April 4, 2011

Cocktail Talk: My Uncle Oswald

When we think of Roald Dahl, we (and here, I’m talking for the world, like an old tottering professor type) tend to think of him as not being ripe for Cocktail Talk posts, cause he’s probably best known for books in the Children’s section (fantastical, imaginative, adults-read-them-too books, though), such as James and Giant Peach, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and more. However, he started as a short story writer, and wrote non-Children’s-section books as well, including a silly-ly naughty one supposedly pulled from the journals a fictitious Uncle Oswald. Oswald was supposedly the greated fornicator of all time, thanks in part to the Sundanese Blister Beetle (which when ground up was a sex bomb of sorts). Oswald’s adventures start, however, listening to a description of whiskey on a hot day:

‘One evening,’ he began, ‘I was sitting on the verandah of my bungalow way upcountry about fifty miles north of Khartoum. It was hot as hell and I’d had a hard day. I was drinking a strong whiskey and soda. It was my first that evening and I as lying back in the deckchair with my feet resting on the little balustrade that ran round the verandah. I could feel the whiskey hitting the lining of my stomach and I can promise you there is no great sensation at the end of a long day in a fierce climate than when you feel that first whiskey hitting your stomach and going through your bloodstream.’


–Roald Dahl, My Uncle Oswald

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