Read Paddy Clarke ah ah ah! by Roddy Doyle Laura Noulian Online


Barrytown 1968. Paddy Clarke ha dieci anni, ama Geronimo, adora accendere fuochi, odia gli zoo, i baci, la scuola e non sopporta il suo fratellino. Paddy e Kevin, il suo migliore amico, costruiscono capanne, suonano i campanelli per scherzo, ma sanno che con una buona confessione il posto in Paradiso è assicurato. Ma Paddy è confuso: vorrebbe che la mamma e il papà smettesBarrytown 1968. Paddy Clarke ha dieci anni, ama Geronimo, adora accendere fuochi, odia gli zoo, i baci, la scuola e non sopporta il suo fratellino. Paddy e Kevin, il suo migliore amico, costruiscono capanne, suonano i campanelli per scherzo, ma sanno che con una buona confessione il posto in Paradiso è assicurato. Ma Paddy è confuso: vorrebbe che la mamma e il papà smettessero di litigare e non capisce perché per essere amici di qualcuno bisogna odiare qualcun altro....

Title : Paddy Clarke ah ah ah!
Author :
Rating :
ISBN : 9788877467508
Format Type : Paperback
Number of Pages : 285 Pages
Status : Available For Download
Last checked : 21 Minutes ago!

Paddy Clarke ah ah ah! Reviews

  • Fabian
    2019-05-15 12:45

    I hate to be facetious about this, but it’s true. I love to read good books as much as I love to discover which ones are actual impostors—that is, which ones are overrated past the norm, books like “On the Road,” “Catcher in the Rye,” or anything by Ayn Rand. Yuck. Well, this one won the Booker, which I can only guess is a HUGE deal. But I guess the year this book was published there were a few other, if any, contenders for the top prize.It’s certainly not awful. It’s actually entertaining, readable, sometimes funny. There is true mastery of the language here, an even flow. The tone is more tolerable than say, Emma Donoghue’s “Room” which is also about a child growing up. But, although I am not at all a fan of the almighty “Huck Finn”, I must say that this one does not possess that wackiness—there is some unconscious logic to Twain's tale, at the very least. This is a chapter-less novel; a pretty ordinary account of a pretty ordinary boy. What is the main motor that keeps the prose congruent, that makes the entire novel work? The fact that Patrick’s parents fight. That's all. They keep it private, they try to keep the kids out of it, yet this still registers within Paddy… he’s human alright, just not a remarkable one.Indeed Bookers are bestowed upon (like the Pulitzers here in the U.S.) to novels that exemplify the experience of being European (American for a Pulitzer). This hits several targets to become a well-loved book, but it still remains a coming-of-age story of an Irish imp—a precocious, slightly evil ten year old boy. Who do we side with in this account of playground cruelty & cute impressions? With the bully? The victim? In this case, I would say... neither.Apathy is the worst type of feeling a book can give its reader.

  • Steve
    2019-05-17 17:17

    I hate to think that I’m susceptible to some merchandiser’s power of suggestion, but as soon as hearts and Cupids give way to shamrocks and leprechauns (typically Feb. 15), my thoughts often turn towards the Emerald Isle. Of course, when the lovely lass I married accompanied me there last year to celebrate a round-number anniversary, I can be forgiven for thinking about it even more, right? Beyond the history, scenery, culture, silver-tongued locals and tasty libations, there’s the draw of their proud literary tradition. Roddy Doyle has done his part to continue this. Many here know him from his book The Commitments, the first in the Barrytown Trilogy and the basis for a fookin’ brilliant film. Well, PCHHH is no slouch either. It won a Booker in 1993. Both Doyle and his protagonist are exactly my age. It was interesting to me to see the similarities and differences that a ten year old Dublin lad would experience in 1968. I could relate to the joys of transistor radios and The Man from U.N.C.L.E., for instance, and more generally to that emerging awareness of a complicated world. The horseplay among boys that age was another commonality. (When or where has that not been the case?). Even so, the extremes to which Paddy and his mates took it would have been ruled out of bounds most places. For instance, I’m pretty sure I never tried to set my brother’s lips on fire with lighter fluid, or hobble anyone from the wrong side of the tracks. The overall feel of it was like Ralphie from A Christmas Story had he been speaking about his miserable Irish childhood (a la Angela’s Ashes, though perhaps slightly drier) with the Marquis de Sade as technical advisor.One aspect of the book that was both similar and different was the emphasis on sports. While stateside the obsessions involved baseball, football (the oblong, American kind) and basketball, over there it was just football (the round, rest-of-the-world kind). George Best was the flashy Irish superstar at Manchester United who was Joe Namath, Mickey Mantle and Dr. J all wrapped into one. In their play-acting matches there was fierce competition for who got to be him. Paddy’s little brother Francis (a.k.a. Sinbad) opted out of that role, preferring to be one of the less celebrated players. I figured it said a lot about the brother relationship that Paddy always worked every advantage to appear the dominant star whereas Sinbad was happy to play an ancillary role, creatively feeding the ball to the scorers, ending up more responsible for the results even if less recognized. The fact that Paddy acknowledged Sinbad’s sacrifice and cleverness was meaningful since we saw only the antagonism prior to that point. George Best also featured in another story when Paddy’s da bought him a cherished copy of Best’s book, autographed by the man himself. Or was it?Paddy’s vignettes did not constitute a plot, per se. They were closer to stream-of-consciousness, though a post-Joycean variety where obfuscation was less of a goal. Plus, they built towards something of a climax -- an affecting realization. The convergence of Paddy’s growing maturity and empathy levels with his mum’s tears and his da’s sullen demeanor made him view Sinbad and his parents in a new way, but, begorra, I shan’t say more. Sláinte, Paddy! Sláinte, Sinbad! Your creator made me care. That’s something worthy of a toast in a St. Patrick’s Day tribute, isn’t it?

