Spike Magazine

Spike | 15 YEARS OF BOOKS, MUSIC, ART, IDEAS | www.spikemagazine.com
The eclecticism and depth of Fischer’s interests
shows through in the subject matter of his books.
Under The Frog is an achingly funny account of the
horrors of Soviet-era Hungary. The Thought Gang
gatecrashes the screaming spires and ivory towers
of academia with an irreverent pisstake on ‘the biz’
of philosophy. Meanwhile, his forthcoming novel attempts
to navigate through the history of art. Fischer
is one of those rare writers who can grapple with
huge agenda without trivialising it.
“I like to give people a few mental lozenges to suck
on, “ he says, half-jokingly. But Fischer’s comedy
is often black and always honest. Under The Frog
exposes Cold War insanity by drawing attention to
its sheer absurdity. Absolute power turns some people
into absolute pricks. Similarly, in The Thought
Gang, he swipes at that other absurd god, Mammon.
“Unquestionably, bank robbery is an illusion,” observes
the bank robbing philosopher Eddie Coffin.
“You take it out but where does it end up? In a bank.
Like water, money is trapped in a cycle, it moves
from bank to bank. We take it out for some fresh air.”
So what is the genesis of this prodigious comic talent?
That rich vein of traditional Hungarian stand-ups?
BUY Tibor Fischer books online from and
Fischer courts psychotic envy by claiming his humour
comes quite naturally. He is effortlessly, flippantly hip.
“The trouble with Nietzsche…” reflects the dissolute
Coffin, “…is that you can never be sure when he’s doing
some levity or not.”
Apres seminar The Lift fleshes out as the regular Do
Tonguers arrive for the evening show. Fischer reads first
from Under The Frog, a poignantly hilarious scene in
which a dying Hungarian peasant is hauled out of bed
and propped against a gate for the purposes of a Soviet
propaganda film. Next, a bank robbery and one-sided
Russian roulette incident from The Thought Gang.
It’s a passage pitched somewhere between Hunter
S. Thompson and Quentin Tarantino, but couched in
Fischer’s inimitable vernacular: “…the risk with going
forward was the bloodshed and the feel of zephyrs in
the gutshangar. It was getting close, armpit wettingly
close to chamber-clearing time and letting the ballistics
sort things out, when we heard sirens, the sonic harbinger
of the filth.”
Afterwards there is just time for the author to traffic
a few thoughts. When asked what he’d be doing if that
59th letter hadn’t been a “yes”, Fischer replies, “Probably
journalism. Or working in a leper colony.” �
217
More
Spike
email
RSS
Facebook
Twitter
A
B
C
D
E
F
G
H
I
J
K
L
M
N
O
P
Q
R
S
T
U
V
W
X
Y
Z