Mordecai Richler Books

Even Barney Panofsky's friends tend to agree that he is 'a wife-abuser, an intellectual fraud, a purveyor of pap, a drunk with a penchant for violence and probably a murderer'.

From his youthful days as a poolroom hustler, playing truant from Baron Byng High School, Mordecai Richler remained a snooker devotee. Here, in his inimitable style, he delves into that eccentric world with pith and perception. Outrageously funny, passionate and thoroughly researched on snooker tables from Montreal to Dublin, On Snooker takes us on an entertaining journey through the story and world of snooker, and introduces us to the game’s great players and bad boy champions. It is a book that lovers of great sports writing will cherish, from a masterful storyteller.

Since the age of 11 Moses Berger has been obsessed withthe Gursky clan, and insanely wealthy, profoundly seductive family of Jewish-Canadian descent. Now a 52-year-old alcoholic biographer, Berger is desperately trying to chronicle the stories of their lives, especially that of the mysterious Solomon Gursky, who may or may not have died in a plane crash.

"Among the wonders of St. Urbain, our St. Urbain, there was a man who ran for alderman on a one-plank platform - provincial speed cops were anti-Semites. There was a semi-pro whore, Cross-Eyed Yetta, and a gifted cripple, Pomerantz, who had a poem published in "transition" before he shriveled and died at the age of twenty-seven. A boxer who once made the "Ring" magazine ratings. Lazar of Best Grade Fruit who raked in twenty-five hundred dollars for being knocked down by a No. 43 streetcar. A woman who actually called herself a divorcee. A man, A.D.'s father, who was bad luck to have in your house. And more, many more."

At just six years old, Jacob Two-Two finds himself imprisoned by The Hooded Fang for the grave offense of insulting an adult. This whimsical tale explores themes of childhood innocence, the absurdity of adult authority, and the power of imagination as Jacob navigates his bizarre predicament. His adventure unfolds in a fantastical world where he must confront challenges and outsmart his captor, ultimately highlighting the resilience and creativity of a young mind facing unjust punishment.

The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz is the novel that established Mordecai Richler as one of the world’s best comic writers. Growing up in the heart of Montreal’s Jewish ghetto, Duddy Kravitz is obsessed with his grandfather’s saying, “A man without land is nothing.” In his relentless pursuit of property and his drive to become a somebody, he will wheel and deal, he will swindle and forge, he will even try making movies. And in spite of the setbacks he suffers, the sacrifices he must make along the way, Duddy never loses faith that his dream is worth the price he must pay. This blistering satire traces the eventful coming-of-age of a cynical dreamer. Amoral, inventive, ruthless, and scheming, Duddy Kravitz is one of the most magnetic anti-heroes in literature, a man who learns the hard way that dreams are never exactly what they seem, even when they do come true. From the Trade Paperback edition.

A humorous look at Quebec's movement toward independence from Canada, remarking upon the Draconian language laws imposed on English-speaking Quebecois, the economic problems posed by the movement, and the troubles with blind nationalism.

"In 1944, I was aware of three youth groups committed to the compelling idea of an independent Jewish state: Hashomer Hatza'ir (The Young Guard), Young Judaea, and Habonim (The Builders). Hashomer Hatza'ir was resolutely Marxist. According to intriguing reports I had heard, it was the custom, on their kibbutzim already established in Palestine, for boys and girls under the age of eighteen to shower together. Hashomer Hatza'ir members in Montreal included a boy I shall call Shloime Schneiderman, a high-school classmate of mine. In 1944, when we were still in eighth grade, Schloime enjoyed a brief celebrity after his photo appeared on the front page of the Montreal Herald. Following a two-cent rise in the price of chocolate bars, he had been a leader in a demonstration, holding high a placard that read: down with the 7cents chocolate bar. Hashomer Hatza'ir members wore uniforms at their meetings: blue shirts and neckerchiefs. "They had real court martials," wrote Marion Magid in a memoir about her days in Habonim in the Bronx in the early fifties, "group analysis, the girls were not allowed to wear lipstick." Whereas, in my experience, the sweetly scented girls who belonged to Young Judaea favored pearls and cashmere twinsets. They lived on leafy streets in the suburb of Outremont, in detached cottages that had heated towel racks, basement playrooms, and a plaque hanging on the wall behind the wet bar testifying to the number of trees their parents had paid to have planted in Eretz Yisrael, the land of Israel. I joined Habonim -- the youth group of a Zionist political party, rooted in socialist doctrine -- shortly after my bar mitzvah, during my first year at Baron Byng High School. I had been recruited by a Room 41 classmate whom I shall call Jerry Greenfeld..."