  • Maciek
    2019-05-12 16:37

    Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha reminded me of another famous Irish novel, Patrick McCabe's The Butcher Boy. Both are narrated by a young boys who grow up in Ireland during the 1960's, and both make use of vernacular and local folklore. The Butcher Boy was shortlisted for the Booker in 1992, and Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha won it in 1993.But don't be dissuaded from reading Paddy Clarke... by thinking that it's more of the same - both books are novels of childhood in the same country at roughly the same time, but achieve different results. Young Francie of The Butcher Boy was a sad, abused derelict who never had a chance to experience childhood and grow up; he retracted into his own, small bubble where the world resembles comic books and films with John Wayne. In comparison, Paddy Clarke is an ordinary young lad who grows up in much better conditions - he has a group of friends with whom he runs around town and does various pranks, has various adventures with various ends. Francie is a character largely oblivious to things happening around him, and can be genuinely mean and abusive towards others; he observes the world around him largely through the lens of his imagination, which he uses to justify his actions with sometimes truly bizarre logic. Paddy is an observant boy, who sees how the world is changing: he runs around the neighborhood and performs pranks with a group of fellow boys, but also notices how urban development is slowly encroaching the areas they used to play in; he picks on kids but does so largely to remain in the pack, with which it commits mischief in the neighborhood. Still, he begins to notice a creeping disruption into his antics-filled life, as his parents begin to argue. Paddy dedicates himself into improving the mood at home and erase the tension between his parents, in a series of touching scenes: he stays up in the kitchen for a long time, pretending to study, so that he can be between them and make them laugh; he listens to the news and then tries to discuss them with his father in hope with forming a better bond with him. He turns to his younger brother, Sindbad, on whom he used to previously pick up in hope of finding comfort and support. Paddy doesn't quickly mature and grow up; rather he is uprooted from the prank-filled world of childhood. He realizes that there might be no way to stop things that he doesn't understand, and can only hope that somehow - somehow - he will be able to cope and go on.This is a book worth reading for those who enjoy novels with child narrators; Roddy Doyle captures Paddy's voice very well. While the book might not pull all readers into its world with a disjointed, fractured story, I believe that it would be a mistake to introduce calculated plotting and sequenced events. It's much more effective to read through the eyes of a young boy, who experiences everything vividly. The text flows from one scene to the next like a stream as Paddy's thoughts and emotions mix and change like summer weather, with warm sun but also cold and biting rain.

  • Rebecca McNutt
    2019-04-26 14:40

    A strikingly powerful portrait of a dysfunctional family and the boy acting as the glue holding it together, Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha is a nostalgic Irish novel with many profound themes hidden beneath childish innocence.

  • Suzy
    2019-05-11 09:26

    Doyle, one of my favorite authors, nails the stream-of-consciousness of a young boy, Paddy Clarke of the title. While not exactly spelled out, I think Paddy, our narrator, is about 8 when the book starts and 10 when it finishes. He and his mate Kevin are the defacto leaders of a band of boys who rove a developing subdivision in late 1960's Ireland, wreaking havoc on themselves and anyone who might be in their way. I kept picturing the antics of my two younger brothers in our developing subdivision in Central Illinois. My guy told me of the antics of his pals in a developing subdivision west of Ft Worth and we laughed until we cried! Young boy antics are universal and, believe me, Paddy and his friends were inventive!I laughed out loud many times, especially at the workings of Paddy's mind, where while going about his school, play and home life, he simultaneously imagined himself as Geronimo, their bikes as horses, himself as George Best the Manchester United super-star, etc. I also got teary at times because, this being Roddy Doyle, we see life in all its complexity. Paddy's ma and da aren't getting along and we see the burden this represents for Paddy and the responsibility he takes on for making things ok for them. This book has a beginning and an end, lots in-between to keep us engaged, but not much of a "plot" in the traditional sense. In Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha, we get to spend a bit of time in Paddy's world and for me that was worth the ride.

