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He Died With A Felafel In His Hand

3.7 of 5 stars 3.70 · rating details · 1,041 ratings · 88 reviews

These are the memoirs of 29 year old John Birmingham, who has shared houses and apartments with 89 people and kept notes on all of them.

Paperback, 214 pages

Published May 15th 2000 by Duffy & Snellgrove (first published 1994)

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He Died With A Felafel In His Hand by John Birmingham

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Dec 13, 2012 David Sarkies rated it 3 of 5 stars Recommends it for: Australians

Recommended to David by: Some American

Shelves: comedy

John Birmingham wrote so much better when he was writing gonzo journalism style rather than the sci-fi books that he seems to have written of late, but then again he seems to sell books, and the books that he did write early on pretty much set him up to the point where he could pretty much write what he wanted to, so I guess more power to him. Anyway, while I do not know what the experience of share housing is in England (and I understand that there is a lot of it there), the feel of this book...more John Birmingham wrote so much better when he was writing gonzo journalism style rather than the sci-fi books that he seems to have written of late, but then again he seems to sell books, and the books that he did write early on pretty much set him up to the point where he could pretty much write what he wanted to, so I guess more power to him. Anyway, while I do not know what the experience of share housing is in England (and I understand that there is a lot of it there), the feel of this book is that it is distinctly Australian, and having been in a number of sharehouses myself I can seriously relate to what he is describing here (though I must admit he has probably embelished the stories somewhat, but then again why let the truth get in the way of a good yarn?).
I guess I should do what others have done when commenting on this book, and that is talk about some of my sharehousing experiences, and I must admit that I have had a lot. The average time that I have spent usually about two months, though there have been a couple where I have lasted about two years (though one of them have a more itinerant population) and the shortest would probably have been about two weeks. Okay, I guess one may need to define the idea of a sharehouse as being one where you are sharing with more than one other person, though sometimes the actually definition of a person living in a house can be rather dubious. One house we had was originally intended for two off us, but as soon as he picked up a girl (he always had to have a girlfriend) she immediately moved in, and then another guy decided to camp in the lounge, and within two days he also brought his friend around as well. Mind you, this particular house lasted two weeks before the police kicked in the door and arrested the lot of us.
Then there were the Findon Flats, a collection of about two hundred flats were while there were only two of us living in the flat, the entire flats were like one community, there were always people coming and going. Mind you one of my friends was a small time drug dealer, so that is probably why there were always people coming and going. One of the cool things about living there was that people would come in, hang for about half-an-hour, smoke some weed, and then leave. However, the problem with living with drug dealers is that once somebody hooks onto you as a drug dealer, they suddenly become frequent visitors. Oh, and the fact that your flat also becomes a target for thieves seems to outweigh the benefit of getting free drugs.
I also lived in what is pretty much termed as a party house. It was a large, two story, six bedroom house in one of the wealthier parts of Adelaide with a pool and a spa. The problem with the spa was that it always broke down. However, we actually had ten people squeezed into that house at one time, which made using the rather small kitchen an absolute pain. However that house brings back lots of memories, including the parties (which wouldn't be a party unless the cops rocked up at least once, and usually multiple times). I still remember the time that my mate and I decided to cook some pasta using dope butter, and suddenly having the sensation of being stoned hit us so hard that we were literally flat on our back for hours.
That house came to an end because the landlord simply could not get anybody int the house, and I was too much of a stoner (read lazy and paranoid) to actually attempt to get others to move into the house. We did finish my time in that house off with the mother all all parties which only came to an end when my friend pretty much came close to killing himself by flaking out on a concrete step. That friendship circle also came to an end pretty quickly also since the mother of all hangovers literally turned us all against each other.
Hey, I'm still sharehousing, this time in Melbourne, and I do desire to try to keep the tradition of it by not staying in the house for too long. Okay, now that I am 700 km away from my parents, I do not have the luxury of running back to their house when things go wrong, and moving can be a pain, at least I have learnt from my mistakes and can at least prepare myself to consider moving on before things get too bad. However, the problem is that I have found a good church within walking distance, though nothing is ever that permanent, and since Paul the Apostle never really set his roots down anywhere for too long, I don't think I need to either.(less)

