What do you think?
Rate this book
Parallel Lines
From the best-selling and award-winning author of The Patrick Melrose novels, a hilarious and moving story about a group of wildly different characters whose fates are improbably yet intextricably linked—a novel about extinction and survival, inheritance and loss, written with St, Aubyn’s trademark wit and inimitable style
It’s the summer of 2021, and Sebastian is in treatment following a breakdown that has left him grappling with his fragile grip on reality and his persistent hunger to connect with the biological mother who abandoned him as a child. His therapist, Martin, is facing challenges of his own, including his adopted daughter’s tenuous relationship with her own biological mother—a predicament that makes Sebastian’s struggle feel uncannily proximate to her own. Olivia is producing a radio series on catastrophic natural disasters, which itself seems to be running parallel to the events unfolding in her personal life, as her best friend Lucy faces a grave diagnosis, and her husband, Francis, pursues his mission of re-wilding the world. Over the course of the next year their fates collide in outrageous and poignant ways, as each of their destinies is revealed in a marvelous new light.
With characteristic brilliance and humor, Parallel Lines investigates themes of dualism, determinism, connection and love. St. Aubyn captures the life of the spirit as vibrantly as the life of the mind, in a novel that wrestles with moral and psychic anguish and the cascading consequences of our choices at every stage of life. A thrilling, wholly captivating work from one of the most gifted writers at work today.
It’s the summer of 2021, and Sebastian is in treatment following a breakdown that has left him grappling with his fragile grip on reality and his persistent hunger to connect with the biological mother who abandoned him as a child. His therapist, Martin, is facing challenges of his own, including his adopted daughter’s tenuous relationship with her own biological mother—a predicament that makes Sebastian’s struggle feel uncannily proximate to her own. Olivia is producing a radio series on catastrophic natural disasters, which itself seems to be running parallel to the events unfolding in her personal life, as her best friend Lucy faces a grave diagnosis, and her husband, Francis, pursues his mission of re-wilding the world. Over the course of the next year their fates collide in outrageous and poignant ways, as each of their destinies is revealed in a marvelous new light.
With characteristic brilliance and humor, Parallel Lines investigates themes of dualism, determinism, connection and love. St. Aubyn captures the life of the spirit as vibrantly as the life of the mind, in a novel that wrestles with moral and psychic anguish and the cascading consequences of our choices at every stage of life. A thrilling, wholly captivating work from one of the most gifted writers at work today.
272 pages, Hardcover
First published May 1, 2025
183 people are currently reading
5372 people want to read
About the author
Edward St. Aubyn
35 books1,222 followersEdward St Aubyn was born in London in 1960. He was educated at Westminster school and Keble college, Oxford University. He is the author of six novels, the most recent of which, ‘Mother’s Milk’, was shortlisted for the 2006 Man Booker Prize, won the 2007 Prix Femina Etranger and won the 2007 South Bank Show award on literature.
His first novel, ‘Never Mind’ (1992) won the Betty Trask award. This novel, along with ‘Bad News’ (1992) and ‘Some Hope’ (1994) became a trilogy, now collectively published under the title ‘Some Hope’.
His other fiction consists of ‘On the Edge’ (1998) which was shortlisted for the Guardian Fiction Prize and A Clue to the Exit (2000).
His first novel, ‘Never Mind’ (1992) won the Betty Trask award. This novel, along with ‘Bad News’ (1992) and ‘Some Hope’ (1994) became a trilogy, now collectively published under the title ‘Some Hope’.
His other fiction consists of ‘On the Edge’ (1998) which was shortlisted for the Guardian Fiction Prize and A Clue to the Exit (2000).
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 132 reviews
April 4, 2025
Sebastian is a schizophrenic and is in hospital because his mental health has broken down for several reasons, not least because he wants to meet his birth mother. His psychotherapist Dr Martin Carr has serious concerns about this for very good reason reasons of his own. Meanwhile, Martin’s adopted daughter Olivia has concerns of her own. She’s back at work following looking after her young son Noah and is making a series of programmes on natural disasters. This seems to be a parallel line for issues in her personal life connected to her environmentalist husband Francis who is on a mission to re-wild the world and worries about the health of her best friend Lucy. It transpires that Martin is in a very tricky situation and is on a sticky wicket. Will the situation be a train wreck or something else entirely? It seems the fates have things in store for all of them and it might turn out to be beautiful.
This is intense, sensitive, colourful, poignant and quite moving at times. Sebastian‘s fractured mind at the start is wonderfully written with gorgeous prose and as someone who’s partner has mental health issues his furiously running mind makes me feel emotional. As Dr Carr works his magic and Sebastian becomes calmer, my love for him as a character grows and grows. The way his mind works is truly fantastic, it’s an original entity of beauty which is spellbinding and makes me marvel. His imagination has so much power that I can only describe it as glorious. He is brilliantly captured and depicted by the author and he is a character that will endure for me.
Olivia‘s mind is also a fertile, creative and intriguing place. She is also a lovely person, she’s caring, sympathetic and empathetic. Francis grows on me, there are some lovely scenes towards the end where I re-evaluate him and as for Noah, he’s delightful.
Edward St Aubyn is a very erudite writer, he’s clearly extremely clever and I confess that some of the conversations between characters are a bit too intellectual for me! There is humour and plenty of it which is sometimes the sardonic variety which works for me. There are clever plays on words, especially in Sebastian‘s head which I love.
As a potential storms build and it all begins to connect with parallel lines becoming coincidences, it’s as if the universe is coming together and it’s very satisfying. I love the end with gorgeous Noah capturing it into simple sentences.
I haven’t read Double Blind but this is easily read as a standalone.
Four stars overall but five stars for the character of Sebastian.
With thanks to NetGalley and especially to Random House UK, Vintage for a much appreciated early copy in return for an honest review.
This is intense, sensitive, colourful, poignant and quite moving at times. Sebastian‘s fractured mind at the start is wonderfully written with gorgeous prose and as someone who’s partner has mental health issues his furiously running mind makes me feel emotional. As Dr Carr works his magic and Sebastian becomes calmer, my love for him as a character grows and grows. The way his mind works is truly fantastic, it’s an original entity of beauty which is spellbinding and makes me marvel. His imagination has so much power that I can only describe it as glorious. He is brilliantly captured and depicted by the author and he is a character that will endure for me.
Olivia‘s mind is also a fertile, creative and intriguing place. She is also a lovely person, she’s caring, sympathetic and empathetic. Francis grows on me, there are some lovely scenes towards the end where I re-evaluate him and as for Noah, he’s delightful.
