Kid Me Not
Roddy Doyle is an absolute genius!" enthuses J.K. Rowling. Dubious praise perhaps, but less so on the back cover of his first children's book. Doyle has demonstrated an uncanny understanding of a child's world (and a sense of humour to match) in his other novels, powered by memory, imagination and hard work. That he should turn to children's fiction is perhaps no surprise.
But it is, primarily because his other works were only ostensibly about childhood - the adult was omnipresent in the gloom and despair of the real world. A 112 page book in large print, with generous doses of illustrations (admittedly very good ones by Brian Ajhar) and in an almost conspiratorial, Dahl-ish narrative tone is not what one usually expects of a Booker Prize Winner, even one with as active an imagination and too much free time.
This is where he surprises yet again, for despite the trappings of the genre, Doyle's wickedly adult humour shines through and proudly claims the book as being recognisably his. Talking animals, a scatological fixation, wild irreverence and abandon - all the elements are present for a brilliant adult read. Children could of course read this, but the audience spectrum extends far beyond, like any other really good children's book.
The Giggler Treatment revolves around an interesting premise - what if adults were punished by a crack troop of "Gigglers" each time they were mean to children? There is of course the comic misunderstanding that leads to the situation in the first place, and its imminent yet delayed resolution. For a supposed children's book, the plot is actually not completely straightforward; instead, there is considerable use of temporal leaps in the narrative, which is another nod in the direction of Doyle's pedigree.
The characters themselves are a real joy, albeit in a two-dimensional fashion as befits the book. The talking seagull which hates fish, Mr. Mack who tastes biscuits for a living, a millionaire dog selling poo and a cast of Gigglers buying poo verges on the surreal, but at the same time remains grounded and eminently believable. Most importantly, they are incredibly funny without being ridiculous.
However, The Giggler Treatment, whilst very good, is not a great book. It is marred, most unfortunately, by a tendency towards gimmickry on Doyle's part. The book starts off brilliantly, but it slows down and wears thin towards the end, especially since scatological humour gives very low mileage. The ever-expanding chapter headings are perhaps the best example of a general trend - for the first few chapters it is really funny, but then it soon becomes tiresome, even irritating.
This is perhaps one major complaint about Doyle and especially this book: we all know he is amazingly (and amusingly) clever, so constant and obvious reminders of literary wizardry wear thin very quickly. There is too much of the artist's hand in the book, too much showing off and ultimately not enough credit given to the reader. Even children's attention spans aren't as short as the frequent flourishes seem to suggest, and The Giggler Treatment suffers. A book, then, for the cousin who's hit puberty but not yet lost his virginity.
12th Oct 2000