchway removed the eyes from the portrait, to be replaced by the eyes of Jonny Hooker. Just like in those old-fashioned movies, which sometimes starred Bob Hope. And didn't you always want to live in a house with a secret passage and a big portrait with the removable eyes that you could peer from behind, all secretive-like? You didn't? Well, shame upon you. Jonny Hooker always had, and he was loving this.
In this book is much concerning Robert Johnson, who met the devil at the crossroads and sold his soul in return for becoming the world's greatest guitarist, and also much concerning the and their influencing machine. But mainly it is the story of Jonny Hooker (guitarist in a local rock band, escaped mental patient , suspected murderer and fake park ranger) and the trouble he gets into when he decides to enter a competition to solve the Da-Da-De-Da-Da code.
The story is set in Brentford, in and around Gunnersbury Park, a local authority run public park that was once home to the Rothschilds, and the lady in the straw hat makes an appearance, along with Jonny's invisible friend Mr. Giggles, two park rangers called Kenneth Connor and Charles Hawtrey (not that Kenneth Connor and Charles Hawtrey), a police constable with a rocket launcher, and a very odd pub landlord.
One of Robert Rankin's best in my opinion.
'I've got Gunnersbury Park up on the screen now and, yep, looks clear of people, just some little heat signatures. Here, ah, yes. I can zoom in. Squirrels. Squirrels in the trees. How cool is this?' Constable Rogers agreed that it was cool. After all, squirrels are cool. Everyone knows that. They're not just rats with good PR.
A young musician troubled with mental health problems is presented with an opportunity to do the first meaningful thing of his life when he is invited to win a competition. Before long, he becomes embroiled in a conspiracy involving sinister evil powers, exploding heads, Robert Johnson and the devil's chord. What can it all mean?
This dreadfully-named book is more interesting for its peripheries than its content: it has an accompanying soundtrack album (with a peculiar steel drum blues track), and its villains, the Air Loom Gang, were a figment of the imagination (or were they?) of 1700s proto-schizophrenic James Tilly Matthews, a real person. However, I found the content more exasperating as I went on. Rankin's dabbling in steampunk and in the Toytown detective genre appeared to have reinvigorated him; here, he's back on his laurels. Moreover, there's a laddish tone to this one that I hadn't detected in previous books: cardboard female characters of 'Carry On' standard mean it doesn't pass the Bechdel test, and the mean-spirited references to "stone-cold bonkers" and "camel jockeys", admittedly in dialogue, feel like relics from the 70s. Low Rankin.
The story centres around Jonny Hooker, a young man living in North London who has an imaginary friend and plays in a band. One day he gets a letter telling him he’s won a competition, but investigating the source of this mysterious letter leads him to uncover conspiracies, musical trivia, secret societies, groupies and grisly murders.
I’d been quite disappointed with the last couple of Rankin books (couldn’t even finish Brightonomicon) so was hoping this would be a return to the page-turning form of earlier work such as the Brentford Trilogy. Unfortunately, it was not to be. The plot � such as it is � is nothing I haven’t read before and it all felt a bit tired and plodding.The jokes about story continuity were funny at first but then began to seem like an excuse for lazy writing because they were used far too often. All in all, it was an effort to finish this one.
The Da Da De Da Da Code tells the story about how Jonny Hooker attempts to unravel the mystery behind why so many musicians die at the age of 27, while saving the world and doing the usual sorts of things that Rankin's characters are fond of doing. The running gags are all here, there are many visits to pubs, ladies in straw hats, near constant banter between a main character and a sidekick. (In this case the side kick takes the form of a voice in Jonny's head, named Mr Giggles- as opposed to a drunken pal or a bean sprout etc). While I am generally a fan of Robert Rankin, this book is not up to his usual high standard. It starts of strong and has a proper ending but seemed to just spin in the mud for about 150 pages. If you want to start with Rankin, go with the Brentford series- beginning with the Antipope. Most of his stuff is better. 2/5
Rankin's oddball wit and humour occurs in droves in this wacky book about, no surprises, the forthcoming Armageddon. What it lacks is plot. The da-da-de-da-da Code is an amalgamation of old gags, renamed old characters and references to the plethora of Rankin books that paved the way to this one. It might even be suggested that Rankin just made this up as he went along, since that's how it reads. Yes, the trademark gags are here and there is some fresh material, however as a whole the book is tired and mostly redundant.
I bought it second hand. There is nothing else to read. The tr-tone might have developed into something different. It was a middling start until 'One week earlier' hit at the start of ch 2. Went down the scale real vast. Disembodied voice raving on and on about self-evident truths. I did not finish that page... if God manages to stay silent for ages and ages, why is it that I am expected to endure the prattle of disembodied wannabes like this who've no stakes at all in the outcome here. I will not waste my time.
There was a recurring racist joke in this book. A really ugly one. It was really taking me out of the story and I didn't feel like finishing the book just to see where the author was going with it. I gave up about halfway. I was otherwise enjoying the book, as I have all the other Rankin books I've read.
