A couple great sentences from "A Star Called Henry". Evocative and thought provoking. On the one hand you have the stillness of the rural landscape through which the group rides - there is no rumble of automobiles, no hum of factories at work, no hustle of an urban population always on the move, nothing to disturb the unison of multiple bikes working together. And this is a key, these are not individuals each going their separate way. This is a group acting in concert, and with a purpose, to which the bike is a most appropriate tool. The imagery of the second sentence, though is even more interesting and compelling. Of all the sounds one imagines, or remembers, about war - explosions, rifle fire, shouted commands, screams, the roar of engines - how would one even consider the simple whir of bike chains as being in the same category? Yet the bike's simplicity and nimbleness makes it the perfect means of mobility against a much more powerful and heavily equiped foe, a foe that could not be matched armor against armor, engine against engine. But a bike can be concealed, is virtually silent, and is a common, everyday tool of the working man. Thus is its power, and thus the whir of bike chains become one of the great sounds of war.
A Star Called Henry is written by Roddy Doyle, and published by Penguin Books, 1999
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