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Oct 01, 2010 Goldenwattle rated it 3 of 5 stars

This book was amusing, but there were so many incidents that I began to doubt the truth of it. I too lived in shared houses for several years and although there were incidents, nothing on the scale of what happened in this book.
I was trying to remember incidents that did happen. Definitely no drugs. But the first group house I lived in – a three bedroom house, but there were up to five people in it at times – would be the closest to those examples in this book. But still nowhere near as wild and...more This book was amusing, but there were so many incidents that I began to doubt the truth of it. I too lived in shared houses for several years and although there were incidents, nothing on the scale of what happened in this book.
I was trying to remember incidents that did happen. Definitely no drugs. But the first group house I lived in – a three bedroom house, but there were up to five people in it at times – would be the closest to those examples in this book. But still nowhere near as wild and no drugs. We were in it for eleven months and only ever held one party, but the police did turn up and tell us to quieten down. And not all the guests were invited, some just turned up. They had been out cruising looking for parties, as many did pre the internet. The only reason we managed to rent the house was because the previous tenants had been kicked out and left it a bit of a mess. (Now, they probably would have fitted into the book.) And one of our group was a policeman, although he was hardly ever there, always off on assignments. In retaliation for being evicted, the previous tenants cut water pipes, left a bag of dead rabbit hanging on the clotheslines and stuffed more whole rabbits down the drains. They left a car wreck in the front garden and bits of car and motorbike parts scattered throughout the garden. The house was furnished, but some of the furniture would collapse regularly. The stove hot plates only worked full on, the oven had to be propped shut with a broom and the fridge iced up so badly it had to be defrosted every second week (ideally it should have been done weekly). And a kitchen cupboard door fell on me. The old fashioned oil heater blew up in a couple of the tenants’ faces as they were attempting to light it, blackening them and the ceiling, because, oh, no, they didn’t need to listen to the serviceman’s instructions on how to light it. I was the only one who did, and therefore the only one who could light it without it blowing up in their face and blackening the ceiling.
We had various personalities living in the house. One woman would bring home a different man almost every night, which would be a bit of a problem if she found someone else also sleeping in her room. I never did figure out if she got paid by her “guests”. Another stole from us and was caught wearing someone else’s underwear. She left after she became pregnant. Another I suspect was borderline manic depressive. She would go through periods of giving things away. (I still have a glass jug and matching glasses given to me.) Another had the worst PMT I have ever met. Say anything, no matter how harmless, and she would snap. This same person would borrow money and although she would pay it back the following pay day, she would not get the money from her bank account before that when the person who had loaned her the money said they were now short of cash. “I won’t get money from my bank account,” she’d say. So the person she owed money to would have to get money from their account instead, because they had leant her money so she wouldn’t have to get money from her account. She thought that was quite logical and fair and you were selfish to disagree. The woman with the lease in her name believed even in the dead of winter she should be able to walk around the house in a short sleeved t-shirt and the rest of us would share the excess heating bill so she could. And her bedroom window was partly open for fresh air on the coldest night. She would go out and leave a heater on in her room for hours so it would be warm when she got home. If it happened now I would turn it off, but I was younger then and shy. She also got upset if you changed a blown light bulb, because that deprived her of the thrilling opportunity of asking her boyfriend to do it. One amusing incident happened on one of the rare occasions the policeman tenant was home. He answered the door (not in uniform) with a beer can in his hands. It was one of the previous tenants come to pick up mail. He said to the policeman, “Whatever you do, don’t tell the cops I was here.” It was all I could do not to roll on the floor laughing. The police would regularly call looking for the previous tenants.
I shared another house for several years (okay, I was the owner of this one), and this one was fairly tame (no doubt because I was the owner). One tenant I suspect might have been schizophrenic. At times she would not use her name, saying she was only an X. She also kept all her shed hair in a bag in her bedroom which I found creepy, and hardly bathed so that she stunk something awful. For years after she left, her bedroom retained an odour. One tenant only stayed two weeks because she was on the run from an ex-boyfriend who owned about a dozen guns. I accompanied her to the police and she moved out to my relief. Another who only stayed two weeks suffered from epilepsy. What was scary about her was that she had a car licence and drove. I saw her have an attack and it’s scary just thinking about her behind the wheel of a car. Others stayed for years in the house, so I must have been a reasonable landlady. One lady suffered obsessive compulsive disorder. She would foot stomp her way to the bathroom each morning, waking the house, then stomp in the bath. Wouldn’t / couldn’t stop after complaints. She would clean up around us as we cooked. On at least one occasion I came home to the other tenant in tears after being upset by her behaviour. But our house was always very clean while she lived there.
Like John Birmingham, I too kept (brief) notes about the other tenants in my diary. I also kept brief notes on the people in other houses in my street. Two households sold heroin, another house was used for storing stolen goods, a local thief lived in another (the son of one of the heroin dealers from one of the previous mentioned houses was like his apprentice), another house contained a paedophile (very sad, his daughter, who he assaulted, was later murdered by her boyfriend). The heroin houses were raided after a chief inspector/superintendent? in the drug squad moved in with my female neighbour and saw the comings and goings. They had a surveillance camera set up and all. A taxi driver was caught too, bringing regular customers. The house holding stolen goods was raided twice, always in the middle of the night. Very dramatic, they would floodlight the house. And if I understood correctly the Maltese lady across the road (never have been able to speak Maltese), a murderer once lived in my house. Maybe that explains the ghost one of my tenants swore haunted us.
My street is more gentrified now and I haven’t made notes for years, so my present neighbours can rest easy.
I wonder if any of my fellow tenants wrote notes about me?(less)

