The reason I chose this book initially is that it was written in the 1960s and tragically the author committed suicide in 1969 at age 32 without it ever being published. His mother found the manuscript and pounded the pavement to get a publisher to read and publish it. The novel went on to win a Pulitzer Prize, and has now become a classic.
Given that I generally don't read books written in the 60s (unless it's a classic), and avoid any book claiming to be 'funny' for fear of cringeworthy slap-stick humour that is ha-ha funny, I was more than pleasantly surprised to find myself totally engrossed in this book!
The wit and vocabulary of Ignatius Reilly had me laughing at almost every page, wishing I had his talent for speech and conversation. Ignatius is almost an anti-hero; he is fat, lazy and full of excuses, however somehow I was cheering for him and his eccentric ways.
I loved this book and would recommend it to anyone who appreciates this kind of humour. (I tried to find a good quote from the book to include here, but I couldn't choose, and you really need the context to appreciate the humour).
My rating = *****