T.K. Boomer's Reviews > Edgar's Worst Sunday

Edgar's Worst Sunday by Brad Oates
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it was amazing

Reading “Edgar’s Worst Sunday” gives one a picture of author Brad Oates, scotch in hand, perched precariously on a barstool, with a grin that stretches from there to the pearly gates.  Is he living vicariously through his creation? One wonders. Edgar Vincent, the sybaritic anti-hero of “Edgar’s Worst Sunday” is exploring his just reward, one plucked from his own corporal excesses.  In this heavenly realm vice in all his favourite forms, is simply offered up. Do it again, eternity seems to say.  Do it forever. But there’s a sad fact to all of this.  Edgar is dead, and he has no idea how he got that way.  And playing the bad boy without consequences is just not the same thing.  Thrill-seeking has to be subordinate to solving the mystery of his death but, as Edgar discovers, bad habits and excesses live on.

Brad Oates has created a wonderful portrait of excess, of selfish, hedonistic behaviour and its ultimate cost: painful unflinching self-discovery.
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Reading Progress

Finished Reading
November 3, 2018 – Shelved

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