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Narrated by Rosalyn Landor
Marie PhillipsUnabridged — 9 hours, 19 minutes
Narrated by Rosalyn Landor
Marie PhillipsUnabridged — 9 hours, 19 minutes
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As it traces Neil and Alice's sweet and predictable little love plot, Phillips's novel sometimes threatens to descend as well, into something like bathos. But for the most part her nonchalant transposition of the ancients into post-postmodern life is seamless, amusing and blessedly unpretentious.
—The New York Times
Marie Phillips's first novel, Gods Behaving Badly, hovers somewhere between Pride and Prejudice and an episode of "Bewitched." I'm not complaining; I have an unusually high regard for Elizabeth Montgomery's oeuvre. And Austen got off some good lines, too…The tension doesn't ratchet too high; it's a romantic comedy, after all. The key is to fly through a book like this very fast—on Hermes' wings. But Phillips has an Olympian sense of absurdity, and there's enough ambrosial wit here to seduce most mortals for an afternoon or two on the divan.
—The Washington Post
With a bit of sibling rivalry, some incestuous Greek gods, and good ol' contemporary London, Phillips puts together an amusing epic journey with perhaps a bit less pizzazz than Homer. Jealous of Neil, a mortal, because Alice loves him, Apollo schemes to bring about Alice's demise, but his sister Artemis won't let dead mortals lie. Needing a hero for a journey, she enlists the timid Neil to go into Hades and recover Alice (and save the world while he's at it). Phillips's tale is a delightful flight of fancy into the world of "what would the Greek gods do" that is adequately abridged, though listeners may want to hear the full extent of the characters' exploits. Tom Sellwood delivers in an English accent that works well with the setting. He ably projects the various gods' and goddesses' personas through their dialogue, so Apollo's arrogance is heard as well as Ares' more aggressive personality. Sellwood is at his best as Neil, the dry and mild-mannered engineer who gets caught up in the games of the gods. Simultaneous release with the Little, Brown hardcover (Reviews, Aug. 27). (Dec.)
Copyright 2007Reed Business InformationThe Olympian gods have fallen on hard times. Their power is fading, and as a result they have been living in a house in London for the past 300 years, working at menial jobs and squabbling among themselves. Artemis hires a mortal woman named Alice to clean the house. Apollo falls in love with Alice, and when she rejects his advances, he tricks Zeus into killing her. Artemis takes Alice's boyfriend, Neil, through the portal to the underworld. First they have to get past Charon, conveyor of the dead, and Cerberus, the three-headed dog. This accomplished, they confront Hades, who gives Neil a choice-save the world or save the woman he loves. Phillips imagines a hilarious world that explains all that is inexplicable in our own. She invokes the power of legal precedence, human and godly love, and the power of faith to bring this story to its conclusion. Well written and entertaining, this book is recommended for most libraries.
—Joanna M. Burkhardt
In this disarmingly matter-of-fact farce, the London-based author's debut, the gods of Olympus are living in London and running the world with increasingly diminished powers. The gods have been in London since 1665, when the Plague caused property values to drop. They thrived for a while, but by the present day their townhouse is crumbling and dirty. Now they must conserve their strength to perform their individual responsibilities for the world's upkeep. They all also have appropriate jobs with which to while away some of their endless time-Aphrodite does phone sex, Artemis is a dog walker, Dionysus runs a nightclub. To get back at Apollo for a slight, Aphrodite makes her son Eros, who's trying to become a Christian although he knows Jesus was no god, to shoot the sun god with a love arrow while he's live on stage filming a pilot called Apollo's Oracle for the psychic channel. Apollo falls for the least likely mortal, mousy Alice. A cleaner at the station, Alice is attending the taping with her friend Neil. Alice and Neil are in love but too shy to tell each other. Through Hermes's powers Alice becomes the housekeeper at the gods's house. Lovesick Apollo kisses her but she rejects him. Apollo has vowed to Styx not to harm mortals himself, so he manipulates a decrepit Zeus into sending a bolt of lightning to kill Alice as punishment. Then, wracked with guilt, Apollo visits Neil to apologize but ends up putting out the sun as he falls into a swoon. Artemis enlists Neil as a mortal hero to head with her to the underworld to regain Alice and save the planet. Phillips nimbly creates a present-day alternative universe where belief in the true gods has been replaced by a false Judeo-Christianethos, and she does a particularly fine job envisioning an underworld that is neither heaven nor hell but simply eternal death. Not for the pious, but lots of fun for everyone else.