Edward St Aubyn is a very erudite writer, he’s clearly extremely clever and I confess that some of the conversations between characters are a bit too intellectual for me! There is humour and plenty of it which is sometimes the sardonic variety which works for me. There are clever plays on words, especially in Sebastian‘s head which I love.
As a potential storms build and it all begins to connect with parallel lines becoming coincidences, it’s as if the universe is coming together and it’s very satisfying. I love the end with gorgeous Noah capturing it into simple sentences.
I haven’t read Double Blind but this is easily read as a standalone.
Four stars overall but five stars for the character of Sebastian.
With thanks to NetGalley and especially to Random House UK, Vintage for a much appreciated early copy in return for an honest review.
April 4, 2025
4.5, rounded down.
I've read almost everything St. Aubyn has put out, so I started this with great anticipation ... but I got to 9% and something seemed off - I just wasn't connecting to what was happening. So I started again and got to 17% - and then realized the problem was that this was actually a sequel to 2021's Double Blind - which I HAD read, but I have a mind like a sieve and could barely remember anything about it. So - I went back and reread THAT - and then moved on to this.
That was a great help, and although this potentially COULD be read as a stand-alone - it makes MUCH more sense as part two of single cohesive work. That said, this ALSO ends on a distinct hint that there will be at LEAST a third part, and hopefully some dangling threads (not least Lucy's struggle with a brain tumor!) will be resolved there.
Be that as it may, this was largely a delight to read, although some parts did tend to get bogged down and sometimes a bit 'preachy'. But St. Aubyn's wit and erudition made such minor complaints rather nil.
Thanx to the author, Netgalley and Knopf for the ARC in exchange for my honest review.
I've read almost everything St. Aubyn has put out, so I started this with great anticipation ... but I got to 9% and something seemed off - I just wasn't connecting to what was happening. So I started again and got to 17% - and then realized the problem was that this was actually a sequel to 2021's Double Blind - which I HAD read, but I have a mind like a sieve and could barely remember anything about it. So - I went back and reread THAT - and then moved on to this.
That was a great help, and although this potentially COULD be read as a stand-alone - it makes MUCH more sense as part two of single cohesive work. That said, this ALSO ends on a distinct hint that there will be at LEAST a third part, and hopefully some dangling threads (not least Lucy's struggle with a brain tumor!) will be resolved there.
Be that as it may, this was largely a delight to read, although some parts did tend to get bogged down and sometimes a bit 'preachy'. But St. Aubyn's wit and erudition made such minor complaints rather nil.
Thanx to the author, Netgalley and Knopf for the ARC in exchange for my honest review.
May 27, 2025
The Orwell Prize finalist 2025 for political fiction, Parallel Lines is the second instalment of this yet-unnamed and impressive series by Edward St. Aubyn. From the disjointed narrative of Sebastian's psyche to the Freudian-inspired characters orbiting him, this dense novel flaunts psychoanalysis, environmentalism, genetics, identity, and family ties in a dizzying narrative sprinkled with satire, science, and drama.
Parallel Lines was my second St. Aubyn book (thank you, fellow readers, for alerting me that Double Blind is the first in the series, a detail not noticeable). Although it took me some time to sink into the story, rarely have I come across such an intellectually stimulating narrative. The novel opens with Sebastian’s inner thoughts, narrated in the third person. This is noteworthy, as the third-person narration from other characters uses a different, more neutral tone. Aubyn’s choice of a distinct voice for Sebastian’s narrative is compelling, as it draws the reader into his fractured, inquisitive and easily stimulated mind.
Sebastian is a schizophrenic individual, undergoing analysis with Dr. Carr, who also happens to be Olivia’s father. Olivia, Sebastian’s twin sister, is producing a podcast on natural disasters. They don’t know each other. There’s also Noah, Olivia’s genius son with Francis, an accomplished scientist and entrepreneur. Helio is Sebastian’s nurse, his friend, and also a light-painting artist. There are many other characters, each fully developed and realised, not all likable, but human and real nonetheless. Sometimes I had to retrace who was who and from where, but after a while, the dialogues and parallel storylines began to feel organic and coherent. A few notes about the characters might help tracking them.
The plot itself is relatively simple: two adult twins, separated in childhood, are reconnected by chance through unexpected individuals and circumstances. However simplistic the plot may seem, Aubyn’s genius lies not in what happens, but in how it happens. His writing layered with psychological and emotional intricacies, and fully realised, self-absorbed, deeply flawed, and strangely likeable characters. I enjoyed immensely the process of dissecting their behaviours, motivations, and contradictions. Aubyn blends philosophy, biology, and religion into the narrative seamlessly through rich conversations, subtle observations, always with intention, often using irony and rhetorical narrative to persuade, question, and provoke the reader. His observational and informative style works beautifully with the novel’s concern in science, psychoanalysis, class, family, identity, and belonging. There are moments of poignant reflection that are cathartic and hopeful, peppered with tension and irony.
There are occasional references to Double Blind, and here’s my thoughts on the series' structure:
Although nominated for the Orwell Prize, I found the political aspect subtle. These characters are privileged, educated, and wealthy. Their problems unfold in sparkling isolation, without the burdens of common folk. Science and psychoanalysis lovers will devour this book, full of interesting information and argumentation. At the end of the novel, the minutiae of correlations the reader can make, along with their perceptions and judgements on the characters, makes Parallel Lines a lush and rewarding reading experience. Political satire and commentaries are sprinkled throughout the story. Besides, it is a touching and poignant story that shies away from unnecessary drama and gives room to deep, meaningful understanding between siblings, parents, and children.
This is a book best enjoyed by those who enjoy character-driven stories, slow-burning plots, and the pleasure of connecting narrative dots. Science and psychoanalysis lovers will especially appreciate the wealth of detail, argument, and intellectual layering. Parallel Lines is not for everyone. But if you’re someone who enjoys dissecting characters, untangling subtle threads, and being swept up in clever prose, this book is absolutely for you.
Recommended.
Rating: 4.25/5
Disclaimer: I received an Advance Reader Copy (ARC) of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. All thoughts and opinions expressed are my own.
Quotes might differ slightly from the final printed version:
"He mustn’t get so stressed, or so distressed. Although distress sounded like it was the opposite of stress, they were closely related. They weren’t identical twins. The identical twin of stress was stress, and the identical twin of distress was distress, but stress and distress were weirdly related, they had a syllable in common, but an uncommon dis."