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Sep 07, 2010 Kevin Klehr rated it 5 of 5 stars

I read this many years ago when John Birmingham wrote it while still writing articles for the Rolling Stone (I think).

It's the embellished account of thirteen share households he actually lived in across major Australian cities during the 1980s. Very funny. It's easy to relate to as you recognise the personality types that you may have met or lived with back in the day.

There was a movie version made of this, but I don't recommend the film. There is no real plot in the book, which makes it a fasc...more

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Dec 09, 2012 Yudhit rated it 3 of 5 stars

Recommended to Yudhit by: Liam Prince

This book was a birthday gift from my dearest friend Liam, in his way of introducing Australian culture and society.... The book was intended to make me laugh I guess, but considering it was a non- fiction book which was an actual real story, I could not help myself not to get bitter. Maybe because I am maturing, maybe because I live in eastern society, maybe because I had 2 children which causing me paranoid on my children's future life.... ha..ha..ha

Actually though I grew up as a muslim woman...more This book was a birthday gift from my dearest friend Liam, in his way of introducing Australian culture and society.... The book was intended to make me laugh I guess, but considering it was a non- fiction book which was an actual real story, I could not help myself not to get bitter. Maybe because I am maturing, maybe because I live in eastern society, maybe because I had 2 children which causing me paranoid on my children's future life.... ha..ha..ha

Actually though I grew up as a muslim woman in and eastern society, I was and am quite open minded on people and culture surrounding me, and in my youth days I must admitted that I was rebellious and try most of anything I could get my hands on.... but compared to the stories in this book, my experiences were NOTHING!!.

There were many hilarious things happening and many crazy ideas in the book, some made me laugh, some made me wonder... I mean it was funny for me only when I limited it as something come out of imaginary or a set up situation in a movie. But to think of it as a real experiences, I could not help myself not to get bitter. It did not disgusts me, rather it make me scared on how far the possibility of my children lingering in the same horrified situation until they can actually claim their own personality? Will they be able to embrace the adventure and adrenaline rush at their young age without being sinking too deep? Will they be able to enjoy their youth days but still have the strengh to say no to to whatever that will lead them to destruction?

As a parent I can only do what ever I can, hope for the best and pray for them, as it will be their life and their own decisions.

Nevertheless, Liam always know the perfect gift for me... from a rubber devil duck which he said a totem resemblance to my personality, delicious chocolates, a sexy red lingery for my 30th (ha..ha..ha), book about faithfullness which make feel that I am only human, and humourous book and DVD when I realy needed to laugh.

