Hey Yeah Right Get A Life

Hey Yeah Right Get A Life

ISBN: 0099284227
Pages: 192

Helen Simpson’s “breakthrough” collection is a series of loosely linked stories about women at work, at home, on holiday.  

Jonathan Cape, 2000; Vintage, 2001; Knopf, 2001—renamed Getting a Life; Emece of Buenos Aires, 2003; Miskal of Tel Aviv, 2009; Kein&Aber of Zurich, 2010


Lentils and Lilies
Café Society
Hey Yeah Right Get a Life
Millennium Blues
Burns and the Bankers
Hurrah for the Hols


“No, I did not imagine I was the first person ever to have a baby. But life as I was seeing it in these new scenes was utterly different from the myths which had prepared the way. The writer in me was standing at the edge of a field of untrodden snow….After a while I realised I was tackling sensitive contentious subject matter, not least the wincingly tender areas of how women combine (or do not combine) paid work with motherhood, and how even the blindest of bats must eventually see it’s parenthood that gender-politicises relationships. And I could feel that these were painful areas where it is often hard to be truthful with one’s self, let alone with other people. No wonder so many writers, women as well as men, had avoided such subject matter like the plague.”

From Helen Simpson’s 2006 introduction to Hey Yeah Right Get a Life


"They ran around her and across the landing, ignoring her, screeching, singing, bellowing insults and roaring into the stairwell.  She pulled vests and socks and jumpers from various drawers, stepping around them like a slave during a palace orgy.  Their separate energies whizzed through the air, colliding constantly, as random as the weather.  She grabbed Martin as he shot past and started to strip off his nightclothes.

"No!" he yelled and tore himself free, running off trouserless.  He was as quick as she was slow.  It was like wading through mud after dragonflies."

From Hey Yeah Right Get a Life

"Never had an evening gone on quite like this before.  Those on her table had been bearing each other company for many hours like a little band of passengers in a lifeboat, and were now sagging with fatigue and alcohol.  When yet another tartan-clad lassie walked up to the microphone clasping her hands soulfully before her, several of them clearly wished to lay their heads on the tablecloth in front of them and give up."

From Burns and the Bankers


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