We waited approximately four years for this book, so it was with some trepidation that we entered its pages. For those of you who are wondering if And the Ass... is worth the price of admission, we are delighted to say that it is a most enjoyable read. The story itself is simple and arresting, and establishes an eloquent arena of both grandiose, operatic tragedy, and braying, hoarse laughter.

The major character, Euchrid, is a mute, and as one would expect, he is regarded by most of the township's citizens as the village idiot. The story is kind of about how Euchrid, an outsider in his own village, tries to live with his rejection.

Euchrid's world, all echo and rhyme,
all touched by shivers of hyacinth light"

Cave has created an expansive character in Euchrid; one is left with a concise and detailed knowledge of him, even though Euchrid's personality is revealed more by his indirect self-revelations rather than by chunks of tedious, authorly, explanatory self-description (as is so often the case with novels).

Of course, the marvel of all this is that Cave hasn't released a crummy, boring book to marr the intensity and fine variety of his past accomplishments in music.

It would be even true, I think, to say that the novel encapsulates much of Cave's subject matter throughout his career; for example, we have the drowning man from The Birthday Party's Swampland; and the heavy, heady atmosphere which hangs perilously close on his second album The First Born is Dead - particularly with regard to the second side.

From the fuge of sheer dada which was the Prayers on Fire album to some of his later work on Kicking Against the Pricks, Your Funeral... My Trial, and Tender Prey albums; elements of all of these can be found either chattering away in a small corner or forming twisted chunks of the structure itself.

Concerns which Cave first found himself interested in while he was in The Birthday Party are finally treated with the attention they deserve. The interaction between the everyday and the iconic is one such minor theme which runs concurrent with the main storyline. Cave's fascination with the manifest aberration residing in the Bible Belt of the USA forms the background, while the ritualistic isolation of the individual is very much in the foreground.

There are many of the basic ingredients which roast into black humour and the tragi-comic firmly embedded in the plot, the language, and in the general outlook of the central character. This seems to confirm an already suspected nod towards Pinter, Beckett and Faulkner. There are also recognizable stylistic influences and even fundamental principals entwining both the major thread of action as well as the general background. Blake and Jim Thompson are two examples of this. That's not to day, by the way, that And the Ass... reads like 'spot the influence'. EFFIGY just notices things like this. So, yeah, this is serious stuff, but it is also very funny.

The humour is somewhat slapstick and crude, but in context, it is not only highly effective but lends itself to many of the criss-crossing themes pacing through the narrative(s). Let's face it - within the confines of a jerry-built-life, a crude joke is right at home, and we're not just trying to defend some smut-head stand up comedian here. These jokes will bear up with repeated readings.

And for those of us who take pleasure in rereading a book then the use of a dictionary is going to be mandatory first time round. Such an effort will definitely be repaid the next time around.

The language of the book bears mentioning; those of us who found Cave's foibles and playfulness with the English language (interesting) will be most amused to realize that he frequently makes words up, using traditional sources such as Latin and Greek, plus various suffixes. If we put this sort of thing in one of our school essays, we'd get a comment to the effect that 'this essay reads very stilted'. Thing is, Cave is so consistent with it that the reading of the book will actually improve greatly with repetition. Also, and this can hardly have escaped his thoughts, wouldn't it be cool if some of the words he's made up were accepted into the language? After all, if an obscure mathematics prof with a penchant for little girls can do it, why not Nick Cave?

Having heard a few of Cave's readings from the novel accompanied by Mick Harvey and Blixa Bargeld (among others) we are wondering if the book will turn into an album of its own right, rather than the 12" EP given away with some copies of The Bad Seeds Tender Prey album. Perhaps a film score, a la Barry Adamson's Moss Side Story would be appropriate.

And the Ass saw the Angel is certainly the most widespread vision Cave has ever attempted; it's vistas beg for reintegration. Walter Hill should film it. Now if he follows up...

Reprinted with permission. Copyright by Robert Brokenmouth, 1988.
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