Review: One midlife crisis and a Speedo

by Darryl Bristow-Bovey (Zebra Press)

Nobody could have chosen a more apt read.

At just the right age, with many of the same – read technological – hang-ups, I found myself laughing uproariously with (as opposed to at) this popular author.

Having hit a critical point in his life, ajudged by him to be mid-life crisis age, 43 years – a number close to Douglas Adams’s “answer to life, the universe and everything”, 42, this is the age when Bovey contends one “feels the need to do more, something different, while you still can”.

Our hero duly decides he must complete a challenging quest of some description.

Having already braved swimming with sharks on an excruciatingly funny trip to the KwaZulu-Natal south coast, where “a big brute with a notched fin side-eyes him with a worryingly casual air”, as though Bovey were “a wallet lying on a sidewalk” the writer sets himself the task of swimming the Dardanelles – one of the Turkish Straits between Europe and Asia.

Since the poet Lord Byron – described as a “shrimpy, runty poet with weight issues and a gammy leg” – has completed the swim before him, Bovey feels he must be capable of swimming the channel, particularly when he is overcome with the romantic notion of meeting his Hero; aka partner, aka girlfriend Keren who will be, waiting for him on the far shore.

This book documents the build-up to the big swim, including some of the trials of his mid-life crisis.

There is the pending marriage of his mate whom he does not want to see wed; the Banting diet (which I would never have realised could be viewed in an amusing light) as well as a back injury scene made all the more hilarious because I’ve been in the same crumpled position myself.

Hangovers take on a whole new meaning with advancing years and the mysteries of things like “Cloud devices... new bits of technology with the letter i- in front of it”, and transgender politics, make a brief appearance and those of us with an aversion to shopping can readily identify with the clothes-buying scene.

It is ages since I’ve enjoyed an autobiographical-type read as much as I did this one. Bovey’s writing is self-deprecating, yet with a cocky self-assured undertone which makes it obvious why quirky comedian, John Vlismas, was one of the lucky few to have been allowed a squiz prior to publication. Highly recommended.