The Midden

The Midden

Tom Sharpe

Language: English

Pages: 177

ISBN: B01N1EVWBB

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Book Details:

ISBN: 0879519282
EAN: 9780879519285
ASIN: 0879519282
Publisher: Overlook Press
Publication Date: 1999-02-01
Number of Pages: 245
Website: Amazon, LibraryThing, Google Books, Goodreads

Synopsis from Amazon:

Spectacular mayhem ensues when Timothy Brights, in typically dim fashion, lands in bed with the Chief Constable's wife. And things go seriously wrong when the Chief Constable tries to frame his old adversary, the upright Miss Midden.

GoodReads Author Information:

Author Name: Tom Sharpe (Born: 1928/03/30 / Died: 2013/06/06)

Author Description: Tom Sharpe was an English satirical author, born in London and educated at Lancing College and at Pembroke College, Cambridge. After National Service with the Royal Marines he moved to South Africa in 1951, doing social work and teaching in Natal, until deported in 1961.

His work in South Africa inspired the novels Riotous Assembly and Indecent Exposure. From 1963 until 1972 he was a History lecturer at the Cambridge College of Arts and Technology, which inspired his "Wilt" series Wilt, The Wilt Alternative, Wilt on High and Wilt in Nowhere.

His novels feature bitter and outrageous satire of the apartheid regime (Riotous Assembly and its sequel Indecent Exposure), "dumbed-" or watered-down education (the Wilt series), English class snobbery (Ancestral Vices, Porterhouse Blue, Grantchester Grind), the literary world (The Great Pursuit), political extremists of all stripes, political correctness, bureaucracy and stupidity in general. Characters may indulge in bizarre sexual practices, and coarser characters use very graphic and/or profane language in dialogue. Sharpe often parodies the language and style of specific authors commonly associated with the social group held up for ridicule. Sharpe's bestselling books have been translated into many languages.

Author URL: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/33017

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drunk in a long time, and to make it all the more peculiar she'd only had three small gin and tonics and had drowned the gin in tonic too. At this rate she'd have to give up drinking altogether. There must be something terribly wrong with her liver. As she blundered into the kitchen table and clutched at the back of a chair and finally sat down, she was an extremely puzzled woman. She was even more puzzled by an over-riding desire to sing. She hadn't had that urge for ages and usually did it in

from low blood pressure. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to speak to Bletchley.' 'You can't. He's not here.' 'Oh, of course it's the weekend,' said Fergus. 'I suppose he's with...Is he golfing again?' 'I don't know what you mean,' said Ernestine, resuming her hauteur in an attempt to regain some confidence. 'No, all right, all right,' said Fergus, acknowledging there were some things better left unsaid. 'Well, if you can get through to him, get him to understand that I'm holding Boskie back

Timothy didn't know it but he could see that Mr Smith had just nicked his nose. The situation was most unpleasant. 'I'm sorry about that,' he muttered. 'He's not very popular in the family either.' Mr Smith dabbed the end of his nose with a blue silk handkerchief and hurled the razor expertly at the desk where it bisected a cigar. He got up and went into the toilet for some paper. 'Got a yacht called the Lex Britannicus? he said while dabbing his nose with the paper. 'Yes,' said Timothy,

was going to have to sell the house he had been born and brought up and had led such a wonderfully idle life in. It was an unbearable prospect. He poured himself another Scotch and went into the gun room. Chapter 22 Miss Midden was entirely a different person when she arrived in Fowey. She had had to change trains to get to Plymouth and had had very little sleep. Looking at her face in the mirror of the station lavatory, she thought it was suitably careworn for the role she had chosen for

lying in wait for the Civilized World like a wounded buffalo under a lone thorn tree where one would least expect it but a World Conspiracy, comprising Zionists in alliance with Ayatollahs, Irishmen and of course Blacks and every other demon, still existed in his imagination. And now on this beautiful summer morning it was exercising its deadly skills against the Middenhall. Buffalo Midden had already worked out why. The Middenhall was the perfect place. Isolated, cut off from the world and

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