"‘Fuck,’ she said, reaching up to support a toppling Noah as he grabbed at the shoots bristling from the burr. Just one moment of inattention, that’s all it took. ‘I mean, whoops. I’m not encouraging you to use that other word.’ ‘Don’t worry, Mama, I don’t need encouraging,’ said Noah. ‘I already used it at nursery.’"
"Did a crucifix count as furniture or interior decoration? Was it an instrument of torture or an instrument for ending torture? Both-And, Hunter, Both-And."
"Compassion is just love in the face of suffering and love does not run out with use – it grows stronger."
"We expect the unexpected to be shocking, which of course it is, in its brassy and sometimes traumatic way, but inevitable things are also shocking when they finally happen, partly because we think we’ve outmanoeuvred them with anticipation whereas, in reality, we may have been secretly building up their impact."
Parallel Lines was my second St. Aubyn book (thank you, fellow readers, for alerting me that Double Blind is the first in the series, a detail not noticeable). Although it took me some time to sink into the story, rarely have I come across such an intellectually stimulating narrative. The novel opens with Sebastian’s inner thoughts, narrated in the third person. This is noteworthy, as the third-person narration from other characters uses a different, more neutral tone. Aubyn’s choice of a distinct voice for Sebastian’s narrative is compelling, as it draws the reader into his fractured, inquisitive and easily stimulated mind.
Sebastian is a schizophrenic individual, undergoing analysis with Dr. Carr, who also happens to be Olivia’s father. Olivia, Sebastian’s twin sister, is producing a podcast on natural disasters. They don’t know each other. There’s also Noah, Olivia’s genius son with Francis, an accomplished scientist and entrepreneur. Helio is Sebastian’s nurse, his friend, and also a light-painting artist. There are many other characters, each fully developed and realised, not all likable, but human and real nonetheless. Sometimes I had to retrace who was who and from where, but after a while, the dialogues and parallel storylines began to feel organic and coherent. A few notes about the characters might help tracking them.
The plot itself is relatively simple: two adult twins, separated in childhood, are reconnected by chance through unexpected individuals and circumstances. However simplistic the plot may seem, Aubyn’s genius lies not in what happens, but in how it happens. His writing layered with psychological and emotional intricacies, and fully realised, self-absorbed, deeply flawed, and strangely likeable characters. I enjoyed immensely the process of dissecting their behaviours, motivations, and contradictions. Aubyn blends philosophy, biology, and religion into the narrative seamlessly through rich conversations, subtle observations, always with intention, often using irony and rhetorical narrative to persuade, question, and provoke the reader. His observational and informative style works beautifully with the novel’s concern in science, psychoanalysis, class, family, identity, and belonging. There are moments of poignant reflection that are cathartic and hopeful, peppered with tension and irony.
There are occasional references to Double Blind, and here’s my thoughts on the series' structure:
Although nominated for the Orwell Prize, I found the political aspect subtle. These characters are privileged, educated, and wealthy. Their problems unfold in sparkling isolation, without the burdens of common folk. Science and psychoanalysis lovers will devour this book, full of interesting information and argumentation. At the end of the novel, the minutiae of correlations the reader can make, along with their perceptions and judgements on the characters, makes Parallel Lines a lush and rewarding reading experience. Political satire and commentaries are sprinkled throughout the story. Besides, it is a touching and poignant story that shies away from unnecessary drama and gives room to deep, meaningful understanding between siblings, parents, and children.
This is a book best enjoyed by those who enjoy character-driven stories, slow-burning plots, and the pleasure of connecting narrative dots. Science and psychoanalysis lovers will especially appreciate the wealth of detail, argument, and intellectual layering. Parallel Lines is not for everyone. But if you’re someone who enjoys dissecting characters, untangling subtle threads, and being swept up in clever prose, this book is absolutely for you.
Recommended.
Rating: 4.25/5
Disclaimer: I received an Advance Reader Copy (ARC) of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. All thoughts and opinions expressed are my own.
Quotes might differ slightly from the final printed version:
"He mustn’t get so stressed, or so distressed. Although distress sounded like it was the opposite of stress, they were closely related. They weren’t identical twins. The identical twin of stress was stress, and the identical twin of distress was distress, but stress and distress were weirdly related, they had a syllable in common, but an uncommon dis."
"‘Fuck,’ she said, reaching up to support a toppling Noah as he grabbed at the shoots bristling from the burr. Just one moment of inattention, that’s all it took. ‘I mean, whoops. I’m not encouraging you to use that other word.’ ‘Don’t worry, Mama, I don’t need encouraging,’ said Noah. ‘I already used it at nursery.’"
"Did a crucifix count as furniture or interior decoration? Was it an instrument of torture or an instrument for ending torture? Both-And, Hunter, Both-And."
"Compassion is just love in the face of suffering and love does not run out with use – it grows stronger."
"We expect the unexpected to be shocking, which of course it is, in its brassy and sometimes traumatic way, but inevitable things are also shocking when they finally happen, partly because we think we’ve outmanoeuvred them with anticipation whereas, in reality, we may have been secretly building up their impact."
April 30, 2025
I struggled with around 80% of this book, which felt a little like a showcase for all the interests of the author, which he wanted to write about and shoehorned into the narrative.
The story involves an extended family and friends group.
Sebastian is a schizophrenic who is being seen by Dr Martin Carr, who lives with his wife, Lizzie (also a psychologist) in London. Carr has 2 children - Charlie, biological son and Olivia, an adopted daughter. Olivia and Sebastian are twins but had not met until Olivia's birth mother arranges an ill-advised meeting at her home. The fallout from these relationships colour the end of the book.
The main part of the narrative is introducing those characters plus many others, whose names I cannot recall, who all seem to be in some form of crisis-either physical, mental or relationship-wise.
I got somewhat lost trying to remember who was married to who, what their problems were and where I'd met them first.
The part of the book that I really enjoyed was at the end when Sebastian and Olivia begin to forge a real relationship. I've no real idea what part a lot of the other characters played other than to pad out the narrative.
Not for me (except the last bit). But if you've enjoyed St Aubyn's other books you will probably enjoy this. The lives contained within it are certainly just as chaotic as Patrick Melrose's.
Thankyou to Netgalley and Random House for the advance review copy.
The story involves an extended family and friends group.