Phillips's tale is a delightful flight of fancy into the world of " what would the Greek gods do " that is adequately abridged. Tom Sellwood delivers in an Englsh accent that works well with the setting.—-
Phillips’s wildly funny romantic caper stars Greek gods who are living in a run-down townhouse in London, barely making a living and losing their powers. Apollo falls in love with Alice, a cleaning woman, who is in love with Neil, an engineer. Apollo and Neil face off, Alice is killed by lightening, and Apollo falls into a coma, turning the sun off and threatening mankind's existence. Neil makes a perilous journey to the underworld to rescue Alice and bring Apollo back to life. Tom Sellwood undertakes an enormous cast of characters—from sexy, deep-throated goddesses to the whiny Apollo and an assortment of Londoners. The abridgment is flawless, keeping a high-energy pace and offering a barrel of laughs. M.T.B. © AudioFile 2008, Portland, Maine
| BN ID: | 2940172109362 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Penguin Random House |
| Publication date: | 12/11/2007 |
| Edition description: | Unabridged |
| Sales rank: | 1,177,495 |
The tree was standing alone in a sheltered part of the slope. To the untrained eye, the casual passerby, it probably just looked like a normal tree. But Artemis's eye was far from untrained, and she ran through this part of Hampstead Heath every day. This tree was a newcomer; it had not been there yesterday. And with just one glance Artemis recognized that it was an entirely new species, a type of eucalyptus that had also not existed yesterday. It was a tree that should not exist at all.
Dragging the mutts behind her, Artemis made her way over to the tree. She touched its bark and felt it breathing. She pressed her ear against the trunk of the tree and listened to its heartbeat. Then she looked around. Good; it was early, and there was nobody within earshot. She reminded herself not to get angry with the tree, that it wasn't the tree's fault. Then she spoke.
"Hello," she said.
There was a long silence.
"Hello," said Artemis again.
"Are you talking to me?" said the tree. It had a faint Australian accent.
"Yes," said Artemis. "I am Artemis." If the tree experienced any recognition, it didn't show it. "I'm the goddess of hunting and chastity," said Artemis.
Another silence. Then the tree said, "I'm Kate. I work in mergers and acquisitions for Goldman Sachs."
"Do you know what happened to you, Kate?" said Artemis.
The longest silence of all. Artemis was just about to repeat the question when the tree replied.
"I think I've turned into a tree," it said.
"Yes," said Artemis. "You have."
"Thank God for that," said the tree. "I thought I was going mad." Then the tree seemed to reconsider this. "Actually," it said, "I think I would rather be mad." Then, with hope in its voice: "Are you sure I haven't gone mad?"
"I'm sure," said Artemis. "You're a tree. A eucalyptus. Subgenus of mallee. Variegated leaves."
"Oh," said the tree.
"Sorry," said Artemis.
"But with variegated leaves?"
"Yes," said Artemis. "Green and yellow."
The tree seemed pleased. "Oh well, there's that to be grateful for," it said.
"That's the spirit," Artemis reassured it.
"So," said the tree in a more conversational tone. "You're the goddess of hunting and chastity then?"
"Yes," said Artemis. "And of the moon, and several other things. Artemis." She put a little emphasis on her name. It still hurt when mortals didn't know it.
"I didn't know there was a goddess of hunting and chastity and the moon," confessed the tree. "I thought there was just the one God. Of everything. Or actually, to be honest, I thought there was no God at all. No offense."
"None taken," said Artemis. Unbelievers were always preferable to heretics.
