Satire: 'There's a big world out there and it's full of birds who want to be with Ross O'Carroll-Kelly," remarks Paul Howard's obnoxious southside Dublin creation in this latest instalment of his satirical and only marginally exaggerated take on the Celtic Tiger "Dort" generation.
However, this time around, Ross discovers that life is slightly more complex and unpredictable than he imagines. His marriage to his long-suffering fiancée, Sorcha, has lasted less than two hours before a shocking revelation by one of the waitresses at the reception that he is, in fact, the proud father of a seven-year-old boy, the result of an indiscretion with the aforementioned waitress, whose family he was living with as part of a "cultural" exchange programme between his old school Castlerock and one in what Ross graciously refers to as "Knackeragua".
Left "stranded" in his plush suite in the Berkeley Court, Ross is forced to become pro-active about his life, acknowledging that "where once there was laziness suddenly there was whatever is the opposite of laziness". As well as trying to win Sorcha back, he also has to deal with his father's campaign to stand for election on Dún Laoghaire-Rathdown Co Council, running on the basis that it is perfectly legitimate to "hold bank accounts under twenty-eight different names and in seventeen different countries". Ross also takes the surprisingly mature decision to become a presence in his newly "discovered" son's life; and it is little Ronan (catchphrase: "Its all mustard") who ends up stealing the show here. Seven going on 50, Ronan is the complete antithesis to his father, or "Rosser" as he affectionately calls him. Already addicted to nicotine and wise beyond his years, little Ronan also runs his own protection racket amongst the children in his area and is known to every doorman and hood in Dublin. Ross, to his credit, manages to see past Ronan's questionable lifestyle and his beloved Celtic jersey to form an unusual bond with him, where the roles of father and son are not altogether clearly marked.
Howard returns with the usual humorous take on the rugby-playing, chino-wearing masses of southside Dublin, and for those who have enjoyed the previous Ross O'Carroll-Kelly books there is plenty more to take pleasure in here. The premise is familiar, never veering too far off the 46A route or southern Dart line. It is a world of "birds", rugby, Ralph Lauren and Heineken - "Ken" - that sets itself up as an easy target for Howard's damning observations and striking wit. For those on the outside there is plenty to laugh at, while for those finding themselves relating to and recognising much of Ross's existence, the book takes on a worrying meaning all of its own. While the joke may not be as fresh as it once was, it still possesses enough punch to elicit a laugh-out-loud response. Indeed, on current form and with the addition of his delightful if somewhat menacing seven-year-old sidekick, there is plenty of reason to expect and hope for another instalment of Ross's southside chronicles.
Tom Cooney is a freelance journalist
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nightdress By Ross O'Carroll-Kelly (as told to Paul Howard) Penguin Ireland, 303pp. £10.99