Sebastian is a schizophrenic who is being seen by Dr Martin Carr, who lives with his wife, Lizzie (also a psychologist) in London. Carr has 2 children - Charlie, biological son and Olivia, an adopted daughter. Olivia and Sebastian are twins but had not met until Olivia's birth mother arranges an ill-advised meeting at her home. The fallout from these relationships colour the end of the book.
The main part of the narrative is introducing those characters plus many others, whose names I cannot recall, who all seem to be in some form of crisis-either physical, mental or relationship-wise.
I got somewhat lost trying to remember who was married to who, what their problems were and where I'd met them first.
The part of the book that I really enjoyed was at the end when Sebastian and Olivia begin to forge a real relationship. I've no real idea what part a lot of the other characters played other than to pad out the narrative.
Not for me (except the last bit). But if you've enjoyed St Aubyn's other books you will probably enjoy this. The lives contained within it are certainly just as chaotic as Patrick Melrose's.
Thankyou to Netgalley and Random House for the advance review copy.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
June 25, 2025
Having read and admired the predecessor, Double Blind, I was excited to be given early access to this remarkable book. What I said about that earlier book I could repeat here. He covers a lot of territory with relatively few words. There promises a third installment, and I look forward to it.
Read
April 10, 2025The relationship between the reader and the writer is always a delicate balancing dance that is influenced by all sorts of factors: the reader’s preferred genre, life experiences, whether the prose is “warm” (pulls you in) or “cool” (keeps you at a distance), and all sorts of other things.
Edward St. Aubyn is an amazing writer and his Patrick Melrose series will stand the test of time. His theme – Parallel Lines, lines that are equidistant from each other and never meet, no matter how far they are extended, is a tantalizing one. But for whatever reason, I couldn’t connect. That’s on me, and I urge other readers to try for themselves. I am indebted to Knopf for the early copy in exchange for my honest thoughts.
Edward St. Aubyn is an amazing writer and his Patrick Melrose series will stand the test of time. His theme – Parallel Lines, lines that are equidistant from each other and never meet, no matter how far they are extended, is a tantalizing one. But for whatever reason, I couldn’t connect. That’s on me, and I urge other readers to try for themselves. I am indebted to Knopf for the early copy in exchange for my honest thoughts.
March 28, 2025
Picking up from characters in the brilliant 2021 novel Double Blind, St. Aubyn returns with edgy wordplay and humorous reflection on the hopeless but hilarious human condition.
Sebastian (Seb) is a fast-witted, rapid-fire speaker, thinker and schizophrenic. His twin sister Olivia was adopted at birth by Seb's eventual therapist. While she was nurtured, Seb wasn’t so fortunate. Characters orbit the twins and create a vivid galaxy whether artist, TV producer, tycoon, pilot or cancer survivor. St. Aubyn uses professions and labels with unbound freedom, creating plotlines that feel limitless. Clever storytelling and scene setting make this a highly entertaining read.
Parallel Lines is erudite without feeling forced. While it may not carry the same literary heft as the generational achievement of the Melrose novels, it is giddy fun and composed beautifully. This novel works well as a stand alone or as a complement to Double Blind.
Thank you NetGalley and Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor for the review copy.
Sebastian (Seb) is a fast-witted, rapid-fire speaker, thinker and schizophrenic. His twin sister Olivia was adopted at birth by Seb's eventual therapist. While she was nurtured, Seb wasn’t so fortunate. Characters orbit the twins and create a vivid galaxy whether artist, TV producer, tycoon, pilot or cancer survivor. St. Aubyn uses professions and labels with unbound freedom, creating plotlines that feel limitless. Clever storytelling and scene setting make this a highly entertaining read.
Parallel Lines is erudite without feeling forced. While it may not carry the same literary heft as the generational achievement of the Melrose novels, it is giddy fun and composed beautifully. This novel works well as a stand alone or as a complement to Double Blind.
Thank you NetGalley and Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor for the review copy.
April 16, 2025
This is my first Edward St Aubyn novel - I hadn't read double Blind which is an earlier book that introduces several characters
This is a tale of siblings - identical twins separated at birth and the story of their different paths that lead to a reunion. the book starts from the perspective of Sebastian- the brother and schizophrenic- receiving treatment from Dr Martin Carr.
Dr Carr's adoptive daughter Lucy is navigating life with young son and a husband who re-wilding the world!
This is a 'clever' book- clever in the sense of word play and prose but also in relation to satirising the 'chattering' classes of the London elite/wealthy- but sometimes it feels every sentence is a bit of an' in-joke' - that Mr St Aubyn is on a mission to take an ironic view of the world in such a way that nothing is truly real and it becomes a Guardian article.
The mindset of Sebastian is beautifully constructed as he navigates his understanding of modern life but it is the final quarter of this book that redeems the novel with a sense of warmth as stories are linked and new relationships are made. It would seem from the final line that a sequel may one day appear...
Personally this is a 3.5 for the final part but will give 3 overall - I just felt that wasn't truly into the mindset of the author enough although I can imagine many will be.
This is a tale of siblings - identical twins separated at birth and the story of their different paths that lead to a reunion. the book starts from the perspective of Sebastian- the brother and schizophrenic- receiving treatment from Dr Martin Carr.
Dr Carr's adoptive daughter Lucy is navigating life with young son and a husband who re-wilding the world!
This is a 'clever' book- clever in the sense of word play and prose but also in relation to satirising the 'chattering' classes of the London elite/wealthy- but sometimes it feels every sentence is a bit of an' in-joke' - that Mr St Aubyn is on a mission to take an ironic view of the world in such a way that nothing is truly real and it becomes a Guardian article.
The mindset of Sebastian is beautifully constructed as he navigates his understanding of modern life but it is the final quarter of this book that redeems the novel with a sense of warmth as stories are linked and new relationships are made. It would seem from the final line that a sequel may one day appear...
Personally this is a 3.5 for the final part but will give 3 overall - I just felt that wasn't truly into the mindset of the author enough although I can imagine many will be.
July 19, 2025
I absolutely love how St Aubyn approached Sebastian's character. Often representations of severe mental illness miss the personality beneath someone's diagnosis. Instead, here story we see Sebastian make psychological progress, despite a fragile plan to meet his biomom, and handle new situations with humor, play, and curiosity.