"I have to say you don't look much like a goddess, though," added the tree.
"And what does a goddess look like, exactly?" said Artemis, a sharpness entering her voice.
"I don't know," said the tree, a little nervously. "Shouldn't you be wearing a toga or something? Or a laurel wreath?"
"You mean, not a tracksuit," said Artemis.
"Pretty much," admitted the tree.
"Times change," said Artemis. "Right now, you don't look like somebody who works in mergers and acquisitions for Goldman Sachs." Her voice indicated that the clothing conversation was closed.
"I still can't get over the fact that you're a goddess," said the tree after a pause. "Wow. Yesterday I wouldn't have believed it. Today ..." The tree gave an almost imperceptible shrug, rustling its leaves. Then it seemed to think for a bit. "So does that mean, if you're a goddess," it said, "that you can turn me back into a person?"
Artemis had been expecting this question.
"I'm sorry," she said, "but I can't."
"Why not?" said the tree.
The tree sounded so despondent that she couldn't bring herself to reply, as planned, Because I don't want to. "A god can't undo what another god has done," she found herself saying instead, much to her own surprise. She hated admitting any kind of weakness, especially to a mortal.
"You mean that guy was a god too? The one who ... did this. Well, I suppose it's obvious now. I kind of hoped he might be a hypnotist."
"No, he was a god," said Artemis.
"Um," said the tree. "Could you do something about that red setter? I don't really like the way it's sniffing around me." Artemis pulled the idiot dog away.
"Sorry," she said. "So what happened exactly?"
"I was just taking a walk yesterday and this guy came up to talk to me-"
"Tall?" said Artemis. "Blond? Almost impossibly handsome?"
"That's the one," said the tree.
"What did he say?" said Artemis.
The bark on the tree seemed to shift slightly, as if the tree were making a face.
"I, um ..."
"What did he say?" Artemis asked again, allowing a hint of command to enter her voice.
"He said, 'Hello. Do you want to give me a blow job?' "
A blow job. Why did people do these things to each other? Artemis felt faintly sick.
"I said no," continued the tree, "and then he said, 'Are you sure, because you look like you'd be good at it and I think you'd really enjoy it.'"
"I'm very sorry," said Artemis, "about my brother. If it were up to me he would not be allowed outside unsupervised."
"He's your brother?"
"My twin. It's ... unfortunate."
"Well, anyway, I just walked off, and he followed me, and I got a bit scared and I started running, and then the next thing I knew ... here I am."
Artemis shook her head. "This isn't the first time something like this has happened," she said. "Rest assured, we will be having words about it."
"And then he'll turn me back?"
"Absolutely," lied Artemis.
"No need to tell my family back home what happened, then," said the tree. "Good. Maybe I should call in sick at work though. I can't really go in like this. I had my phone with me; it should be around here somewhere. Could you dial my boss's number and hold the phone to my trunk?"
"Mortals aren't going to be able to understand you, I'm afraid," said Artemis. "Just gods. And other vegetation. I wouldn't bother talking to the grass, though. It isn't very bright."
"Oh," said the tree. "Okay." Artemis gave the tree time to absorb this information. "Why aren't I more upset about this?" it said eventually. "If you'd told me yesterday that I was going to be turned into a tree, I'm sure I'd have been really, really upset."
"You're a tree now, not a human mortal," explained Artemis. "You don't really have emotions anymore. I think you'll be much happier this way. And you'll live longer, unless it gets very windy."
"Except your brother's going to turn me back."
"Of course he is," said Artemis. "Right, then. I'd best be getting on. I've got to get these dogs back to ... my friends." "It was nice meeting you," said the tree.
"Likewise," said Artemis. "Bye, then. See you soon. Maybe."
The pleasant look on her face vaporized before her back was even fully turned. The dogs saw her expression and whimpered as one. But they had nothing to fear from Artemis. It was time to go home and find Apollo.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Gods Behaving Badly by Marie Phillips Copyright © 2007 by Marie Phillips. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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