  • Sandra
    2019-04-26 09:35

    Se qualcuno, come me, pensasse che “Paddy Clarke ah ah ah” sia un libro divertente, grazie al quale sorridere e svagarsi dai problemi che ci rincorrono, come volevo fare io leggendolo, si sbaglia. “Paddy Clarke ah ah ah” è un libro molto triste, che rilascia sofferenza, una sofferenza che per noi adulti è la peggiore, quella dei bambini a causa del comportamento degli adulti.Il libro racconta le avventure di una banda di ragazzini dublinesi negli anni ’60, raccontata in prima persona da Paddy Clarke, primogenito di una famiglia piccolo borghese irlandese cattolica. La particolarità che mi ha immediatamente colpita è stato il fatto che la storia è narrata in prima persona dal piccolo Paddy, ma al tempo passato, come se ricordasse episodi della sua infanzia da adulto; invece il linguaggio usato è quello dei bambini, semplice, immediato, che segue una logica soltanto infantile, per cui i pensieri gli si allacciano l’uno con l’altro senza continuità, prendendo spunto dal ricordo di un nome o di un gioco, così a caso. Pertanto tu che leggi pensi ad un adulto rimasto bambino, che non può essere, non è credibile; oppure ad un Paddy ancora sulla soglia dell’infanzia che ricorda gli anni passati come se fossero un’altra vita, e questo è più credibile. Il quadro che emerge è quello di un’infanzia giocosa ma non gioiosa, di una banda di bambini in cui è evidente il bullismo di uno sugli altri, la sottomissione del gruppo nei confronti del più forte e manesco, la crudeltà che i bambini hanno verso i deboli o gli estranei al gruppo, che sfocia in giochi e scherzi spesso spietati. In questo quadro Paddy desta tenerezza, per la sua bontà ed anche per la debolezza, per la lucidità infantile con cui si guarda intorno ed osserva i suoi coetanei e gli adulti. Proprio in quest’ultimo punto si trova il cuore del romanzo, nella sofferenza del bambino che guarda i genitori tanto amati farsi la guerra, arrivando dagli urli alle botte, di notte, in salotto, con le porte chiuse e con le grida soffocate, che non sfuggono però all’orecchio del figlio maggiore. Lui guarda e non capisce i comportamenti adulti, sa soltanto che quei due adulti, quel padre un po’ burbero e distratto, sempre preso dal giornale o dalla tv, e quella madre dolcissima ma anche severa nell’educazione, sono gli esseri che lui ama di più al mondo, dai quali subisce i danni più grandi che si possano fare a un bambino.Come si fa a trovare divertente questo libro?

  • James Barker
    2019-04-26 15:36

    A few weeks ago I was infuriated by 'Hideous Kinky,' a novel purporting to be narrated by a five year old girl. Linguistically all wrong, the story fell down due to these discrepancies. Happily, 'Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha,' told from the POV of a ten year old boy, is a masterclass of perception and imaginative writing. This is a boy's voice speaking about the things within his frame of reference, staccato musings that centre on family and its comforts and agonies, the hierarchy of friends and school, and the world that is the village he calls home, a world that shrinks as the book goes on, with play fields disappearing and poor houses springing up. This concoction is laced with an unceasing list of salient facts, all repeated in the boy's voice with the curious wonder of youth. Structurally, the loose chronology is often eschewed by the meandering connections of memory in Paddy's head, although the increasing preoccupation with the health of his parents' marriage cuts through the tales of boyish banter and scrapes, revealing beyond the laughter and joys of childhood a sadness at the core.Very often fathers are sidelined in a family, although regularly they sideline themselves. Working all hours God sends to provide for their family, they can be a silent presence at the end of the working day, exhausted and unfulfilled by their lot. This is captured so well in the book; the mother is the centre of family life, she is responsible for all the positive routine for her two boys. The father, meanwhile, is inconstant. His moods are changeable, his routines tending to cultivate the opposite of peace of mind in his children. His brooding silence is challenged, mostly by his wife but also by his eldest son, Paddy, who feels he has the power to stop his parents' fights- but also, by this implication, that he is responsible for them. The nightly vigil the ten year old boy is reduced to, his increasing insecurity and slump into tearful exhaustion, are quietly tragic. The slow disintegration of a family, Ha Ha Ha, Paddy Clarke, spells the death knell of a child's innocence. As a reader your heart breaks between the lines of humour.

  • El
    2019-05-09 11:16

    Patrick "Paddy" Clarke is a 10-year-old boy growing up in 1960s Ireland who has good and bad times with his friends, loves and hates his little brother (and has no use for his baby sisters because they don't do anything worthwhile yet), tells lies to his friends and his teachers in order to gain their appreciation and respect, and who wants nothing more than to understand (and fix) the problems that begin to erupt between his parents. As an oldest child he feels it his position to protect his younger brother, Francis (aka 'Sinbad'), and his mother; he believes that if he sits up at night listening to his parents fight he can somehow protect them all.The story is a touching and heartbreaking coming-of-age tale. Roddy Doyle manages to capture a 10-year-old boy's perspective on life perfectly. Paddy is precocious and shows his smarts as often as possible, thinking if he can just impress his parents they won't fight with each other. The narrative is written in an inner dialogue manner, as an adult looking back with clarity. In retrospect actions are more important than they ever ultimately could be and things, such as a favorite hot water bottle, are more vivid as an adult than anything else.This is my first Roddy Doyle book and I am excited to read more. I hear the Barrytown Trilogy is good; since this was my first experience with Barrytown I look forward to what other stories take place there and who else has their names written in cement throughout the town along with Paddy and his friends.

