Flann O’Brien was either mad or a genius. Perhaps, as conventional wisdom has it regarding geniuses, a bit of both. At-Swim-Two-Birds, a genre-defying work, was certainly little regarded when released. The initial printing sold fewer than 250 copies in its first six months.
Brian O’Nolan, who used Flann O’Brien as one of several pen names, was perhaps best known during his lifetime for his journalistic endeavors. For some time he wrote a column for the Irish Times under a different pseudonym. These columns are, by most accounts, nearly as eccentric as At-Swim-Two Birds.
This novel presents the reader with no small challenge. The narrator, a drunken undergraduate, records his struggle to write a novel. His novel, of course, is about another struggling novelist – this one named Trellis. Though the narrator faces scorn from his uncle while writing his novel, Trellis, after a prolonged struggle to force his characters to conform to his wishes, finds that his own characters are plotting against his life.
In addition to the difficulties posed by three, occasionally collapsed into two, different levels of reality, some readers will find O’Brien’s style hard to follow. He omits quotation marks and chapter divisions and, in the voice of his narrator, includes numerous non-sequiturs.
Beyond the structural and stylistic difficulties, the narrator’s novelist’s novel is simply horrible (it also requires knowledge of Irish mythology, so read William Gass’s introduction in the Dalkey Archive edition and keep Google handy). It is no wonder that Trellis’s characters revolt, though this terrible novel within a bad novel within an astounding novel also provides the book’s greatest humor.
All told, it’s a delightfully funny little book with its share of dull spots, some of which are intentional. It served as my introduction to experimental fiction, and I greatly enjoyed it. If you enjoy seeing a writer push the bounds of his times, you also may enjoy At-Swim-Two-Birds.