Parallel Lines can function as a standalone novel but is also a sequel to St Aubyn's Double Blind, which I have not yet read. Jumping into this story first, it is clear the characters have a lot of backstory the reader is not immediately aware of. Yet, rather than this being cumbersome, it made the depth of characters immediately apparent. Aside from Sebastian and his psychological issues stemming from a rough childhood, we also see the story lines of his doctor's family: his wife Lizzie who is also a psychoanalyst but currently enjoys spending time with her grandson, Olivia, who is working on a podcast about potential extinction events, her husband Francis who continues his work in rewilding, their son Noah who is fixated on dinosaurs for longer than expected. In addition, we get characters who are friends with Olivia (Lucy and Hunter, who seem to feature more strongly in Double Blind), an artist Sebastian met in the psych ward, and yet never does it feel there are too many characters to keep track of. Their stories initially run parallel to one another but, as expected, eventually converge.
Some of the dialogue was more than I wanted. In particular, the family discussions with the two psychoanalyst parents were often tiring, but overall I found the prose and banter to be witty. There are deep observations about how we make our choices, how our futures are determined, and the way we affect others, but even with such heavy subject matter I found myself smiling more often than not.
Parallel Lines can function as a standalone novel but is also a sequel to St Aubyn's Double Blind, which I have not yet read. Jumping into this story first, it is clear the characters have a lot of backstory the reader is not immediately aware of. Yet, rather than this being cumbersome, it made the depth of characters immediately apparent. Aside from Sebastian and his psychological issues stemming from a rough childhood, we also see the story lines of his doctor's family: his wife Lizzie who is also a psychoanalyst but currently enjoys spending time with her grandson, Olivia, who is working on a podcast about potential extinction events, her husband Francis who continues his work in rewilding, their son Noah who is fixated on dinosaurs for longer than expected. In addition, we get characters who are friends with Olivia (Lucy and Hunter, who seem to feature more strongly in Double Blind), an artist Sebastian met in the psych ward, and yet never does it feel there are too many characters to keep track of. Their stories initially run parallel to one another but, as expected, eventually converge.
Some of the dialogue was more than I wanted. In particular, the family discussions with the two psychoanalyst parents were often tiring, but overall I found the prose and banter to be witty. There are deep observations about how we make our choices, how our futures are determined, and the way we affect others, but even with such heavy subject matter I found myself smiling more often than not.
July 21, 2025
Currently part of a duology, Parallel Lines is a follow-up to Edward St. Aubyn's brilliant Double Blind. While theoretically it can be read as a standalone, I recommend reading Double Blind first, since it provides helpful background material and context. Parallel Lines begins in the mind of Sebastian, who is hospitalized after experiencing a mental breakdown. The story takes off at break-neck speed with thoughts flitting from one to another in a stream of consciousness, reflecting Sebastian’s fragile mental state.
The narrative centers on Sebastian and Olivia, twins who were separated at birth, and have led parallel lives up to this point. Sebastian has experienced trauma early in life and is now desperately seeking a connection with their mother. Meanwhile, Olivia was adopted by two psychoanalysts and has grown up in a nurturing environment. Sebastian's therapist turns out to be Olivia's adoptive father, which introduces several complications. Other key characters include Olivia’s husband, who is trying to rejuvenate nature, their precocious son, and a friend who is suffering from a brain tumor.
The novel explores dualism, determinism, connection, and compassion. It provides psychological insights while showcasing the author’s sardonic sense of humor. It also portrays how formative experiences can shape the course of a person's life. I particularly enjoyed the ending. I liked Double Blind a bit more, but St. Aubyn is an exceptional writer, and I found this book intellectually engaging from start to finish.
The narrative centers on Sebastian and Olivia, twins who were separated at birth, and have led parallel lives up to this point. Sebastian has experienced trauma early in life and is now desperately seeking a connection with their mother. Meanwhile, Olivia was adopted by two psychoanalysts and has grown up in a nurturing environment. Sebastian's therapist turns out to be Olivia's adoptive father, which introduces several complications. Other key characters include Olivia’s husband, who is trying to rejuvenate nature, their precocious son, and a friend who is suffering from a brain tumor.
The novel explores dualism, determinism, connection, and compassion. It provides psychological insights while showcasing the author’s sardonic sense of humor. It also portrays how formative experiences can shape the course of a person's life. I particularly enjoyed the ending. I liked Double Blind a bit more, but St. Aubyn is an exceptional writer, and I found this book intellectually engaging from start to finish.
July 25, 2025
While I’m generally the first person to champion beautiful writing for the sake of itself, I struggle with these more self-indulgent novels by established male authors who spend most of their pages riffing on whatever has captured their interest at the moment with little regard for the narrative that has to exist as a path through these things.
There were some salient points made here, some beautiful passages, some moments of solidly written humor. But most of the book feels like a very thin narrative constructed to prop up the current pet subjects of the author.
If you want to share a lot of discordant thoughts without having to make most of them plot-relevant, then making your protagonist a hospitalized schizophrenic is an effective if not in particularly good faith way to do that. To me it was pretty transparent, and that lack of authenticity makes it even more exhausting to follow the story in and out of a number of meandering rabbit warrens of text.
If you like riffing for riffing’s sake, you may enjoy this more than I did. But this novel doesn’t inspire much connection with the reader and has a lot of structural issues.
*I received an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.*
There were some salient points made here, some beautiful passages, some moments of solidly written humor. But most of the book feels like a very thin narrative constructed to prop up the current pet subjects of the author.
If you want to share a lot of discordant thoughts without having to make most of them plot-relevant, then making your protagonist a hospitalized schizophrenic is an effective if not in particularly good faith way to do that. To me it was pretty transparent, and that lack of authenticity makes it even more exhausting to follow the story in and out of a number of meandering rabbit warrens of text.
If you like riffing for riffing’s sake, you may enjoy this more than I did. But this novel doesn’t inspire much connection with the reader and has a lot of structural issues.
*I received an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.*
July 22, 2025
Scattered ideas masquerading as characters. This book is bad, and anyone who tells you otherwise is lying right to your face. Would not recommend.
July 9, 2025
PARALLEL LINES
EDWARD ST AUBYN
Thanks @aaknopf for the advance copy to review!
This novel is a smart weaving of modern philosophical problems (compassion fatigue, burnout) into narrative with sharp dialogue among characters, reminiscent of the tone I found in GODWIN by Joseph O’Neill which I really enjoyed as well. So fans of philosophical novel with a good (if not quite great) sense of humor—here it is!
Big topics: Overpopulation, ancient history, extinction, prehistory, mental illness, politics, science-deniers, healthcare, adoption, professional ethics—this novel walks through Life and turns over each stone and weighs the findings carefully with a dash of humor.
