We’ve been given three copies of the Smut by Alan Bennett by the lovely folk at Faber & Faber. We’ve found two homes so far and have one left to give away to a would be reviewer.
All you need do by 5th May is tell us in the comments box below why you should get your hands on a copy. We’d like you to be as imaginative as possible playing with the word Smut!
The one we deem most amusing will win the gorgeous little book and have their review featured on the website!
I would like a copy due to the fact I have led a smuttless life and I’m in need of some guidance by a higher being.
I’d like to review it as I have a passing interest in Leeds writers and love AB. Unfortunately, I have no sense of humour, generally hate fun and am always too late for anything interesting. So even if I did win I’d send it to Richard.
A review of Smut is a surefire way of bringing smutty Googlers to my arts and entertainment website!
I once saw Alan Bennett in Lancaster Morrison’s. It was New Year’s Eve. He was buying a bottle of bleach and a cabbage. Since then I have suspected a deep affinity with the man. Besides, I think Alan’s version of smut would be of a variety I could cope with: curiously old fashioned and entirely inoffensive to older laides in twin sets.
Ooh, I wish I’d been in that Lancaster Morrisons. I’ve only ever seen Alan Bennett in Leeds railway station, and he wasn’t buying anything. Though oddly enough I was on my way to Saltaire, where I saw David Hockney in Salts Diner so I did a bit of a double-take.
I’m only a few years younger than Alan, and my mother tells me she didn’t dare to leave my pram outside our Beeston house for too long because of the smuts which would clog my nose – those same smuts which turned the Town Hall and industriual Leeds black. Of course he grew up in leafier suburbs so I’m guessing that’s not not the sort of smut he’s writing about.
I wonder if he plays with the fact that “smut” is “tums” spelt backward? If so I would be sure to bring it out in a review but not in such a way as to make the reader feel intellectually inferior. If there isn’t, I reckon Tom Bailey sounds like he’d do a pretty good job.
They asked me how I knew my true love was true
I of course replied – something deep inside cannot be denied
They said – someday you’ll find all who love are blind
When your heart’s on fire you must realise
SMUT gets in your eyes…
My first cat was called Smut and I would like to know how he managed to write a book as cats, in general, don’t have thumbs which would hamper a handwritten first draft. Also, I was not aware of any unseemliness that he was involved in. As he is now in the great cattery in the sky reviewing this book would allow me in an insight into his hitherto private lives (all 8 of them!).
I’ve sent my entry under plain wrapper to Emmas Post Office Box account as it is too smutty to show here.
Well, Emma’s made it hard for me but I’ve been on the job all night and this is what I’ve come up with
There was a young lady from Leeds,
Who charged to perform dirty deeds,
(The rest Emma’s cut,
It’s nothing but smut,
Fit only for those dirty Swedes)