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A Big Stink

A Tale of Ardor and Odor

Illustrated by Sophia Vincent Guy
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Hardcover
$15.99 US
5.34"W x 7.28"H x 0.69"D   | 11 oz | 44 per carton
On sale Sep 07, 2021 | 112 Pages | 9781984859570
A delightfully illustrated story about passing gas and passing the buck, by a renowned scholar of gastrointestinal humor who has seen and smelled it all.

The marriage of flatulence and wordplay is a potent source of pleasure as old as language itself. So says Edward H. Kafka-Gelbrecht, who has spent a lifetime studying the art of the unclaimed fart, from the courtroom to the convent. Now, in this illustrated tour de force, he airs a more personal story about a quiet elevator ride that is shattered by an ignoble gas. Starting with the classic “He who smelt it, dealt it” and the indignant riposte “She who denied it, supplied it,” the repartee heats up as the elevator rises. Can a reek that drives people apart instead bring two hearts together?

A Big Stink’s beguiling blend of highbrow and lowbrow humor will delight oversharing families and word lovers alike. Illustrator Sophia Vincent Guy ramps up the fun with elegantly detailed illustrations sprinkled with Easter eggs. Sure to reduce even the most solemn adults to irrepressible giggles, A Big Stink is a ripping good read and a breath of foul air.
“All farts should be so elegant.”—Gary Shteyngart, author of Absurdistan

“This book is a gas and I don’t give a toot if you disagree.”—Chris Colin, author of What to Talk About
Edward H. Kafka-Gelbrecht is a leading scholar of gastrointestinal humor. His celebrated study “Layman’s Terms: Dropping Knowledge” traces the use of the phrase “stink egg” among New England retail sales associates in the late 1970s. Additional works, including “British Nasal Defenses” and “Ü Did It: The Great Bowel Shift,” are available on microfiche. He lives with a parrot, Péter, and a cat that will not reveal its name. View titles by Edward H. Kafka-Gelbrecht
Sophia Vincent Guy is an architect turned illustrator, widely recognized as an expert visual interpreter of Edwardian comportment. In her Mediterranean studio, she transforms olfactory ambiance into visual motifs for audiences of all ages. View titles by Sophia Vincent Guy
Dear Editors,

The Sumerians carved it in stone. The Romans loved it in Latin. Chaucer let it loose in Middle English. Shakespeare refined it and left his audience gasping in the aisles. Gastrointestinal humor is as old as civilization itself—the diversion of kings, the pastime of the rank and file.

I am the author of more than a dozen academic articles on gastrointestinal humor. My work plumbs the depths of anatomy, etymology, volcanology, musicology, military ordnance, and cheese science.
“Run Silent, Run Deadly”—my explosive pamphlet on the Soviet submarine mutiny during the infamous Naval Cabbage Surplus of 1983—received a starred review in Intestinal Tracts, the official organ of the Society of Digestive Literatures. Perhaps you have encountered my self-published monograph, “Personal Exhaust”?

My life′s work has been to trace each risible emission to its obscure source. And yet, too often we scholars busy ourselves with rearguard actions, stagnating in the stale air of our ivory towers

After sifting through centuries of badinage, I believe I have at last succeeded in distilling the essence of one fragrant strain of mirth: I refer to the universal desire to determine the status of the flatus, the owner of the groaner, whom to thank for the “stank”—that is, the need to breezily assert that we, ourselves, are not the author of the cougher.

I submit to your publishing house the first-ever historical account of a crucial moment in the denial of the vile. It has remained a tightly held secret within my family. The time is ripe to give it wide release.

The following tale begins one balmy August afternoon in New York City, many years ago. . . .

Sincerely yours,
Edward H. Kafka-Gelbrecht

About

A delightfully illustrated story about passing gas and passing the buck, by a renowned scholar of gastrointestinal humor who has seen and smelled it all.

The marriage of flatulence and wordplay is a potent source of pleasure as old as language itself. So says Edward H. Kafka-Gelbrecht, who has spent a lifetime studying the art of the unclaimed fart, from the courtroom to the convent. Now, in this illustrated tour de force, he airs a more personal story about a quiet elevator ride that is shattered by an ignoble gas. Starting with the classic “He who smelt it, dealt it” and the indignant riposte “She who denied it, supplied it,” the repartee heats up as the elevator rises. Can a reek that drives people apart instead bring two hearts together?

A Big Stink’s beguiling blend of highbrow and lowbrow humor will delight oversharing families and word lovers alike. Illustrator Sophia Vincent Guy ramps up the fun with elegantly detailed illustrations sprinkled with Easter eggs. Sure to reduce even the most solemn adults to irrepressible giggles, A Big Stink is a ripping good read and a breath of foul air.

Praise

“All farts should be so elegant.”—Gary Shteyngart, author of Absurdistan

“This book is a gas and I don’t give a toot if you disagree.”—Chris Colin, author of What to Talk About

Author

Edward H. Kafka-Gelbrecht is a leading scholar of gastrointestinal humor. His celebrated study “Layman’s Terms: Dropping Knowledge” traces the use of the phrase “stink egg” among New England retail sales associates in the late 1970s. Additional works, including “British Nasal Defenses” and “Ü Did It: The Great Bowel Shift,” are available on microfiche. He lives with a parrot, Péter, and a cat that will not reveal its name. View titles by Edward H. Kafka-Gelbrecht
Sophia Vincent Guy is an architect turned illustrator, widely recognized as an expert visual interpreter of Edwardian comportment. In her Mediterranean studio, she transforms olfactory ambiance into visual motifs for audiences of all ages. View titles by Sophia Vincent Guy

Excerpt

Dear Editors,

The Sumerians carved it in stone. The Romans loved it in Latin. Chaucer let it loose in Middle English. Shakespeare refined it and left his audience gasping in the aisles. Gastrointestinal humor is as old as civilization itself—the diversion of kings, the pastime of the rank and file.

I am the author of more than a dozen academic articles on gastrointestinal humor. My work plumbs the depths of anatomy, etymology, volcanology, musicology, military ordnance, and cheese science.
“Run Silent, Run Deadly”—my explosive pamphlet on the Soviet submarine mutiny during the infamous Naval Cabbage Surplus of 1983—received a starred review in Intestinal Tracts, the official organ of the Society of Digestive Literatures. Perhaps you have encountered my self-published monograph, “Personal Exhaust”?

My life′s work has been to trace each risible emission to its obscure source. And yet, too often we scholars busy ourselves with rearguard actions, stagnating in the stale air of our ivory towers

After sifting through centuries of badinage, I believe I have at last succeeded in distilling the essence of one fragrant strain of mirth: I refer to the universal desire to determine the status of the flatus, the owner of the groaner, whom to thank for the “stank”—that is, the need to breezily assert that we, ourselves, are not the author of the cougher.

I submit to your publishing house the first-ever historical account of a crucial moment in the denial of the vile. It has remained a tightly held secret within my family. The time is ripe to give it wide release.

The following tale begins one balmy August afternoon in New York City, many years ago. . . .

Sincerely yours,
Edward H. Kafka-Gelbrecht