Sebastian is the main character —we get a real glimpse into his inner monologue as a person with schizophrenia. It’s funny to read from his ongoing printout of surging brain thoughts and off-the-wall connections, but I also am not completely convinced it’s a great glimpse into the mind of a patient with a schizophreniform disorder—it almost seems “fun” in this novel. (St. Aubyn seems to know this and does offer some pretty smart insight to this whole issue above.)
Also, if he’s schizophrenic just because he has a bizarre inner back and forth dialogue—heck do I have schizophrenia? Do we all? Is that one of St Aubyn’s points? Unclear. I think he’s just saying schizophrenia is not so dangerous as the world tends to stigmatize, just an excess of free lateral thinking.
Though the novel has a tendency toward absurd that makes the book more “cute” than other satire, the dialogue where the absurdism is grounded is the most captivating part of this book. The grander idea of the novel though dodged me a little. The jokey half of it is funny but feels a bit meme-y funny rather than literary funny (great British bake off jokes, brexit and Trump jokes etc).
Enjoyable, smart, readable even if not one to leave a burning stamp on the heart. A good, even excellent literary slump buster that could either go Booker longlist or unfortunately lay at the wayside of the bookstagram eye. It shouldn’t, this is worth the inspection.
EDWARD ST AUBYN
Thanks @aaknopf for the advance copy to review!
This novel is a smart weaving of modern philosophical problems (compassion fatigue, burnout) into narrative with sharp dialogue among characters, reminiscent of the tone I found in GODWIN by Joseph O’Neill which I really enjoyed as well. So fans of philosophical novel with a good (if not quite great) sense of humor—here it is!
Big topics: Overpopulation, ancient history, extinction, prehistory, mental illness, politics, science-deniers, healthcare, adoption, professional ethics—this novel walks through Life and turns over each stone and weighs the findings carefully with a dash of humor.
Sebastian is the main character —we get a real glimpse into his inner monologue as a person with schizophrenia. It’s funny to read from his ongoing printout of surging brain thoughts and off-the-wall connections, but I also am not completely convinced it’s a great glimpse into the mind of a patient with a schizophreniform disorder—it almost seems “fun” in this novel. (St. Aubyn seems to know this and does offer some pretty smart insight to this whole issue above.)
Also, if he’s schizophrenic just because he has a bizarre inner back and forth dialogue—heck do I have schizophrenia? Do we all? Is that one of St Aubyn’s points? Unclear. I think he’s just saying schizophrenia is not so dangerous as the world tends to stigmatize, just an excess of free lateral thinking.
Though the novel has a tendency toward absurd that makes the book more “cute” than other satire, the dialogue where the absurdism is grounded is the most captivating part of this book. The grander idea of the novel though dodged me a little. The jokey half of it is funny but feels a bit meme-y funny rather than literary funny (great British bake off jokes, brexit and Trump jokes etc).
Enjoyable, smart, readable even if not one to leave a burning stamp on the heart. A good, even excellent literary slump buster that could either go Booker longlist or unfortunately lay at the wayside of the bookstagram eye. It shouldn’t, this is worth the inspection.
August 10, 2025
I listened to this one via audio, and really enjoyed this book, my first by the author. It was a gem, with many parts that were snarky and made me laugh, but there were also serious topics in here that were covered well. There are a few plots with several characters going on, but they all come together by the end, and the way the author wove their stories together and connected these characters was brilliant.
I do want to note this is the second in a duology, and while it read fine as a standalone, it might have helped to have had more background on the characters but otherwise I was fine.
Thank you to @aaknopf #partner for the finished copy to review.
I do want to note this is the second in a duology, and while it read fine as a standalone, it might have helped to have had more background on the characters but otherwise I was fine.
Thank you to @aaknopf #partner for the finished copy to review.
January 1, 2026
I did not realize this was a sequel to another book which I haven't read; perhaps that explains why I found this a bit difficult to get into at first, and all the characters hard to keep track of. Once I -- or it -- settled in, the reading experience improved. Though at times it's hard to tell if St. Aubyn is gently parodying his pretentious characters or is just like that, and though the nest of coincidences at the center of this novel are hard to swallow, Sebastian is a winning character and the payoff, for a St. Aubyn book, is surprisingly sweet.
July 31, 2025
absolutely loved this!
full review: https://www.creationmag.org/blog-3-1/...
full review: https://www.creationmag.org/blog-3-1/...
August 3, 2025
I gave up on page 68. I have read all the Patrick Melrose novels but this is totally confusing. You are plunged into a story without any introduction to any of the characters. I never knew what I was reading and since I am a constant reader I felt bogged down and was not enjoying a minute spent with this book I simply gave up raather than waste any more of my readeing time with it. I certainly reccomend the Melrose novels. They are a real acheivement. I hate to give any book one star but I have to be honest.
July 28, 2025
Wish I had dnf’ed. The dialogue was unrealistic and mostly unnecessary, and the prose just felt forced. Also, apparently this novel is a sequel, but there was no indication of this anywhere (and I’m not sure that reading the first book would’ve made me like this one any more).
August 6, 2025
It was a wonderful experience to hear this brilliantly witty, scintillating, and philosophical book narrated by the uniquely gifted thespian and voice actor, the inimitable Benedict Cumberbatch!
December 28, 2025
Parallel Lines is a 2025 release and an Orwell Prize finalist, a sharply observed satirical comedy whose humour functions less as punchline than as structural irony, quietly underwriting the entire narrative.
The novel is constructed around a cast of characters who are adjacently connected yet rarely allowed to converge. They are intentionally shallow on the surface, and yet somehow rendered human and morally charged beneath it. Artists, priests, psychologists (quite a few of them—at times the book feels like an episode of Frasier), millionaires, environmental advocates, and human-rights activists all circulate through a dialogue-driven narrative that is far less concerned with plot than with exposing stylised hollowness and self-serving moral postures. At times, St Aubyn appears to be taking the piss out of everyone involved, and does so with remarkable precision.
At the novel’s emotional centre is Sebastian, a schizophrenic but gradually improving mental-health patient who discovers that he has a twin—one who was adopted and consequently lived a vastly more fortunate life than the abuse-ridden hellscape Sebastian endured. The coincidence deepens when it emerges that this twin is the child of Sebastian’s own therapist, with whom he shares a confidential and unexpectedly warm relationship. The crux of the novel lies in this cruel arbitrariness: the injustice of randomness in life, and the unsettling possibility that our moral seriousness may be far shallower than we like to believe when truly tested. The therapist’s paralysis—his inability to act before the parallel lines inevitably intersect—becomes emblematic of this moral uncertainty.