I am thanking him for our friendship... :)
(less)

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Jul 31, 2011 Steve rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

This book is hilarious, laugh out loud funny. I used to read this while on my way to work on the tram and got some very strange looks from my fellow passengers because of my laughter. It's ok, they probably just thought I was one of those mental cases. John Birmingham has lived with such people, and here he tells us about them. We have stories about housemates who come home drunk and piss in the fridge, housemates who get into screaming arguments over which cupboard shelf the can of pineapple ch...more

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Sep 29, 2007 Joe rated it 5 of 5 stars

great paragraph:

We all smoked way too much. If you took all the shit we smoked in just one year and rolled it into one big joint, it would be so much bigger than the biggest joint you have ever seen that you would need to smoke two really big joints just to deal with the concept of its incredible bigness.

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Mar 19, 2012 Ms Tlaskal rated it 5 of 5 stars

I finished 'Leviathon' in January and wanted to check out what else he had written. This is a chronicle of his life in a series of share houses, interspersed with vignettes by people he has lived with. For a clean freak (which I am not) it makes stomach-turning reading; the rats and roaches, the fish finger 'cuisine' and the procession of seemingly pleasant flatmates who become weird once they soak into the unique emotional broth that each house seemed to become. It makes gripping yet queasy rea...more

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Feb 18, 2013 Anna Domańska rated it 2 of 5 stars

Shelves: horrible, non-fiction, ridiculous-title

Maybe fifteen+ years ago upon first reading this as a teen, I would have rated this higher. Having lived through my own experiences in share housing, being around drug users and other things I have in common with the author, the embellishment and outright fiction really grates.

There is tons of sexism, racism, classism and every other -ism you'd care to mention. I understand that the author is a misanthrope but the whole book has a spiteful and cruel tone.

I have also read the graphic novel versi...more

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Jul 31, 2011 Steph L rated it 4 of 5 stars

Hilarious! I had heard about this book while travelling in Australia and doing the whole share house thing. It definately made me feel better about my messy, loud roomates. I do feel though, that some of his stories are a stretch of the truth, but I could be wrong. Maybe it's just wishful thinking. This book was hilarious and disgusting and I'd recommend it to anyone who has ever had a sharehouse in Australia. Though the book takes place mostly in Brisbane, he does pass through Sydney as well wh...more

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Nov 28, 2012 Rachel Eldred rated it 3 of 5 stars

I vaguely remember watching the 2001 film ‘He Died With A Felafel In His Hand’, starring Noah Taylor. I say ‘vaguely’ because I was probably stoned at the time, my brain compromised in the memory department. I do remember, however, that it was strange. But, then, I like ‘strange’.

The book is less strange; more nostalgic. It made me laugh, but it also horrified me. I spent part of my 20s lost in the world of share accommodation, and it wasn’t pretty. Most of it was spent under the influence of dr...more I vaguely remember watching the 2001 film ‘He Died With A Felafel In His Hand’, starring Noah Taylor. I say ‘vaguely’ because I was probably stoned at the time, my brain compromised in the memory department. I do remember, however, that it was strange. But, then, I like ‘strange’.

The book is less strange; more nostalgic. It made me laugh, but it also horrified me. I spent part of my 20s lost in the world of share accommodation, and it wasn’t pretty. Most of it was spent under the influence of drink or drugs, in houses in Sydney that should have been condemned.

I remember I would make pacts with the cockroaches. They could roam my room as much as they wanted, but land on my bed and they were dead. They were also goners if they made any noise; the slightest rustle of a plastic bag and STOMP! Also if they flew. Sydney’s flying cockroaches have haunted me since I was a kid, when I would have to venture to the backyard toilet at my dad’s place in Sydney’s inner west in the middle of the night. I can still hear the crackle of creepy crepe wings as they flew at me.

‘He Died With A Felafel In His Hand’ was a fun, light read that took me back to the not so fun, light days of brown couches (yes, I owned one), milk crates (I had several) and bucket bongs. Bucket bongs were a thing in Queensland, Birmingham writes. They were also a thing in the Blue Mountains, west of Sydney, where my brother had one set up in his room, day and night, after our mum ran away from home with her lesbian lover.

