The Stray Sod Country

Pissing with rain last night but ventured forth to the book launch. The name indicates that you are in trouble if you take the wrong direction, and was taken from the author hearing a woman who lost her way and arrived late for a meeting saying 'I fell into the stray sod and became lost' according to some press reports. I don't know whether the expression is also from some Irish folklore, but in the novel it recurs frequently. Nobodaddy, originally from Blake, is behind the disasters in the novel, and is also represented as a malign character known as the Fetch.

Anyway, arrived at the Gramaphone pub in Commercial Street. The launch was downstairs in the club and Margot kindly met me and found a chair, since there weren't many. Pat read excerpts from the book. Margot had covered a pillar with brown papier mache and made an excellent tree trunk with some repousse grotesque mask faces. There was a kind of goblin figure (Nobodaddy) prancing around and various things happening, such as an excellent singer. Just as the second reading by Neil Jordan began I became totally exhausted and had to leave. Probably because of the early hour I got a cab quickly. I am sure the evening was a great success and if I had been twenty years younger or considerably fitter I might have stayed.

Anyway I shall now settle down and read my copy of this dark novel.