St Aubyn writes with his customary understated elegance. His sentences are effortless, simple, and quietly mesmerizing, to the extent that I did not mind at all that the plot appears to drift for much of the novel, nor that the climax proves, as is often the case, less a profound revelation than a brief pit stop along the way. The pleasure lies elsewhere.
What sustains the novel is St Aubyn’s deft weaving of witty, almost Oscar Wildean satire, liberal use of puns, and a surprising warmth beneath the irony. Despite its sceptical gaze and comedic sharpness, Parallel Lines remains engaging and humane throughout, and I found myself fully hooked from start to finish.
Well written, worthwhile, enjoyable, and disarmingly easy to read. In short, a wonderful final novel with which to close out 2025
The novel is constructed around a cast of characters who are adjacently connected yet rarely allowed to converge. They are intentionally shallow on the surface, and yet somehow rendered human and morally charged beneath it. Artists, priests, psychologists (quite a few of them—at times the book feels like an episode of Frasier), millionaires, environmental advocates, and human-rights activists all circulate through a dialogue-driven narrative that is far less concerned with plot than with exposing stylised hollowness and self-serving moral postures. At times, St Aubyn appears to be taking the piss out of everyone involved, and does so with remarkable precision.
At the novel’s emotional centre is Sebastian, a schizophrenic but gradually improving mental-health patient who discovers that he has a twin—one who was adopted and consequently lived a vastly more fortunate life than the abuse-ridden hellscape Sebastian endured. The coincidence deepens when it emerges that this twin is the child of Sebastian’s own therapist, with whom he shares a confidential and unexpectedly warm relationship. The crux of the novel lies in this cruel arbitrariness: the injustice of randomness in life, and the unsettling possibility that our moral seriousness may be far shallower than we like to believe when truly tested. The therapist’s paralysis—his inability to act before the parallel lines inevitably intersect—becomes emblematic of this moral uncertainty.
St Aubyn writes with his customary understated elegance. His sentences are effortless, simple, and quietly mesmerizing, to the extent that I did not mind at all that the plot appears to drift for much of the novel, nor that the climax proves, as is often the case, less a profound revelation than a brief pit stop along the way. The pleasure lies elsewhere.
What sustains the novel is St Aubyn’s deft weaving of witty, almost Oscar Wildean satire, liberal use of puns, and a surprising warmth beneath the irony. Despite its sceptical gaze and comedic sharpness, Parallel Lines remains engaging and humane throughout, and I found myself fully hooked from start to finish.
Well written, worthwhile, enjoyable, and disarmingly easy to read. In short, a wonderful final novel with which to close out 2025
June 24, 2025
St. Aubyn's new series - beginning with Double Blind and continuing with Parallel Lines - is timely and intelligent, covering everything from global warming to wealth inequity to the changing roles of art and technology in society, all wrapped up - kind of like a Wes Anderson movie - in a dysfunctional family package. Parallel lines is dialogue-heavy - lots of conversations about what people do for a living instead of our experiencing their actual doing of it - which makes it slow-moving at first, but once I got a sense of the characters and their relationships to one another, I was eager to see how they would interact, set one another off, etc. St. Aubyn seems to have this nailed on for a trilogy (or more), and I will keep reading, though there are a lot of moving parts, a lot of topics to cover in distilling modern Western life and all its crises - psychological, ecological, existential. Though it seems bleak, the novel has its moments of levity and hope, which we need (and need to remember) as we sort through all the minutia that distracts us from what really matters.
August 30, 2025
I enjoyed a lot about this book but disliked quite a bit too! It is not like any other book I have read. It has many interesting characters but they are exhausting. They cannot have an ordinary thoughts or conversations - everything they think or say is serious, bleak, intellectual, political, emotional... I would have liked them to have some more ordinary, mundane and pleasant thoughts and feelings! The only lighter part of the book was when all the main characters met at the Gallery - it became farcical and quite amusing for a while. There are also far too many coincidences in this book but the storylines kept me interested enough to keep reading to the end.
July 27, 2025
There was some anxiety reading this that one of the central characters suffering with fairly serious mental health issues would hit a crisis when confronted with previously held secrets. His fragility and his optimism in the face of his struggles was heartbreaking and I was not ready to see him suffer further. Thankfully, and without spoilers, that is not the direction of the narrative here. This is a book about healing and kindness and acceptance. It was all sorts of lovely.
May 19, 2025
4.5 stars..What a beautiful, elegant & stylish writer of prose..Brilliantly clever & entertaining..but sometimes 'too clever for his own good'.
July 3, 2025
Crowded with virtuoso writing, sometimes hard to wade through, but with a stunningly beautiful crescendo.
June 23, 2025
I've come to accept that nothing St. Aubyn writes is going to knock me out the way his excellent PATRICK MELROSE novels did.
That said, his command of description is always on-point, and I often envied his weaving of words and imagery. Not so for the dialogue. It's often congested and sounds mechanical and overly deliberate. And the number of characters is downright claustrophobic; some add little to the story and it can be a slog to keep up. Same goes for St. Aubyn's last novel, the forgettable (and I'm even looking up the title as I write this) DOUBLE BLIND. He's still among my favorite writers, though I hope he'll revisit memoir-driven prose next time around.
That said, his command of description is always on-point, and I often envied his weaving of words and imagery. Not so for the dialogue. It's often congested and sounds mechanical and overly deliberate. And the number of characters is downright claustrophobic; some add little to the story and it can be a slog to keep up. Same goes for St. Aubyn's last novel, the forgettable (and I'm even looking up the title as I write this) DOUBLE BLIND. He's still among my favorite writers, though I hope he'll revisit memoir-driven prose next time around.
April 14, 2025
Parallel lines are a bad premise for a novel. Fiction comes into being when characters crash into each other with unexpected results. If people stay neatly travelling on their own parallel lines, you don't have a novel—you have an episode of Norwegian slow TV.
Fortunately, Edward St Aubyn preserves the parallel lines only for the first half of the book, before ignoring the title of his novel and making those lines crisscross and intersect. This is a novel of multiple characters and different threads, but the most interesting collision is between Sebastian and Olivia, twins who were separated at birth and had never met before (except at a party a few years earlier, when they chatted briefly without realising they were siblings).