  • Faith
    2019-05-01 15:29

    I'm very glad I found Roddy Doyle. (Thanx Nick Hornby and Speaking to the Angels.) Cause Paddy Clarke HaHaHa is just like I like a book. It reminds me a lot of Frank McCourt's Angela's Ashes, one of my favorite books. One of the books I truly love. They've got more in common than the comic style. They're both about Irish childhoods. Frankie McCourt's in the late 30s and early 40s. Paddy Clarke's in the late 60s. "It is 1968. Paddy Clarke is 10 years old, breathless with discovery." Writes Irish Times. I love Paddy Clarke. He is so sympathetic. For me that says everything. He just makes me love him. Want to hug him almost. (Expect he wouldn't want me to do it (even if we would exist in the same world). Cause life is so hard. Even for a 10-year-old boy. The boys that play together in the Irish suburbs of the 60s are so hard on each other. But kids are, whether they're boys or girls, whenever and wherever they live. Good I haven't had to endure that. The kids cruelty. Not much at least. You can't get to me, not really. "Paddy Clarke, Paddy Clarke, has no da, ha ha ha!" Paddy Clarke discovering the world. That's what it's about. Everything in the book. Honestly. Roddy Doyle is brilliant. The book is brilliant. So sympathetic and funny. It really gets to me. Really. To my heart. Paddy. And especially his relationship with his younger brother Sinbad. I love them. This was the kind of book, after which it's hard to start on an other one, cause u know it's not gonna be half as good, won't give u the same feeling. And I did forget to mention the word cute. That should certainly be mentioned. It's all so cute, and it's about children. Wonderful. [And I know this might sound flat.:]And I just have to add that this is the kind of book that I think ought to be true, a true story, even thou this isn't. The way the book is told makes it seam so true, like someone’s memories.

  • Richard Derus
    2019-05-17 10:39

    Rating: An irritable 3* of fiveUgh.Books written in the voice of a child had best use that technique for a reason...the child's perspective becomes wearing unless there is some very, very compelling narrative reason to make us follow a kid around without wanting to scream blue murder after a while.I don't find any such compelling reason in this book. I don't find anything compelling at all in this book, as a matter of fact.Ireland sounds damned good and dreary, and I am rethinking my desire to visit. I hate priests, nuns, and the Catholic Church with a vibrating Day-Glo orange passion. I'm beginning to hate all the fools and cruels who dare to become parents in Ireland, too. All the cheery Irish that exist appear to have moved here and taken up writing about the badness of Irish childhoods.Blech. I don't want to talk about this book anymore. Read it at your peril. Why did I give it three stars? Because the writing, the descriptions, the sheer visual acuity of it makes anything less a dishonest rating, one based on my growing dislike of the country it's about, not a judgment of the book's merits.

  • Linda Lipko
    2019-04-27 14:32

    If anyone can answer my question, I'd love to know the answer. Why is it that books written by Irish authors or told about the Irish seem to consistently focus on a) drinking b) abuse c) poverty d) dysfunction???? Is there joy in Ireland?While reviews are primarily positive about this book, for many reasons, I simply reacted to the fact that it was yet another angst filled tale of an Irish child witnessing cruelty, and acting out with cruelty, harming those around him, including his younger sibling.It is 1968 and Paddy is ten years old, his father is drinking heavily, his mother is abused, his brother is a royal pain.He and his band of friends roam the small town setting fires at building sites, entering forbidden areas while performing various and sundry cruel beatings and taunts to each other.Written in a hard to follow stream of consciousness style, I had a difficult time absorbing the story line.Simply stated, I didn't like this book and cannot recommend it.

  • Ola Cader
    2019-04-23 16:24

    This is one of the very few books I've read twice, and the only one I liked even more when reading it for the second time. When I was reading Paula Spencer I was thinking that Roddy Doyle must have spent hours talking to women, or rather listening to them. Reading Paddy Clarke... made me think he must have spent hours listening to children. I really appreciate books where child characters seem so real, because few people are willing to listen to what kids really have to say. I love Roddy Doyle for the same reason I love John Irving or Kurt Vonnegut - he can write about important, serious and difficult things without boring you. Most things that happen to Paddy and his family and friends are not 'ha ha ha' at all, but this book is one of the most entertaining ones I've read. I think Paddy Clarke is one of the best characters ever and if you don't agree you're a spa and I'll give you a dead leg!

  • Lisa
    2019-05-09 13:36

    It took me much longer than it should have to finish this slight, inconsequential novel. It won the Booker in 1993, but it's a bit of a mystery why that was so. I would have given the prize to Remembering Babylon by David Malouf, a much better and more significant book in every way.Paddy Clark Ha Ha Ha is written in the voice of Paddy, nine years old in the 1960s, watching The Man From UNCLE on TV and observing his parents' marriage break up. It's impressionistic, with (paraphrasing Jung here, talking about childhood memories) 'little islands of memories floating round in the vagueness of ocean'. These scraps of memory are not quite in sequence though there is a sense of dawning awareness that grows as the novel moves to its conclusion.There's no plot as such, which is ok, but I'm not sure what its theme is either. In fact I'm not at all sure what Doyle is on about, except to depict the chaotic order of life in small boy gangs and the violence they impose on each other. Paddy is awfully cruel to his little brother, setting his lips alight with lighter fuel and delivering 'dead legs' and 'Chinese burns' as a matter of routine. The gang sets traps to delineate territory in their growing housing estate, and the 'Corporation' children set one of wire, causing one boy to almost lose his foot. All this is presented as the norm. It's rather disquieting.The opening lines are an allusion to Portrait of a Young Man by James Joyce, but if there are other allusions as well, I failed to find them. If any such invisible allusions are what made it worthy of the Booker, then the judges have made a wrong assumption that readers will recognise it. Much too subtle for me, and I've read Portrait twice.My overwhelming impression is one of distaste for the depiction of a savage little way of life.I finished reading this book and journalled it on 6.8.03.Cross posted at The Complete Booker

