No-one could mistake this novel for anything other than the work of an Angry (or at any rate Disgruntled) Young Man. It paints a clear picture of just-post-war England - Wain began it in 1949 - with all the baggage of its period, the dinginess, squalor and discomfort of life for many, depressed mood, battered landscape and a sense of weariness; little wonder that Wain noted a tendency for people to look back and an overall lack of zest.
Having heard HoD described as funny, and in search of a laugh, I launched in but soon ran aground and could only refloat after a lengthy break.. The beginning is slow and uncertain in direction; although Wain claimed to have plotted later chapters, the form is basically picaresque throughout. Despite a pervasive, at times almost smothering, sense of drabness there are some entertaining passages (alas too few), when anti-hero, Charles Lumley, confronts characters he meets on his erratic way. Wain's ear for dialogue is good, some characters are well-observed, but the tone is more often sour than generous or amusing. Generally, I found Lumley's bottomless capacity for self-pity as dreary as other features of the background and remain in the dark about why anyone might owe him a living. Most characters are unpleasant, hypocritical, deceitful, on-the-make in some way and when things get melodramatic, they become not just downbeat but murky. Eventually, bafflingly, everything seems to come up roses for Charles (can't be totally sure of this) with the help along the road of numerous coincidences that would make even Dickens blush. Yes, you guessed, this was not my book but AYM aren't my favourite and I might just have read my last.