"What society chooses to call Daniel Adamson's crime is the extreme fondness he has for women's ears. This preference has led Daniel to commit deliberate murder and involuntary arson, to consort with rent girls, even to sink to autobiography as he languishes in a mental hospital. Confession is good for the soul? Daniel confesses in spades. Daniel confesses in buckets and spades. Can he really cajole us into believing that he is an innocent victim of society, upbringing, the ozone layer, biology, O-level history, his own DNA? Can he coax a smile out of us even as he horrifies us? Where do Lola Montez, Miss Jean Brodie, Cleopatra, a priedieu and a pib-corn come into it all? And is Inspector Angus Macbriar really unique in the annals of recorded crime by dint of his utter lack of interesting traits? Slip into this wig and judge for yourself."
I enjoyed the artistry of the work and intelligent use of the English language throughout, much more than the story in the second half which was rather cringy. BUT you are in the disturbed mind of a highly intelligent, incarcerated psychopathic killer which some very strange needs so what does one expect.
not very clever writing but the suspense on this was sick...if it had been a romance i would have said exactly what i said about The Rose of Sebastapol...but it isn't so i read it..all 217 pages of it...without scheming through...without skipping pages...any writer will tell you..getting a reader to read EVERYTHING is no easy feat..so there...but really...ear-sex????...please let this be purely a work of fiction...how?????how????...and i should say this book reminds me so much of Engleby by Sebastian Faulks...only Sebastian gets 11 out of ten while David gets 5...mostly because he shocked me...that's it...i read this book because i couldn't close my mouth..really...ear-sex???...again i pause to ask...how!!!??