And then there were ‘bulbs’. After a girlfriend’s father introduced us to them at 16, we went to Kmart and bought our own cream dispenser, nitrous oxide bulbs and balloons. We had hours of fun until my girlfriend’s stepfather walked in on us one day, after he heard the sound of the cream dispenser as it went off and filled up a balloon, over and over again.

“What are you two bloody up ta?”

We couldn’t respond, but he cottoned on pretty quick, grabbed the bulb paraphernalia and threw it in the bin. That was the end of that. Probably a good thing, in hindsight.

I related when Birmingham wrote: “Always be wary of phrases like, ‘My house is your house. Feel comfortable … Just treat it like your home.” I fell for it once, and before I knew it my housemate had a psychotic meltdown because I’d laughed at a scene on ‘The Simpsons’. Apparently you were not to laugh when he fought with his girlfriend. It was insensitive.

I related less to the fish fingers. My cheap meal of choice back in the day was pasta with a sauce made of canned kidney beans and tomatoes, grated cheddar cheese sprinkled on top. It’s the only meal I ever made, because, you know, I loved animals and was vegetarian.

Birmingham took me on a journey back to my lost youth. It was some trip.

*

PS My kids aren’t gonna get away with half as much – I hope!
(less)

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Dec 06, 2009 Anthony Eaton rated it 4 of 5 stars

I loved this book. Most Australians will be familiar with JB from his various endeavours in many and varied writing fields - blogger, author, columnist and no doubt lot of others. Most Aussies will also be familiar with He Died With a Felafel... from the big screen version of it, starring Noah Taylor (what happened to him, by the way?)

The blurb on my copy reads "John Birmingham has lived with 83 people and kept notes on all of them. This is their story." And he has. And it is. In plot terms, the...more

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Jan 04, 2013 Andrew Saul rated it 4 of 5 stars

This book can be read in two couple of hour sittings. And that's how it should be read. It's the perfect length, any longer and it with start to become boring. As is it is an excellent read that will resonate with anyone who has share-housed before (though I'd bet not many have done it as roughly as this) and make everyone laugh who reads it. No nonsense or bravado here, just the plain facts: they're scary and outlandish enough by themselves. All killer, no filler.

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Jan 09, 2013 Camilla rated it 1 of 5 stars Recommends it for: no-one

Shelves: fifty-recommendations

This was recommended to my by an online friend- I really didn't enjoy it, possibly in part because I was expecting a different kind of book. This is a very blokey book, full of casual sexism that I just couldn't ignore. It did make me think of some of the house shares i've been in, but I hated the way it was laid out and the stories of drug taking got boring very fast (like hanging out with people doing endless buckets can do). \Perhaps I just need to be Australian to enjoy this?

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Nov 23, 2012 Andrew rated it 3 of 5 stars

Funny little meander down memory lane, about shared housing. Jumps around a lot, but paints a mostly accurate ! portrayal of the kind of madness encountered when house or flat sharing. The world highlights it's absolutely abstract nature when you start hitting lots of different personalities and sharing their worlds. Like a prolonged type of speed dating, usually with plenty of substance abuse. Sounds awesome...

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Aug 06, 2012 Shadow rated it 4 of 5 stars

At one stage in recent Australian history this book was a must read for anyone venturing out into their first share house experience.
funny, brutal and with some elements of truth about it (names changed to protect the stupid or the like). Also a little more personal for me having been told some of the stories within first hand by people who had been there or had helped clean up afterwards.

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Feb 25, 2012 Ria Coffey rated it 4 of 5 stars

This is a hilarious account of share housing through the late 80's and early 90's. Anyone who has share housed will understand and relate to the stories, the freak shows, the drunken, drugged out rampages of debauchery and antics that come from too many strangers sharing a house. I loved this and laughed out loud for the majority of the reading.