  • Julie
    2019-05-23 15:28

    I've read an embarrassingly large number of books, and I can tell you. . . there isn't one out there that captures a childhood, or the perspective from a 10-year-old child, better than this one.Not just any childhood, and certainly not any in 2014 in a middle-class or affluent neighborhood, where the children can now be found indoors, and in silence, save the hum of their tv or computer.No, these are the childhoods that many of us, before, say 1985, experienced in our low and middle class neighborhoods. The childhoods where the parents had little involvement, the kids were a grubby, rude bunch, and trouble could be drummed up on a dime.This was before schools banned teachers and administrators from hitting you on the hands and heads and promoted any such thing as an anti-bullying policy.And, even if, in many ways, you can argue we've become too soft, or our children are over-monitored, this book is a great argument as to why things changed. Needed to change.But author Roddy Doyle isn't preaching about social change, he's just telling a story. Ten-year-old Paddy Clarke's story. It's a meaningful read, despite many stops and starts and a middle that sagged, and if you need quotation marks to distinguish dialogue, you won't find any here.Doyle nails it, though, he nails our meanness. The meanness that trickles down from our parents, teachers, administrators and adult neighbors, to our kids, who then become mean to their siblings, friends, and neighborhood dogs.My stomach hurt through many of these stream of consciousness passages of bullying and taunting and I was sure an innocent animal would die at the hands of these brats at some point.Doyle does a brilliant job of maintaining Voice and staying true to Paddy Clarke's world.

  • piperitapitta
    2019-05-19 16:35

    «Ma il tango è un ballo che si balla in due.»Alla fine con quest'affermazione Patrick Clarke, anni dieci, Paddy per gli amici, Roddy Doyle per i lettori, mi è venuto in aiuto e mi ha fatto sentire meno in colpa.Sarà che io non sono mai stata un bambino, piuttosto una "piccola donna".Sarà che i giochi di strada non li ho mai fatti.Sarà che di Irlanda, alla fine, in questo romanzo ce n'è pochissima.Sarà che io sono una seguace entusiasta di Agnes Browne e della dolce melanconironia di Brendan O'Carroll.à perché alla fine tutte queste "fotografie dall'infanzia" non sono riuscita a riunirle in nessun album?Sarà quel che sarà ma io mi sono annoiata parecchio nel leggerlo.Sarà però che alla fine riesco a trovare sempre, o quasi, qualcosa di buono in quello che leggo, ma alle parti in cui il piccolo Patrick racconta i litigi di mamma e papà avrei assegnato cinque stelle periodiche.Sarà perché quelle sono sempre le stesse per i bambini e le bambine di ogni latitudine?Che dici Roddy, ci riproviamo ancora a ballare insieme con The Commitments?[edit]Dimenticavo!Che qualcuno mi spieghi nel dettaglio cos'è lo stivaletto malese!ma quante volte ho scritto "alla fine"? Mah, alla fine che importa? :-)

  • Brad
    2019-05-08 14:40

    This review was written in the late nineties (just for myself), and it was buried in amongst my things until today, when I uncovered the journal it was written in. I have transcribed it verbatim (although square brackets indicate some additional information for readability) from all those years ago. It is one of my lost reviews.When I tell others about this novel I talk about Roddy Doyle's voice and how he captures the thought patterns of children so well; I mention certain tales Patrick tells, like the burning of Sinbad's mouth, or the Grand National, but I never mention the connection the novel has with my own life. Brian [my Dad] never left Chris [my Mom], but my experiences of abuse and my own violent childhood and my need for isolation are all captured in the voice of Paddy. I understand his futile fight with Charlo and his alienating defeat of Kevin. The violence and inner pain have been mine and still make teh occassional appearance. However, the most powerful part of the book his Paddy's confusion concerning his Da. He loves the man, wants to be the man, and fears the man, eventually hating him. I've been there myself. Doyle expresses my experience best.

  • Roberta
    2019-05-03 13:25

    How much the point of view changes with age! I read the italian translation the year it was published, and I loved it. Moreover, it was a present from a friend of mine and I also loved the time and effort she put into looking for a book that could meet my taste.23 years later (oh my god!) I really want to give Paddy and his gang a good spanking. I don't think it is just me, though: a lot of things he could have got away with in 1993 fall today under the category of bullying. But when you realized there's something wrong in Paddy's life the stream of consciousness has already involved you in half the book. IMHO the style of writing is simply perfect, exactly as you expect an healthy and vivacious young boy to talk and think. And if you notices, such a jolly spirit dries out as fast as the problems grow within the household. The last paged looks more like a "normal book", then the free mind of Patrick.Roddy Doyle will write again about domestic abuse in The Woman Who Walked Into Doors. Is this type of violence frequent in Ireland, or is it a topic dear to Mr Doyle? I don't know, but I know he's quite good in writing about it.

