I didn't like it. And frankly, I don't care if critics think this author is a great writer: for me, he didn't try very hard to invent this delirious story. A story that neither intrigued nor involved me, because it was written too forcefully just to hit the reader, just for the sake of it, hitting him with strong expressions every two lines. Well, maybe this is what I found cloying: that the author still uses this banal means, that is, using strong words and expressions, to hit the reader. Maybe it was a gimmick that was functional 50 years ago, and it worked, but today, where in reality we are surrounded every moment by strong expressions and situations like those we find in this book, well, then, I really think that the author didn't try too hard, and that the result is a banal forcing that no longer works. I read many reviews that shout about this phenomenal author, but I don't agree with them at all and I believe that they are spread by those who have an (economic) interest in doing so, perhaps because the publisher gave them the book in exchange for a bribe. A reader worthy of the name is hungry for something more original than this stuff.
The two protagonists (original title "Not forever, but for now") are Otto and Cecil, two teenage brothers, from a rich family in the Welsh countryside. Their bored life is spent watching nature documentaries, sodomizing each other, writing letters of challenge to the murderers in prison and killing the service staff. Here is the main course of the book. The two kill because they have nothing to do and also because we discover after a while that murder is a family business, carried on above all by Grandpa, with a capital letter, as if he were a great founding father of a family tradition (how banal, this too ...). Then there is the Mom, a drug addict who perhaps killed the Dad, perhaps for a story of adultery. The pages continue with gruesome murders of gardeners, drivers, waiters, butlers and the various positions in which the two sodomize each other, so much so that already at page 100 I was so bored that I thought of stopping reading; but not wanting to believe that was all there was to it, I continued. Unfortunately I discovered that instead it was all there was to it...In fact, the Grandpa has now identified Otto as his heir and pushes him to get busy with his work as a killer, in an increasingly absurd spiral and with descriptions of the murders that are increasingly banally splatter. The story is told in the first person by the younger brother, Cecil, who in this absurd and twisted journey explains to us how the two brothers kill the staff to practice, in view of future jobs. In the 300 pages of the book, the author makes us discover a rotten world and wants to insinuate in us the doubt that there is a rotten reality, closer than we believe. But it is sufficient to watch any newscast to have no doubt that this rotten reality exists, and therefore reading this book adds nothing. The more I think about it, the more it seems to me that it is a question of the author's delirium of superiority, as if he were saying to the reader: "See how well I write? See what scandalous stories I write? Now you can make a good impression by telling your friends that you read me and that you like me!" I don't fall for it: one star and bye bye.