A hyperlinear roller-coaster of a tale that will have you revising your definition of fine literature in no time. Plus you’ll never get lost, because it has a strict plot line. Tell your friends.
– GINGER ROGERS (Paris)
You don’t have to know any French to enjoy this romp through France, though some basic Basque won’t hurt. – L. CANARD (Paris)
Jarrard’s bucolic descriptions of the Pyrenees, its fogs and sheep will have you lacing up your hiking boots. – THE FAKE NYT (New York)
As a personage lost deep in this lush jungle of a drama, I can attest to its utterly fair treatment of all artists and animals. – VERITE (Paris)
Highly subtle philosophizing on the meaning of life that evokes Atisha’s Lamp for the Path to Enlightenment. – BERT SOLARITZA (Donostia)
It made me want to get my paint-by-numbers set out again after all these years, and for that I’m deeply grateful. – MAMI MOSES (Hoosick Falls)
I really enjoyed the sassy Villanova character. Western fiction needs even more transsexuals with attitude. – MELLA CINDERELLA (Dallas)
It’s sexy, it’s romantic, and I like it. – DAME BLANCHE (Paris)
Yuge, like, really smart. Not like Hillary. – STABLE GENIUS (Rikers)
Embarrassing. A stain on our family. – T.S. JARRARD (Deceased)
Yuge! The crowd of readers of Jarrard’s fascinating new novel THE OLD WORLD DIES stretches back to the Washington Monument! DO YOU HAVE YOUR COPY?
Friends, It’s been 16 years since “Rolling the Bones” and while you might think I’ve been goofing off all this time, au contraire! For here comes “The Old World Dies,” a comic romp through France guaranteed to get you through the rest of the winter with your sanity intact. You can get your very own copy of “The World Dies” in e-book form or in print on Amazon sites worldwide. PLEASE leave a review on Amazon, Facebook or Twitter. And tell your friends, colleagues and secret lovers. Hell, tell your cats, dogs and raccoons, too. MERCI. Happy reading! To pair with a Château La Tour de By. An excellent Médoc. All vintages recommended.
“The Old World Dies” is a comic satire on the final decline of France and the cleverly melodramatic adventures of a dreamy painter of nudes, his colorful models and spinster benefactors, an American swindler, an unlucky taxi driver, a savage teenage gang girl, and a well-lubricated cast of supporting actors, living or not, as they scurry through the great cultural and social collapse. The mad dash for the exits opens to the pleasant tinkling of sheep bells high in the Pyrenees where nature-struck Parisian artists wander through the fog looking for light to the bemusement of the Basque people, plunges into the Sturm und Drang of Paris where the well-heeled cower as suburban riffraff rush the walls and pet poodles take to speaking Portuguese, then swings out to sunny California and drinks with a con artist in a nice bar located on a dangerous coastal road, before arriving at a picture-postcard resort in Mexico where a beach artist dashes off paintings at sunset of those who, deserving or not, survived.
The latest and hopefully final revision of the summary of my new novel, due Jan. 15.
“The Old World Dies” is a sprawling satire on a European age of decline and the tragicomic adventures of a dreamy painter of nudes, his colorful models and spinster benefactors, an American art swindler, an unlucky Paris taxi driver, a savage gang girl, and an amusing cast of supporting actors, living or not, as a wave of social anarchy crashes through France. Their absurd saga begins for purely artistic reasons high in the foggy, sheep-covered Pyrenees where the Basque people, who have lived forever, are wisely ignoring the turmoil in the lowlands, plunges into the melodramatic mayhem of the City of Light as the rotten elite and clueless bourgeoisie alike cower before hordes of suburban riffraff thundering at the walls, then wends through a nonlinear series of unlikely coincidences to a nice bar in California on a deadly coastal road, before arriving at a postcard paradise in Mexico where a beach artist dashes off paintings at sunset of those who, deserving or not, survived.
Working away to finish “The Old World Dies” by publication day, Jan. 15. Champagne and foie gras is helping with this process, however. Merry Christmas all you readers, and remember to pre-order my novel often, right here: http://tinyurl.com/y7rtqdt4
“The Old World Dies” is a dystopian-lite tableau of a European age of final decline about a down-and-out painter, his spinster benefactors and his exotic models, as well as one very unlucky taxi driver, as they struggle against great odds to survive a tragicomic wave of chaos washing over Paris and threatening to send them and their desperate last dreams into the abyss. Their absurd and spicy tales carry the brave reader through a Boschian world where the narrative slope plunges from the luminous heights of the Pyrenees and dark-eyed Basque country into the mayhem of the City of Light and its forlorn suburbs, thence by several wacky twists of fate to a nice bar along the dangerous coastal roads of California, before arriving at an ersatz paradise on the western shore of Mexico where a gentle beach artist dashes off a painting of the lucky few survivors at sunset.