Last Orders

Last Orders

Book - 1997
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Four men gather in a London pub. They have taken it upon themselves to carry out the last orders of Jack Dodds, master butcher, and deliver his ashes to the sea. As they drive towards the fulfillment of their mission, their errand becomes an extraordinary journey into their collective and individual pasts. Braiding these men's voices, and that of Jack's widow, into a choir of sorrow and resentment, passion and regret, Swift creates a testament to a changing England and to enduring mortality.



"Swift has involved us in real, lived lives...Quietly, but with conviction, he seeks to affirm the values of decency, loyalty, love."--New York Review of Books


"A beautiful book...a novel that speaks profoundly of human need and tenderness. Even the most cynical will be warmed by it."--San Francisco Chronicle
Publisher: New York : Vintage International, 1997, c1996.
Edition: First Vintage International edition
ISBN: 9780679766629
0679766626
Branch Call Number: SWIFT G
Characteristics: 294 pages : illustrations ; 21 cm.

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EmilyEm
May 06, 2010

?Last Orders' means more things than the title for this book. Three friends Ray, Lenny and Vic and a ?son' Vince accompany the ashes of Jack whose dying request is that they scatter his ashes at sea at Margate. More ?last orders.' Missing on this day-long excursion is Amy, his wife. The action takes place in the here and now and in the memories of these characters. The day they drive to Margate, with several diversions on the way, is a trip with lots of memory for these men who participated in WWII or saw their lives changed by it.

The 1997 Booker prize winner is a story with little action, great vernacular dialogue, compelling characters and a lot of love for Amy. Agree about the movie. Great cast.

Also read his more recent 'Making an Elephant: Writing from Within.'

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harrythedirtydog Nov 30, 2016

...Vic picks up the box and flips open the flaps at the top with his thumb.
He feels inside the box and slowly pulls out a plastic container. It looks like a large instant-coffee jar, it's got the same kind of screw-on cap. But it's not glass, it's a bronzy-coloured, faintly shiny plastic. There's another label on the cap.
'Here,' Vic says and hands the jar to Lenny.
Lenny takes it, uncertain, as if he's not ready to take it but he can't not take it, as if he ought to have washed his hands first. He don't seem prepared for the weight. He sits on his bar-stool, holding it, not knowing what to say, but I reckon he's thinking the same things I'm thinking. Whether it's all Jack in there or Jack mixed up with bits of others, the ones who were done before and the ones who were done after. So Lenny could be holding some of Jack and some of some other feller's wife, for example. And if it is Jack, whether it's really all of him or only what they could fit in the jar, him being a big bloke.

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