Mother for Dinner

De: Shalom Auslander

Narrado por: Shalom Auslander

‘Extremely funny, weirdly touching and acute about families’ – Guardian
‘Daring, provocative and controversial . . . a work of genius’ – Scotsman
‘Terrifically funny . . . Close-to-the-knuckle farce with a big beating heart’ – Daily Mail

Seventh Seltzer has done everything he can to break from the traditions of the past, but in his overbearing, narcissistic mother’s last moments, she whispers in his ear the two words he always knew she would: ‘Eat me’.

This is not unusual, as the Seltzers are Cannibal-Americans, a once proud and thriving ethnic group, but for Seventh, it raises some serious questions. Of practical concern, she’s six-foot-two and weighs over thirty stone – even divided up between Seventh and his eleven brothers, that's a lot of red meat. Plus, Second keeps kosher, Ninth is vegan and Sixth is dead. To make matters worse, even if he can wrangle his brothers together for a feast, the Can-Am people have assimilated, and the only living Cannibal who knows how to perform the ancient ritual is their Uncle Ishmael, a far from reliable guide.

Beyond the practical, Seventh struggles with the sense of guilt and responsibility he feels – to his mother, to his people and to his unique cultural heritage. His mother always taught him he was a link in a chain, stretching back centuries. But he’s getting tired of chains.

Shalom Auslander's Mother for Dinner is an outrageously tasty comedy about identity and inheritance, the things we owe our families and the things we owe ourselves.

The new book by the author of Hope: A Tragedy – ‘the funniest novel of the decade’ Sunday Times

Reseñas de la Crítica

Bad taste has a purpose in this outrageous satire . . . grotesque, extremely funny, weirdly touching and acute

Daring, provocative and controversial . . . the outrageous nature of the comedy is done perfectly . . . This is a work of genius. (Stuart Kelly)

Prize for premise of the year . . . a terrifically funny book . . . Close-to-the-knuckle farce with a big beating heart

I loved [it] . . . I think I devoured it in one sitting . . . riotous . . . I recommend you dig in (Neil Fisher)

Auslander is an <i>enfant</i> even more <i>terrible</i> than Philip Roth . . . it provides plenty of dark laughs and inspired comic riffs

Great fun . . . the conceit is inspired . . . retains the propulsion of true farce right to the end . . . surprisingly moving (Richard Godwin)

Brilliantly written, often hilarious but also deeply thoughtful . . . <i>Mother for Dinner </i>is not a joke by any means (beyond the basic notion)

A grotesque family comedy . . . Written in fast-moving, deadpan prose

Auslander uses <i>Mother for Dinner</i> to make serious points about everything from the blandness of modern society to religious extremism . . . But he does so with buckets of laughs and some very visceral description. The confidence with which Auslander drags the reader into this world is exemplary, and <b>you’re unlikely to read anything funnier this year</b> (Doug Johnstone)

<i>Mother For Dinner</i> is consistently funny, consistently wise and consistently disturbing in ways that probably only Shalom Auslander could arranger. It is a rare and agile narrative, part deftly-written, Cannibal satire, part moving exploration of identity and party truly concerning recipe book. Perhaps not a perfect gift for Mother’s Day, but then again, it could be just the thing (A. L. Kennedy, Costa Prize-winning author of Day)

Auslander turns his taboo-shattering satiric gaze to cannibalism in this outrageous, salty take on contemporary culture . . . more effective is the riotous dissection of cultural formation and a community's hunger for meaning.

Uproariously funny

Dead funny and dead serious. A deliciously appalling satire on the hazards of tribalism, religion and tradition – and eating your relatives. (Rhidian Brook, author of The Killing of Butterfly Joe)

Irreverent and written with Auslander's incomparable humor, <i>Mother for Dinner </i>is an exploration of legacy, assimilation, the things we owe our families, and the things we owe ourselves.