The Big Sleep (1939) is a famous hard-boiled crime novel by Raymond Chandler. It was so good Hollywood made it into a 1946 movie with Humphrey Bogart.

Furious with rage about both of them, a British farmer has written The Big Sheep (2024) in a fit of demented lunacy.

The novel is about a large sheep that goes about the place a bit like Godzilla, baaing at immense volume between bouts of grazing and meandering aimlessly. We read it so you don’t have to!

Themes of Destructive Domesticated Ruminant Mammals With a White and Woolly Coat in… The Big Sheep!

“The sheep was phantasmagorical. It let forth a blood-curdling, ‘BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!’ A roar so mighty in its loudness Big Ben fell over on its arse and crumpled in a heap. Indeed, London was laid to waste as the Big Sheep did demolish over the landscape while looking for a pleasant grazing spot. Such carnage did it cause! Not even a chav could stop its rampage.”

The Big Sheep bears no real relation to The Big Sleep, other than the title being somewhat similar (apart from one letter… try to guess which one, Einstein).

The author, Farmer Jefferson, lives in Cornwall.

Frustrated that sheep don’t get the recognition they deserve, he’s written this work as a means to showcase how an enormous sheep bigger than a skyscraper would bring more attention to the sheep-based cause.

In an exclusive interview, Farmer Jefferson told us:

“Everyone’s always droning on and on about stuff and things like Johnny Ray and Elvis and Lonnie Donegan and George Formby and Arthritis Franklin. No one ever talks about sheep! It’s a crying shame, too, because without them you, me, you, and I… we’d all be dead! Fact of the matter is, at the end of the day, what it boils down to, is sheep have ensured mankind ain’t dead. Mark my words! That’s why I’ve done and what written that there here this book and it’s a great book. Get it bought or I’ll drive over your house with me combine harvester!”

It’s since transpired Mr. Farmer Jefferson has destroyed 12 homes via combine harvester as people aren’t bothering to buy his book.

Whilst we don’t condone such aggressive marketing tactics, we do applaud Mr. Farmer Jefferson’s unique solution to low sales figures.

Baa Baa Black Sheep and the Curious Case of Chapter Three

Chapter three of The Big Sheep is something of a Lost Weekend of a chapter.

It’s unclear what happened to the author for him to do this, but it seems likely he was abducted by aliens and had unspeakable acts performed upon his person.

Either that, or he was drunk. Take this paragraph:

“Malodorous as the wind, the Big Sheep is but oh but oh. Oh my gosh. Gosh! The Big Sheep and the tree. The tree and the Universe. Genghis Khan and the tree. OMG. There are more trees than there are sheep (fight me about it). The Big Sheep. Moo.”

This rambling is also supported by a list called The Pillock List. This appears to be the author listing a list of everyone he considers to be a “pillock”. It’s 13 pages long, but here’s a brief excerpt:

“Geese are pillocks,
Cheese makers are pillocks,
People who ain’t farmers are pillocks,
Mouthwash users are pillocks,
You know Guardian readers? They’re pillocks!
Pillocks are pillocks.”

On and on it goes. It really gets quite tiresome to read, before the chapter devolves into a series of barely legible wails and screams (typed out) that continue for several pages.

It’s an odd one! But what else do you really expect from a book titled The Big Sheep?!

Reaction From the Sheep-Based Literary Community

Sheep literature may have only an obscure cult following, but the community went baalistic once The Big Sheep was published. So far there have been riots across the UK and someone even created a big stockpile of haggis and set fire to it.

All in the name of protesting against The Big Sheep.

The Sheep Literature Community director, Lord John Johnson III, told us in an exclusive interview:

“The man who wrote The Big Sheep is a dickhead and I’m gonna find him and slap him about the place. Slap him silly! The slap is a challenge to a duel, which will take place in Norwich via the use of cannons.”

It’s unclear whether Mr. Farmer Jefferson has accepted this duel. If he doesn’t, well… then he’s a bloody chicken, isn’t he!? Buck, buck, buck!