John Banville’s Next Novel to be “Sexy Vampire Action Romance”

Dublin –If there is one thing I would not have expected Booker-prize winning Irish novelist John Banville to say during our interview, it’s that he intend to stop writing his uniquely lyrical and yet deeply cynical novels investigating the futility of human endeavours in favour of writing riotously sexy action vampire romances.

Banville said his public image as an intellectual distressed him greatly and was none of his doing.

Banville said his public image as an intellectual distressed him greatly and was none of his doing.

And yet Banville (65), one of Ireland’s greatest living writers, declared his intention to radically change his aesthetic in response to changes in the national psyche.

“One morning, as the sun’s glair in the matudinal sky flared cruelly like the bonfire of all human vanities, a thought trembled fragilely among my stringy and vibrating synapses,” mused Banville as he leafed idly through the pages of Diderot’s 18th century encyclopaedia.

“For decades now, the sight of pale melanochroids gliding imprintless over the concrete grass of Dublin’s cancerous streets has filled me with quiet despair. I have not been fooled by lustrous sheen of the Celtic Tiger’s fur – I have seen its bicuspids glittering in the dark and known that all was folly, that not just our dreams but our very selves were artifices designed to hide from us the knowledge of our inevitable and welcome failure.”

“But now the twilight world has swiftly followed noon’s brief zenith, I thought: ‘Fuck it, John, no one wants to hear about that shit. Write about something with gunfights and tits and teenage vampires and fart jokes. God knows, people could do with some light entertainment.’”

Following his Muse’s clear and strikingly crass voice, Banville has decided to stop writing artworks loved by the few and start writing pulp fiction for the many, who are so desperately in need of cheap escapism right now.

“My initial drafts looked something like this,” said Banville, allowing us the rare privilege of viewing the literary mind at work.

"The last thing Irish people need now is more elegiac and poignant stories of loss," said Banville.

A paragraph read: “Bella was so frightened she could barely see over her gigantically heaving bosom. ‘O Jedward,’ she gasped, turning to her cool, gentlemanly lovers, the vampire twin singing sensations. ‘How can you remain so calm, so manly, so rock hard in the face of these desperadoes with their guns?’ Jedward, their PVC outfits glittering in the sunlight, replied huskily, ‘Stay calm, sugartits. We’re gonna blow them away,’ before turning and farting insolently at their attackers.

Fantastic, I assured Banville, a guaranteed populist triumph.

“I thought so, too,” said Banville, snatching the pages away. “But then I pondered if perhaps my own voice might not be the perfect river for such narrative craft? Plot is mostly inconsequential to me; none of my best books had one. But perhaps this plebeian tale infused with my elegiac musings might bridge the Plutonian chasm between art and the public?”

Banville then showed me the latest drafts of his impending work, The Twilight Sea of the Jedward with the Dragon Tattoos. The earlier paragraph had now been transformed by the master’s idiosyncratic diction and poetic rhythms:

“The raven Bella, only dimly aware of the futility of hot-blooded animal desires in a coldly indifferent universe, was half-blinded by her own tumultuous mammaries. ‘O Jedward,’ she breathed with an air of faintly ludicrous mourning, half-conscious of the Socratic irony of speaking of deep matters of love while Death’s superficial grin drew near. ‘How can you remain so calm, so manly, so rock hard in the face of these desperadoes with their guns?’

"My new book will be much more accessible to air-headed teenage girl dimwits," said Banville.

The melanochroidal twins watched one of the desperadoes trip over a fallen branch and laughed in amazement at the richness of the world, which always has some comfort to offer. ‘Stay calm, sugartits. We’re gonna blow them away,’ they said, curiously feeling their own indifference to the raging gale of flatulence thundering vengefully through their tortuous bowels. As the storm erupted from the contracted sphincters, Jedward felt the faint touch of ridiculousness that always comes with having a body made of liquids and gases, even as the noxious fumes cleared a path to safety.’”

Incomparable, I gushed, a masterpiece to rival Kepler or The Book of Evidence. “This could mean your Nobel,” I said in awe.

“Perhaps,” nodded Banville gravely. “It’s certainly bad enough. But really, I just hope it’s truly awful enough for the public to love it and take their minds off the recession for a while.”

4 Responses to John Banville’s Next Novel to be “Sexy Vampire Action Romance”

  1. john duncan says:

    is this a wind up

  2. John Duncan says:

    I demand an answer.

  3. John Duncan says:

    Still waiting.

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