The author must have been smoking something� not saying it’s not original, just bloody weird, I have to say I skim read the last half, as the weirdness got a bit draining, but I did want to know what happened. Mmm, I’d say this book is marmite�. Not for me, straight back to the charity shop with this one.
You need to be fairly open minded for this book. I did enjoy it and parts of it did make me laugh but some parts I found near the mark which made me only give three stars - it's not politically correct in places.
Robert Rankin at the peak of his powers, I can't praise this highly enough. A perfect marriage of humour and speculative fiction, with added blues. There is nothing to dislike here.
"Okay, so it's all fun and games until someone loses a head, is that it, Mr. Rankin?" "N-no... that's when the fun and games start."
Or so it would appear, anyway. Rest assured that, whatever else he might be, is a much better writer—loads better; infinitely better, trust me—than the Author Who Shall Not Be Named Here, he whose bazillions-selling book is being loosely parodied in this novel. This particular farrago of plot inconsistencies and conspiracy theories actually, despite itself, makes sense once in awhile. And, on a word-by-word and sentence-by-sentence level, is actually, usually, a pleasure to read, even for one whose acquaintance with the Queen's English is more than nodding—in sharp contrast to its indifferently-literate prototype (which I have also read, by the way, in case you're wondering).
Except for one thing, that I suspect Rankin might've thrown in intentionally, just for faithfulness to the original's style, since it shows up twice in an otherwise well copy-edited book: to call something forth is to elicit, not "illicit" it!
Alas, I did not get to hear the songs that illicited (heh) the novel's near-Apocalyptic events... the enclosed CD was missing from the copy I checked out of the library. But I'm sure they were marvelous, in their way.
As is the book itself, in its way.
Jonny Hooker is a lad with problems. He's a bit of a loony, you see, prone to hallucinations both auditory and visual, and with an imaginary friend called Mr. Giggles who follows him around constantly and sometimes seems to know more than he does. Jonny's also a talented guitarist who plays in a heavy-metal jug and kazoo klezmer band called Dry Rot. In fact, on Friday next Dry Rot have a gig down at Jonny's local, The Middle Man... a pub which holds a Dark Secret (as well as a dark, secret corner...). Jonny picks up a piece of mail in the post... which turns out to be a printed invitation to solve something called the Da-Da-De-Da-Da Code and win a prize. This he determines to do, little knowing that everyone else in the village seems to have received a copy of the same letter...
Things get weirder from there... much weirder, and it's not always clear how much of what's going on is outside Jonny's head. It's all funny, in that particularly bloody-minded way that Rankin seems to've made his trademark; there's plenty of eldritch horror to go around, enough blood to garner a UK-18 rating, and the characters indulge in casual sexism, racism and homophobia that would, frankly, be worrisome if it seemed to be at all seriously intended. (Your mileage may vary on that part, but I was reassured by the fact that Rankin carefully rendered harmless the more troublesome words by translating them all into that dialect of Esperanto that involves replacing letters with asterisks.) But it's all in good fun, and all's well that (ulp) ends well, I suppose.
In short, is a bit of all right, even if it is unlikely to be turned into a blockbuster movie starring a Mr. T.Hanks.
Pretty typical Rankin, full of running gags, conspiracy theories, pop culture references, local colo(u)r, the impending end of the world, and absurd plots. The protagonist this time is Jonny Hooker, a paranoid guitarist who can't get his childhood imaginary friend out of his head, who gets wrapped up in mystery involving blues musician Robert Johnson and the Air Loom. There are several myths surrounding Johnson, one of the first known famous musicians to have died at the age of twenty-seven, and under mysterious circumstances at that, and who was said to have sold his soul to the Devil at a crossroads in exchange for his talent. According to this book, he made a thirtieth recording in London, called "Apocalypse Blues," which contained the sound of the Devil's laughter. Also mixed in is James Tilly Matthews, widely considered to have been a paranoid schizophrenic. He spoke of a mystical machine called the Air Loom (you have to love conspirators who incorporate puns) that could be used to cause pain or to influence the minds of heads of state. Several references to Matthews' ramblings are scattered throughout the novel, and the man in charge of the Air Loom is Rankin's recurring villain Count Otto Black. There's also quite a bit on the Devil's Interval, with mentions of how it's used quite frequently in "The Dance of the Sugar-Plum Fairy," and also appears in the opening theme for The Simpsons. There's a reference to my favorite band, They Might Be Giants, as well, although not a very positive one; I understand that Rankin's wife is a fan but he isn't so keen on them. , with songs performed by Rankin, his wife, and other musicians.