  • Greta
    2019-05-02 12:27

    La risata del titolo è una risata forzata, costruita, innaturale, quella di un bambino che ama inventare le cose perché arrivare in fondo alla bugia senza contraddizioni è vincere una sfida con sé stessi, un bambino che in mezzo alla sua cricca d'amici deve ridere più forte degli altri, ed accertarsi che gli altri lo stiano guardando, si stiano accorgendo della sua voce, stiano riconoscendo il suo sforzo di farsi notare. La risata del titolo è solo una forma, una posa, una maschera. Qualcosa che Paddy insegue per tutto il romanzo in maniera spasmodica, una ricerca struggente e disperata, il commovente tentativo di un bimbo di nascondere le ingenuità tipiche della sua età per mostrare uno spettacolo, una facciata smagliante e radiosa."Paddy Clarke ah ah ah!" ha una risata nel titolo, ma è tutt'altro che divertente, è un libro che fa parlare un bambino in maniera talmente verosimile e rispettosa da risultare doloroso. Patrick Clarke ha dieci anni e una cricca d'amici in mezzo ai quali cerca di interpretare al meglio il ruolo di teppistello di strada che le circostanze gli hanno affidato: ruba, appicca incendi, maltratta il fratellino, prende parte alle risse di quartiere, fa a gara a suonare quanti più campanelli possibili per poi scappare senza farsi prendere. E Roddy Doyle si immerge nei pensieri di Paddy, e lo fa con una maestria sconvolgente: non credo di aver mai letto qualcuno scrivere così bene nei panni di un ragazzino di dieci anni, sovrapponendo un linguaggio schietto ed episodi banali e slegati fra di loro a significati profondi e perfettamente coerenti e finalizzati a formare un disegno più ampio.Eppure tre quarti di questo libro, nonostante la scrittura magistrale di Roddy Doyle, mi hanno annoiata: forse perché sono stata una bambina molto più fortunata di Paddy e i suoi amici, forse perché non ho mai giocato in strada, e a dieci anni non avevo bisogno di avere qualcuno in comune da odiare per sentrimi vicina a qualcun altro, forse perché a dieci anni lividi e denti rotti e colpi di mazza sulla schiena e accendini gettati in faccia non mi sarebbero mai sembrati normali giochi da ragazzini, ma veri e propri atti di bullismo. Leggevo, apprezzavo la scrittura di Doyle, non provavo interesse a proseguire e sentivo una morsa gelida allo stomaco, perché in mezzo a tutti questi giochi e alle botte e alle prese in giro sul conto delle disgrazie famigliari di ogni membro della cricca sentivo una totale mancanza di comprensione nei confronti di questi bambini. Non mancanza d'attenzione, quello no, ma una completa, avvolgente, totalizzante mancanza di comprensione. In questo deserto affettivo non c'è da stupirsi per la cattiveria e i comportamenti tanto cinici in bambini così piccoli. E poi, quando ormai pensavo che questo libro si sarebbe concluso come un'opera ben scritta ma non di mio interesse, ecco quelle ultime ottanta pagine. Ecco la fragilità di Paddy, le sue notti insonni, i suoi disperati e, agli occhi di un adulto, struggenti tentativi di poter fare qualcosa per la sua famiglia. Per quella mamma così carina e quel papà così simpatico, per quelle due figure impegnate a ballare un tango sempre più frenetico e pericoloso. Ecco la rigidità di un fratellino che si finge di voler proteggere solo per potervisi aggrappare, e le pagine dei libri di testo copiate e ricopiate al tavolo della cucina. Ottanta pagine per cui vale la pena di passare attraverso stivaletti malesi e topi morti e furti di segatura.

  • Declan
    2019-04-27 11:17

    Like Doyle, I am from Dublin (born and bred, as the say) but there is a generation gap between us of more than 20 years. Still, this book is so reminiscent of my own childhood it beggars belief.There was even a boy in my class at school who had a fancy for drinking ink (from biros as opposed to inkwells) with the same name as young Paddy's offending classmate: James O'Keeffe.Happy coincidences aside, this book has a captivating sense of place which puts the reader in the middle of one of many new housing estates that were thrown up during the 1960's to combat Dublin's housing shortage. Said estates were built with little or no urban planning, leaving residents without hospitals, schools or even shops to buy necessary groceries.In such circumstances it's easy to understand the boredom of local children and the mischief arising from it. What Doyle does so masterfully is to make the reader understand how building sites looked so appealing as stand-in playgrounds, and illustrate the creativity, and competition, fostered in games, plucked from the children's imaginations.Putting my own nostalgia aside for one moment, this books delves into the difficulties faced by young families as the carved a niche for themselves in the world, (it would have been fairly common for 16-year-olds to marry at the time, although the age of the Clarke parents is never explicitly stated) and with Paddy being our narrator, you understand the toll marital strife and uncertainty takes on children.The pace leads you by the hand through Paddy's world, the first-person narrative is always captivating and heartbreaking at times and, being a Doyle novel, it's filled with laughs from beginning to end, be they juvenile, subtle or bitter sweet.An easy recommendation for anyone.:)

