Back in the days when I had pretensions of becoming a writer I discovered what other readers have surely discovered simply by reading, namely: in order to give interest to a story the author needs to hurt his characters. I found this disconcerting and distasteful. You take time and thought and words to help bring a character to life and then you have to hurt him, physically or psychologically, just to get your story moving. I have since found that there are various ways authors handle this. One way is to dwell on the happy ending which is coming for - at least - the protagonist. Another way, often employed by the sad authors who win Nobel prizes is to dwell on the pain and suffering. But Tom Sharpe has developed a third way; create despicable, hateful characters who you can enjoy punishing. Some characters may flourish for awhile, but their utter downfall is assured. Need I add, mua-ha-ha? I think not.
I enjoyed The Midden, more even than Mr. Sharpe's school stories. Here are plenty of characters you will love to hate and a few you may find - mostly - sympathetic. Or just pathetic. The writing, as usual, is sharp and dry. One of my fellow Goodreaders complained about the obscenity and I can agree that even as hardened a modern reader as I've become, some things still jolted. But when dealing with corruption naturally some obscenity is required; as obscene as a burst boil.
Under the Sharpe whip in this outing are yuppies, gangsters, police officials, former colonials, the wealthy, social workers, conservatives, compulsive liars, old people, middle-aged people, lesbians, straights, sadomasochists, body fixaters, Maggie Thatcher, and - of course - hypocrites.
I have to admit that this was well done in the confines of a novel. The tempo is high, the smiles are many even if the laughs out loud are few. Everybody gets their just deserts, nearly, though quite a few get unjust deserts. Left on the field, neither bloody nor unbowed are a retired hermit and an aging spinster.