I came across this author while looking for something about Terry Pratchett. Google had somehow linked them (among others). I had never heard of this person! And we had two books of his right on our library shelves! I immediately checked them out. At the very beginning I could see the connection - the two rangers discussing the headless corpse. Well, one was talking about it while the other was tossing his cookies. This reminded me a bit of Sgt. Colon and Cpl. Nobbs. I settled in, although the headlessness made me a bit nervous. Then it turns out that the corpse is the lead character. And the lead character has some paranoid schizophrenia issues. That bit was deeply disturbing, none the less for being treated in a somewhat light-hearted manner. However, eventually it seemed that this whole world was surreal and that abolished my queasiness over the Man With Shaky Contact With Reality issue. And, in the end, I found the end deeply satisfying. Jonny Hooker plays guitar and has one of those childhood invisible friends, Mr. Giggles, who alternates between concern and devilment. Jonny has already won a prize, if he can solve the Da-Da-De-Da-Da Code. Unfortunately, history is littered with the headless bodies of those who have gotten involved. There's a conspiracy to End the World - can Jonny stop it in time? Very good dark comedy - you know what's at stake from the beginning, that as funny as the writing might be, the consequences are dire. Have moved on to more of Rankin. Oh, look! Audible has a lot of these ... read by the author!
The style of writing in this book took a lot of getting used to and is bloody ridiculous, most of the time i had no idea what anyone was banging on about.
I contemplated not finishing this book in the beginning but I ploughed through and found that the main plot is actually a really good mystery, it made me want to find out what happens to our main character Jonny. The music theme is really cool too I liked the robert johnson storyline the best, but there is just too much going on around simultaneously which makes for a confusing and annoying read.
I enjoyed the first half of this book but three quarters through i’d had enough of the nonsense, which seemed to get even more nonsensical as the novel progressed, once Elvis and the queen came into it I was ready for it to end. The last half of the book is really confusing, it jumps around from place to place and made my head spin trying to keep up.
I feel like the author was trying to make a humorous book but most of the jokes fall flat or are offensive just for ‘shock tactics� which isn’t my humor at all, I think I laughed maybe twice throughout the whole thing (not actual laughing either, just breathing slightly harder out of my nose)
The core story of the book is intriguing and the musical mysteries are a cool idea, but it falls short for me by being bogged down with bad jokes, confusing viewpoints and nonsense that doesn’t add to the story in any meaningful way.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
It took me forever to get through this one. When I started it last weekend, I got through the first half quickly, then it bogged down. I'm accustomed to better from Rankin, and I am fairly disappointed. Part of it is probably because they reveal on page one that our hero, Jonny, ends up floating headless in an ornamental pond. I kept thinking there would be a twist and it wasn't him, or his head was just invisible (there are invisibility suits - unreliable ones - that surface in the story. Jonny, who has an "imaginary" friend named Mr. Giggles the Monkey Boy, and a history of mental instability, gets a letter challenging him to solve the Da-Da-De-Da-Da Code and win... something. He doesn't know what, but feels he has purpose. This leads to learning of a mysterious song, previously unknown, by blues legend Robert Johnson, a secret meeting of super-secret world leaders (including Elvis), bumbling police, conspiracies aplenty, etc. But about half-way through it felt like it should be done already. Definitely not one of his best.
Robert Rankin has obviously carved out his niche enough, and has fans enough, that despite the contrary footnotes attributed to "Ed." in this work, he seemingly no longer uses an editor. So much of this book does not work. The sheer volume of (attempted) jokes, ridiculousness and way-out plotting is a shell game con-job. A dizzying blur of motion distracting the reader from the destination of the "pea": which, if we were to continue the metaphor, may be the central story, or the main character, or, I suppose, anything a typical novel might consider essential.
It's certainly a stylistic choice and another reader may well enjoy the rampant silliness, but with some very interesting and well-researched ideas at it's core, I found that this approach detracted from the story far more than it added to it.
Rankin is mad! Utterly, irredeemadly mad! But entertaining. There is a madness here that explains much in our world: a world ruled not by the controllers (including her Madge, Elvis, and Bob the Dog) but by those who control the controllers. It's all about music - the book even has a soundtrack (check the back of the book for the link - this should have been right up front so I could listen as I read). Be prepared to use the all-knowing Google if you are not up with the Devil's chord, Robert Johnstone, and the Sugar Plum Fairy (the devil made her do it). This book is for those who think Terry Pratchett and Douglas Adams are overly rooted in reality.
I'd have to agree with Rob and Bob. I've read at least 12 or so of Robert Rankin's books and I would have to say The Da Da De Da Da Code and The Toyminator were the weakest. The Toyminator had it's moments but The Da Da De Da Da Code relied too heavily on running gags that have carried previous books. I love Rankin's running gags but in previous efforts he has switched hilariously from one to another. Too much of the same in his last couple of efforts but still one of the funniest and one of my favourite authors.
I'm not sure if it's because I've read too many of Mr Rankin's books or if it's because the quality is waning but I've not enjoyed the last 2 that I've read, including this one. The plot - what there is of it - is all over the place. The characters are instantly forgettable and one dimensional and the humour is repetitive. I probably won't read any more of his books as I get the feeling that once you've read around half a dozen, the spell wears off. I may revisit one of the earlier ones to test my theory!