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Tuesday, June 23, 2020

Confessions of an Irish Rebel by Brendan Behan

Dusty, cheap, falling apart paperback of Behan's 1965 swan song. Stinks of my father's bookcase.

I suppose at heart I am a daylight atheist, for I would not like to die without a priest.

I would not go within an ass's roar of her.

narrator gets in trouble for reading the following to his sick sister, from an olden book, not realizing that the s's looked lik f's ... remarkable for steeling eggs and fucking them ...

Lord Waterford is dead and the devil make his bed,
With an oven for his head, say the Shan Van Vocht.

[snuggling in an armchair with a girl] ... no two people ever slept in each other's arms ... I was as cramped as the crucified

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