Just when you thought nothing original—truly original (I am,
after all, a semi-cynical bibliophile)—could be done with Hitler and his
legacy, along comes a story that blows the lid off. Finding a crack in a secret
history and tearing it wide open one utterly unpredictable page after another
is Ned Beauman’s 2010 Boxer, Beetle.
Written in wry, clever prose that generates scene momentum toward
the overarching storyline, Boxer, Beetle
is the story of Seth Roach, a 4-foot-11, nine-toed, Jewish boxer looking to
take his revenge on the idea of life in London of 1936. Boozing, whoring,
gambling and getting in fights in and out of the ring, Roach is a veritable
tornado of spite and gall. A unique physical specimen to say the least,
he draws interest from would-be scientist Philip Erskine in the the early going
of the novel. Offered 50 quid a day if he can be measured and observed
for eugenics research, Roach gives Erskine a slap to the face. But
erratic choices eventually drag him to the gutter, and Roach is forced to give
in to the service of Erskine. It takes learning
what Erskine is doing with a colony of exotic beetles from Poland, however, for
Roach to clue himself in to what precisely the word "eugenics" means...
In a parallel storyline set in modern times, Nazi
memorabilia collector Kevin Broom gets the surprise of his life when a fellow
collector asks him to look in on a friend who should have called back days ago.
Broom taking the bait, there is a nasty surprise awaiting him in the apartment,
but likewise too, a rare piece of memorabilia that Broom snaps up before a quick
exit. A rabbit hole he was always aware of but been able to avoid to that
point, the dark side of collecting Nazi relics comes knocking at his door soon
thereafter, and the grave of some unknown dead boxer named Seth Roach becomes of
prime concern.
Highly uproarious, highly original, highly readable, Boxer, Beetle is one of those books that
lures you in for style, grabs you for the singularity of the characters and
plot, and then sets you drooling for the manner in which they are made to dance
around one another. Roach is a despicable character, for certain, but you
still can't wait to find out what happens to him next. Erskine is even more
despicable, but perhaps in an innocently deluded way, something which makes
discovering his fate all the more satisfying. And Broom is just in for the ride
of his life—whether he wants it or not, so best to hang on to find out how the
whole scene coalesces.
The bottom line is, if you enjoy the work of Michael Chabon,
Nick Harkaway, or David Mitchell, then by all means check out Beauman’s
debut. Boxer, Beetle rips with the same lexical energy, the same tongue
and cheek sense of humor, and the same avaricious attack on plot and character,
to truly give the reader a compulsive yet memorable read. At least I won’t be able to forget Seth
Roach…
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