  • Colleen
    2019-05-01 14:17

    This book won the 1993 Booker Prize. I tend to love Irish authors and books like this one, in which I can hear the brogue in the dialog. This book did a wonderful job of putting the reader in the reality of boys ages 8 to 10 and their relationships. The reader is fully immersed in their neighborhood and given a strong sense of place throughout the novel. The reader gets insight into the bullying (even toward beloved pals and siblings), petty crimes, and other stunts pulled by the main characters -- even when those characters lack insight themselves. The highpoint of the book was its consistency in portraying the world through the eyes of a young boy, complete with the faulty perspective that such a child would have in certain situations.The reason I did not adore this book and give it more stars was because it didn't DO enough with the marvelous characters and place. Once the scene was established, the story didn't go far enough. The main characters certainly experienced some life changes, but I was left feeling like the journey had just begun after a long time spent getting the engine to start. I felt that the real discoveries and consequences of what took place in the book had yet to take place. I wanted to hear about where the characters were five or ten years down the line. It left me somewhat unsatisfied. I would still consider reading other books by Doyle, though, because his characters are so well developed and his dialog is filled with humor and an enjoyable pace (even in the midst of some dark and disturbing subject matter).

  • Christina
    2019-05-05 12:42

    Irish writers will break your heart. Not in a sweet, tender or bitter way. The effect is much more brutal for its ordinariness and inevitability. (I am also thinking of Colm Toibin's 'Brooklyn' here, I guess). They lure you in with the quick and often hilarious wit of their protagonists, and Roddy Doyle's Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha is delivered with a lilting melody of local terms and accents that pick you up and carry you along at a cracking and often rhythmic pace. And then, when you least expect it, even though you knew full-well that it had been coming all along, Doyle tears out your heart leaving it to ebb away on the floor while you are left in gales of tears. A little melodramatic? Young Paddy Clarke lives his life with his emotions constantly on the edge, a pent up ball of bravado and explosive impulses of love and loyalty. You can't help but live it right there with him, every fighting, breathless step of the way.

  • Maria Thomarey
    2019-05-12 09:41

    3,5 χα χα χα τι ωραία και διασκεδαστική σειρά βιβλίων#not . Τα θέματα που διαπραγματεύεται ο συγγραφέας σε όλα του τα βιβλία είναι μάλλον άβολα . Η ηταν άβολα την αποχή της ευημερίας μας . Τώρα ξανάγιναν πραγματικότητα"μόδα"

  • Portia S
    2019-05-19 13:37

    This was okay. I haven't been feeling well lately, and every-time I neared the end (95%, 98%) I fell asleep on myself, but finally I've finished. Now, if you look back on my progress, I took roughly a million years to complete this (an entire month). And it wasn't because of all the school work and stuff, cause I got that done. I just feel overwhelmingly lazy and disenchanted with reading right now I think. It's not length or anything, it's just me. REVIEW STARTS HERE:Starting the book was great, I was immediately drawn to the protagonist, 10 year old Patrick Clarke (named after his father) who runs around 1960's Ireland with his friends Liam, Aidan, Kevin and Patrick's younger brother Francis with the agnomen of "Sinbad".I enjoyed the writing of Mr. Doyle in this, it was in the format of a child's intermittent and irregular bursts of thought. On one paragraph we're at the scene of a barn, building fires, at the other part, we're at home listening to Da talk about the issues, then back once more to the barn, burning down. It really did feel as though I was with the children, doing impish little deeds with a hellion snapping at my ankles. The accounts of how they literally played with fire reminded me of the times when I would do such things. Play with fire, burn things and stare at the smoke. Though, I've never burnt down a barn :SI believe that in the beginning of the book I was caught up with antics of playing with fire and physically abusing the youngest member of the gang that when these adventurous/slightly frightening times slowly dissipated into more serious issues of marital despair, I became a bit despondent with the book, and there I believe was when the slowing down occurred. From the beginnings though, I understood there was a rank about them, they all obeyed Kevin, he was their leader, Liam and Aidan seemed like in-betweeners, but I really felt as though Patrick was second in command. When Kevin wasn't there, the others generally listened to Patrick, reminded me of things like that happening in school. The lovely parts about this had to be the school system, the way the teachers were. At first, they were tyrants, actually mostly tyrants: feared and hated. But when Patrick fell asleep in class, he wasn't punished, it seemed as though it was recognised that there was trouble at home. Which I thought was so... different. I fell asleep and got bouffed up real bad -_- Steups. Also, they spoke actual "Irish" sometimes, which was rather novel to me, :DThe trouble at home was depressing, it was interesting how this little mischievous little rogue could do things to make sure that things at home wasn't at it's worst. He did his school work well, (actually Patrick was always at the top of his class) and showed his father his spelling words to stop his parents in the middle of a fight. He did his chores so that no one would get upset and fight about it. If he heard them at night downstairs yelling, he pretended to go to the bathroom, or that he was thirsty and they stopped. With Sinbad, (Francis), I wondered about him :( Patrick would be terribly mean to him, kick and pinch him, hold him down and cover his nose so that he would have to gasp for breath. But Sinbad never said a word :( He never complained, he never even screamed or shouted when he was being abused by his brother. This really bothered me. Throughout the book, Patrick is never called Paddy, at least to my recollection. His father alone is called this by his mother. However, it seemed to me that when it reached the end, where Patrick was finally referred to as this, it was to point out that his father had left and now young Patrick was the man of the house. It's interesting how a shortened form of his name would symbolise (at least to me) his rise to man hood at the age of ten.

