A Fraction of the Whole
Steve Toltz
Language: English
Pages: 576
ISBN: 0385521731
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Meet the Deans
“The fact is, the whole of Australia despises my father more than any other man, just as they adore my uncle more than any other man. I might as well set the story straight about both of them . . .”
Heroes or Criminals?
Crackpots or Visionaries?
Families or Enemies?
“. . . Anyway, you know how it is. Every family has a story like this one.”
Most of his life, Jasper Dean couldn’t decide whether to pity, hate, love, or murder his certifiably paranoid father, Martin, a man who overanalyzed anything and everything and imparted his self-garnered wisdom to his only son. But now that Martin is dead, Jasper can fully reflect on the crackpot who raised him in intellectual captivity, and what he realizes is that, for all its lunacy, theirs was a grand adventure.
As he recollects the events that led to his father’s demise, Jasper recounts a boyhood of outrageous schemes and shocking discoveries—about his infamous outlaw uncle Terry, his mysteriously absent European mother, and Martin’s constant losing battle to make a lasting mark on the world he so disdains. It’s a story that takes them from the Australian bush to the cafes of bohemian Paris, from the Thai jungle to strip clubs, asylums, labyrinths, and criminal lairs, and from the highs of first love to the lows of failed ambition. The result is a rollicking rollercoaster ride from obscurity to infamy, and the moving, memorable story of a father and son whose spiritual symmetry transcends all their many shortcomings.
A Fraction of the Whole is an uproarious indictment of the modern world and its mores and the epic debut of the blisteringly funny and talented Steve Toltz.
the bedroom door, with burning eyes and fatherly sneers. Here’s the thing: I had peered over the abyss, stared into the yellow eyes of death, and now that I was back in the land of the living, did I want sunshine? Did I want to kiss flowers? Did I want to run and play and shout, “To be alive! To be alive!” Actually, no. I wanted to stay in bed. It’s difficult to explain why. All I know is a powerful laziness seeped into me during my coma, a laziness that ran through my blood and solidified
was not simply the process of aging. I was turning into someone not myself. There was a loud noise outside. Someone or something was in the chicken coop. I looked out but couldn’t see anything from the window, only the reflection of my own slightly unfamiliar face. I turned off the light but even with the moonlight it was too black. The noises continued. I certainly wasn’t going to go out there to investigate. Who knew what creatures existed in the jungles of Thailand, and who knew how hungry
and from England or Northern Europe. It was decided that Kate Milton, the manager of the local cinema, should be diligent in procuring at least one new film every two months. It was unbelievable! But the real shock was to come. It was decided that plans should be immediately drawn up for an observatory to be built on Farmer’s Hill, and while the budget allocated was a paltry $1000, the spirit was there. I couldn’t believe it. They were really going to do it. Patrick decided that the box would be
And why shouldn’t I rationalize? Isn’t the benefit of evolution that we possess a rational mind? Wouldn’t the chicken be happier if he had one too? Then he could say to mankind, “Would you please stop chopping off my head to see if I will run around without it? How long is that going to amuse you?” I rubbed my head. I felt an existential migraine coming on, a real blinder. I went out and walked along the dark road into the town. With his newfound celebrity, Terry had given the criminal world a
man’s anchor. One swims, the other sinks, and in the swimmer’s pool too—a double insult. Meanwhile, the wind was threatening to toss me into the harbor. I knew then and there that pondering the significance of an action in the middle of the action is just not right. I climbed on. I could hear him now. Harry was yelling, the wind carrying his voice to me before I could even see his face. At least I think it was Harry. Either that or the wind had just called me a bastard. My shoe slipped. I