About book True Confessions Of Adrian Albert Mole (2003)
I have no idea how this book came to see the light of day (a wild guess: someone somewhere might have thought that it would be good to publish a random something in between two "regular" books), and I'm not going to search the web to find this out, because I think an average Adrian Mole novel is not as mind-boggling as a novel by Thomas Pynchon - i.e. it can usually be understood without perusing a Townsend-wiki. I mean - I guess I understand this book. And since I understand it, I cannot but wonder: what the hell is this incoherent, cheap stuff?The first part of the book mainly consists of excerpts from Adrian Mole's diary, coming from different eras of the protagonist's life. A couple of them are more or less funny, but they never make me laugh out loud, which is strange, because I've been known to laugh a lot while reading the first two Adrian Mole books.The second part mainly consists of the travel notes of Sue Townsend (or her fictional alter-ego): how she spent her time in Mallorca, and Russia, or how she experienced some random this-or-that. To be honest, Townsend isn't particularly funny here - or perhaps she developed a sense of humor which I don't find funny at all. Sure, I'm not into every kind of humor in the world, but I really find this strange, because, as I said, I distinctly remember that I used to find her kind of humor very funny in the first two Adrian Mole books.And then there's the third part: the childhood diary of Margaret Thatcher, written in the style of an Adrian Mole diary. Of course, Margaret Thatcher's childhood abounds in different kinds of joys and moral difficulties than the childhood of Townsend's immortal Adrian Mole. For instance, one of little Margaret's favorite pastime activities is reading books about chemistry; and she goes through a major crisis if she steals a single raisin from a bag of raisins; and she condemns her mother because she works a mere 16 hours per day. And on Mondays she says: "finally, it's a school-day again!" You get the point - she's portrayed as an abominable workaholic/perfectionist/moral champion, and everybody in their right mind makes sure to steer clear from her. Well, some of her diary entries are mildly (very mildly) comic, but in the end I don't like this at all. It's just too cheap, too direct, and not at all witty. Townsend did a much better job criticizing Margaret Thatcher in the first two books of this series.And if you're wondering how these three parts are connected - I would say: accidentally. Or perhaps not even that.
I had the feeling, as I settled in to reading True Confessions of Adrian Albert Mole, that Sue Townsend had a number of ideas for sequences, but none of them quite fit into a full-length novel. Thus this entry. That's not a complaint, but the book is not entirely Adrian, and Adrian's sequences skip spaces of time. Those expecting an "All Adrian" entry in the series may be disappointed. The book starts just about where the second one left off, and then segues into essays set up as radio broadcasts, permeated with Adrian's trademark self-delusion. Then Sue Townsend offers several pieces based on her own life, the most amusing being about her love of England. The third segment consists of a "newly-discovered" set of diary pages from one Margaret Hilda Roberts. The conceit is that they are undated, but are suspected to be from the early years of WWII. This is the weakest portion of the book, because Margaret is tremendously unlikeable and the writing lacks the humor that infuses Adrian's sequences. Finally, the funniest sequence is a letter from a mysterious citizen asking for help in getting people to like her. This piece is sheer brilliance, and if it fit in no other book, I'm glad Ms. Townsend released this one so that she'd have a way for us to read it.
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True Confessions of Adrian Albert Mole turned out to be a mostly entertaining read, although for the most part I was terribly confused. There were characters that I didn't know about, and the plot made no sense to me, although it soon occurred to me that I was reading the third book of the installment as opposed to the first one. I finished reading it and in the end it made a bit of sense, although I wish I had read the first one instead. The formality of the writing however, did make it a slightly tedious read, but some of the humour made up for it. Although it was tiring, it only took me a day to read. Overall: 2 stars.
—Eilidh Macleod
*sigh*After waiting patiently for this next installment of everyone's favorite angsty, self-inflated British teen to arrive from InterLibrary Loan, I was given roughly 80 pages of Adrian - not all of it new to faithful readers. *double sigh* Seriously, Sue Townsend?! I waited for THIS?Yes, some of it was delightful - but too brief and not at all fulfilling. The rest of the novel is devoted to an essay by the author *yawn - quite literally - YAWN* and then the diary of a teenaged Margaret Thatcher. I skimmed Sue's essay, and read through Margaret's account, but I was ultimately uninterested in both. After all, I wanted more Mole - not all this filler designed to lure readers in and then frusterate them beyond belief.The next Mole installment has been requested. I just hope there is some substance here with this next read. I feel duped. I feel mad. I feel cheated that I bought into this disaster. Here's hoping #4 isn't so disappointing. I really don't want to stray from loving this series, but this book left a bad taste in my mouth.
—Anna Janelle
I never thought I would be giving Adrian Mole a single star, but here it is.Having re-read the first two, this was the first 'new' Mole for me, and I want a refund. Really, I do. I have never felt that before, not even with the dreaded 50 Shades of Hell, as a read is a read, right? Even the worst books have something to offer. But this book is not what it purports to be - it is a glossed over, rushed mash-up of major events in Adrian's life. It's so hurried, so matter-of-fact, that it almost doesn't feel liks Adrian's voice at all. The rest of the book is padded out with the utterly inexplicable ramblings of Sue Townsend and Margaret Thatcher, and I don't remember wanting to buy a book about either of those.I can only hope 'The Wilderness Years' gets things back on track.
—M