  • Laysee
    2019-05-10 14:18

    Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha, the 1993 Booker Prize Winner, is no Ha Ha Ha story even though there is no lack of Ha Ha Ha moments, as you cannot help but be entertained by the antics of a bunch of 10-year-old boys. Roddy Doyle brilliantly captured the psychology of children and created a credible world of childhood play and dialogue that rang true and real. Paddy and his little brother, Sinbad, spent their school day enduring the tyranny of less than inspiring teachers who could all but “kill” them. The need to belong was palpable as Paddy and his schoolmates bonded in ways that would worry any parent. Doyle described an endless stream of mischievous and aggressive games that were the boys’ daily staple. They hung out at half-completed construction sites setting fires, pouring lighter fluid into Sinbad’s mouth, bursting tar bubbles, stealing nails, giving dead legs, and “pruning”. There were times when all the inventive mischief began to grate on the reader and you could laugh no more. But as is often true of at-risk children, Paddy’s world was falling apart and you feel his pain. His parents’ marriage was breaking up and he had no way of understanding why, though he desperately tried to help maintain equilibrium. Then swiftly followed the end of Paddy’s childhood when the chant that rang out was “Paddy Clarke, Paddy Clarke, has no da, ha, ha, ha!” Doyle’s understatement of grief was mingled with the depiction of uncontrollable zest in being alive at age ten, sweetness, and a fearless belief that one can live forever. Good book.

  • Amber
    2019-04-29 12:31

    I would have given this book zero quite happily. Was forced to read this for my two GCSE years and hated every second. For some reason the author expects us to like the lead character who likes doing nothing more than bullying and physically torturing his friends and brother. The language is basic which is supposed to reflect the child narrator but was actually just incredibly irritating. Despite having missed reading several chunks of the book I recieved an A* in my GCSE indicating just how predictable the book is. Give me to kill a mockingbird anyday!!!

  • Thomas Edmund
    2019-05-04 14:41

    Few books successfully capture the experience of a child, fewer still manage to both capture the perspective of a child with a thorough comment on 'adult' issues. In Paddy Clarke Doyle comments on religion, politics, Ireland, family dynamics (and probably more stuff I didn't pick up on)The story is light-hearted in prose, but deep in content which creates a somewhat awkward but fulfilling story. A good length too, leaving one satiated without gagging for more (or bored throughout)

  • Ali Nazifpour
    2019-05-09 11:31

    One of the most compelling novels I have ever read. Certainly no other book I've seen captures the voice of a child narrator so faithfully, and so strikingly. The book doesn't censor the ugly realities of childhood, and it doesn't shade over the innocence of Patrick, a young boy at the same time cruel and sweet, in a world much bigger than him and with life happening while he comprehends almost nothing.

  • Jenny (Reading Envy)
    2019-05-05 14:42

    Started this for a book speed date and wasn't gripped 50 pages in. Will donate to local literacy sale.

  • Héctor Torres
    2019-04-29 13:42

    Roddy Doyle es un maestro para mostrar la salvaje cotidianidad de la gente común irlandesa, diciendo mucho con situaciones sutiles y corrientes, donde la ternura conviven con la crueldad, mostrando que así es la vida.

  • Philip
    2019-05-19 17:37

    Patrick Clarke Ha Ha Ha by Roddy Doyle is an unusual, highly original account of life in a Northern Ireland Catholic household. Written from the point of view of Paddy, the eldest son, aged ten, of the Clarke family, it draws the reader through a particular experience of childhood.There is a child’s wonder at the new. There are strange facts about the world to be unearthed and challenges to face like a man. But when you are ten, there is also always the rock of parents, ma and pa, ma and da, mum and dad on which to rely. Their love for you and their constancy will always offer support and never let you down. Like God, they are not subject to question.So when you do something that was not quite advisable, and as a consequence a window gets broken, or a plant uprooted or an ornament broken, there’s recrimination to expect, of course, perhaps punishment to endure, but it will be fine in the end, because ma and da always make things happen that way. You can trust them, assume their interest, take them for granted.And that applies even when you beat up your mate, and hit him just a bit too hard. You might say he fell, or stumbled and hit himself hard in an unfortunate place, let blood that spotted his shirt or came home crying in fright, but it would all be fine in the end. When you give your younger brother a dead leg just to keep him in his place, or declare war under the covers after bed time, or even when he messes his pants provoking the others to giggle and mock, there is always home waiting, where there will be safety behind the parental screen.And when you pick a fight because someone says that George Best is not the best footballer in the world, that a teacher you like is a whore or a defenceless sibling ought to get punched, ma and da always step in, mediate, soothe.Until, that is, you realise your da might not be telling the truth, until you realise that he is just another grown up, perhaps as inconstant and unreliable as all the others. And what about when your ma and da start to fight? The noises percolate through the wall from the other room. They can’t be hidden. Well that’s just called growing up, which is already happening, even – perhaps especially – to a ten year old. And then, of course, there will be adulthood, when everything will be different in a world where people don’t fight, where there will be no conflict. This is Northern Ireland, after all.Roddy Doyle’s book is a delight. It takes a while to suspend the disbelief associated with becoming a ten year old, even longer to get used to the idea that little Paddy might have written it all down. But the mood and his character soon take over and draw us into a world as fascinating and as threatening as any experienced by an adult.