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May 03, 2013 Dimity Powell rated it 4 of 5 stars

Shelves: non-fiction

Unexpected (I was first drawn by the title). Hilarious in the wriest way. Perversely as entertaining as watching a slug-full of spag bog slide down your lounge room wall for no apparent reason. Frightfully close to the bone, even if the bone is slightly prosthetic in parts. Exquisitely irreverent. I loved it. If only to remind me how grateful I am to leave that chapter of existence far far behind. Share housing - the best of times. The worst of times. **insert shudder**

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Dec 10, 2010 Sandyboy rated it 2 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: humour

reminded me a lot of every shared house i ever lived in so for that i guess i liked it not sure the home abortion story needed retelling though. birmingham is better at this kind of writing then his feckin awful weapons of choice thriller - but guess which made him more money?

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Feb 20, 2013 Danika Zoë rated it 3 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: city-library

I read this years ago, back when I was in high school. Since then I've lived in group houses. Although mine were far more savoury than Birmingham's, I've seen enough that the things that happen in HDWAFIHH seem far less fantastic, and rather less ridiculous than on the first reading.
Still a good yarn, though.

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Jul 31, 2012 Justsal rated it 5 of 5 stars

Anyone who has ever shared a flat / apartment / house with other people - Will relate to this character and laugh out loud at the experiences he describes. It also has awesome references to the city of Brisbane. A place I called home for nine years.

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Oct 17, 2012 Andrew rated it 3 of 5 stars

Like many memoirs I can't help but think these are embellished. Laugh out loud funny and quite creative with the additional inserts on each page. Got a little tired by the end but finished with a big laugh and some irony to boot.

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Sep 20, 2010 lance rated it 5 of 5 stars

awesome aussie book, anyone who has lived in share housing can relate to some of these stories.... but i doubt anyone other than john birmingham could have gone thu all of this + put up with so many wierd living arrangments

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Aug 17, 2012 Patrick Johns rated it 2 of 5 stars

Hmmm. . . Some funny bits, blokey zeitgeist fiction, but nowhere near the stylish Nick earls (zig zag street), the atmospheric Andrew Mcgahan (praise) or the superb nick Hornby (high fidelity)

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Sep 26, 2012 Annie Louise rated it 3 of 5 stars

I really enjoyed this book, however I found the side stories a real distraction from the main one and it frustrated me. Overall I found it pretty funny though - very real and relatable.

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Jan 02, 2010 Jody rated it 5 of 5 stars

Sharehouse hell and heaven - all these impossible situations.

Inspired stage and screen reproductions. The stage show is great fun the screen is disapointing.

A galloping read.

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Dec 19, 2011 Amylaurab rated it 3 of 5 stars

Funny and recognise a lot of the situations from living in a lot of shared houses. However found the small boxes with little "case stories" in disruptive to reading the main text.

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Oct 08, 2011 Nerida Hart rated it 3 of 5 stars

quite enjoyed the outward chuckles this book provided. Loved the little quirky stories... not sure if it deterred me from moving out, or made me what to do it more....

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Jul 25, 2010 Loop rated it 5 of 5 stars

I picked this up secondhand for 50c It was worth so much more than that I laughed out loud from start to finish. I'm tempted to find and read The Tasmanian Babes Fiasco next

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Apr 08, 2007 Galindo rated it 4 of 5 stars

A collection of anecdotes about sharing house in Australia. The title refers to the opening story of the narrrator finding his housemate on a bean bag "as cold as the felafel in his hand" from a heroin overdose. I laughed from cover to cover. It is uniquely Australian in its telling and humour. Having said that, I think any person would understand the experience and jocularity.
There are also blurbs from former house mates scattered throughout the book dispensing their wisdom. One of these was a...more

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Apr 03, 2013 Introubleagain rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: comedy

I love this book, it reminds me of when I was house sharing and some of the people I shared with, along with some of the ones I went to Uni with.

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About John Birmingham

John Birmingham grew up in Ipswich, Queensland and was educated at St Edmunds Christian Brother's College in Ipswich and the University of Queensland in Brisbane. His only stint of full time employment was as a researcher at the Defence Department. After this he returned to Queensland to study law but he did not complete his legal studies, choosing instead to pursue a career as a writer. He curren...more

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