Olivia was adopted at birth by Martin and Lizzie Carr, who are more or less the ideal parents: as professional psychoanalysts, they are emotionally aware and supportive, as well as being affluent enough to give her a good start in life. She goes on to become a researcher at Oxford and later a BBC radio presenter. Her twin brother, Sebastian, on the other hand, stayed with his birth parents—an abusive father and ineffective mother—before later being adopted by a couple who seemed not to be much better. He experiences severe mental illness and is in a Suicide Observation Room when we first meet him.
As it turns out, Sebastian's psychoanalyst just happens to be Martin Carr, Olivia's father. This is revealed quite early in the book, so I don't consider it a spoiler. In fact, it was the one part of the story that I found difficult to accept. I know people in this profession, and they've told me that having a personal connection to a patient is a serious ethical breach. Martin is presented in the book as a kind, caring and professional man, a good father and a good analyst, so I find it extraordinary that he would allow this breach to go on for years without simply referring Sebastian to a colleague.
But if you can accept that, it does make for a delicious premise. When Olivia and Sebastian finally meet, Martin must feign ignorance as he talks to each of them in turn. How long will it be before they discover that they share not just the same "Bio Mum" but also the same "Psycho Dad"?
The answer comes towards the back end of the book, in an extended chapter in which we see all of the main characters preparing to attend the same gallery opening in central London. St Aubyn does a great job of stretching this part out, making good use of the large supporting cast to keep the tension going for as long as possible, before finally those parallel lines intersect.
Along the way, we get some beautiful writing and fascinating dialogue. The characters' conversations are far more witty and insightful than any I've heard even when people are performing at dinner parties, let alone in the mundane domestic settings where most of the conversations take place. Here's Martin, for example, speaking about the politics of resentment:
"The politician who knows how to stir it up will always win—making people proud of what they used to be ashamed of is such an intoxicating alchemy."
There are loads of nuggets like that throughout the book. I'm not sure if people really talk that way—even Olivia's five-year-old son Noah is a budding intellectual—but it's wonderful to read.
The early sections with Sebastian are a brilliant and utterly convincing insight into the mind of a person who is constantly free associating, his thoughts jumping from topic to topic at lightning speed, connected by obscure but strangely logical lateral thinking. His first spoken words in the novel would be easy to see as unhinged ravings:
"By that fat cow! .... We've upgraded you from a classic Having room to one of our superior Being rooms ... Give it a rest, me old son ... I don't want to be radicalised."
But these outbursts take place several pages apart, and St Aubyn also takes us through Sebastian's intervening thought processes, revealing a mind that is making creative associations which he just can't control. As the book progresses, he begins to get more control over his thoughts and words, but he still has a tendency to spin from one thought to the next in unusual ways, sometimes to his advantage and sometimes not. It's a sensitive portrait of mental illness that makes Sebastian into a very interesting and surprising character.
Large themes are strewn throughout the book, explored both through the characters' erudite conversations and through aspects of the plot. Since there are two psychoanalysts and one patient at the heart of the novel, the functioning of the human mind is central, but there's also the role of religion, the looming threat of climate change and species extinction, the nature and extent of compassion, and more.
Light also plays a major role in the novel. The gallery opening at which all the parallel lines cross is an exhibit of light art—installations that use light in creative ways to challenge the viewers' perceptions. One of the hospital nurses, who later becomes Sebastian's friend and invites him to the opening, is also a light artist, and another minor character, Hunter, is a tech billionaire who wants to install pieces of light art on his expansive property. I haven't quite thought through the symbolism of it, but I suppose it's about the interconnectedness of the characters, the way they're all groping towards a light of understanding that, as in one of the main art pieces, was "there all along", even in what seems like darkness.
So what happens when those parallel lines do intersect? Not as much as I'd hoped. I won't spoil it by giving details because this really is the climax of the novel, but I thought St Aubyn could have made more of the fallout from the gallery opening at which all of the characters meet and Martin's secret comes out. The ending felt satisfying on some levels but incomplete on others, with the central conflict only briefly explored and multiple loose ends left hanging with the minor characters.
After finishing the book and reading up about it online, I realised that this novel is part of a larger series. It's a sequel to Double Blind, which I haven't read, and although I don't think there are more books officially lined up, the ending strongly suggests to me that there will be. The author's previous Patrick Melrose series spanned five novels over the course of a decade, so I suspect this will be a similar multi-part series.
That explains the ending that left me wanting more, as well as the multiple plot lines that were introduced but didn't really go anywhere. Some, I now realise, are continuations of storylines from Double Blind, and others, I imagine, will be more fully developed in the next installment. So although Parallel Lines does have a lot to offer as a standalone novel, I think you'd probably get more from it if you read it as part of the whole series.
Fortunately, Edward St Aubyn preserves the parallel lines only for the first half of the book, before ignoring the title of his novel and making those lines crisscross and intersect. This is a novel of multiple characters and different threads, but the most interesting collision is between Sebastian and Olivia, twins who were separated at birth and had never met before (except at a party a few years earlier, when they chatted briefly without realising they were siblings).
Olivia was adopted at birth by Martin and Lizzie Carr, who are more or less the ideal parents: as professional psychoanalysts, they are emotionally aware and supportive, as well as being affluent enough to give her a good start in life. She goes on to become a researcher at Oxford and later a BBC radio presenter. Her twin brother, Sebastian, on the other hand, stayed with his birth parents—an abusive father and ineffective mother—before later being adopted by a couple who seemed not to be much better. He experiences severe mental illness and is in a Suicide Observation Room when we first meet him.
As it turns out, Sebastian's psychoanalyst just happens to be Martin Carr, Olivia's father. This is revealed quite early in the book, so I don't consider it a spoiler. In fact, it was the one part of the story that I found difficult to accept. I know people in this profession, and they've told me that having a personal connection to a patient is a serious ethical breach. Martin is presented in the book as a kind, caring and professional man, a good father and a good analyst, so I find it extraordinary that he would allow this breach to go on for years without simply referring Sebastian to a colleague.
But if you can accept that, it does make for a delicious premise. When Olivia and Sebastian finally meet, Martin must feign ignorance as he talks to each of them in turn. How long will it be before they discover that they share not just the same "Bio Mum" but also the same "Psycho Dad"?
The answer comes towards the back end of the book, in an extended chapter in which we see all of the main characters preparing to attend the same gallery opening in central London. St Aubyn does a great job of stretching this part out, making good use of the large supporting cast to keep the tension going for as long as possible, before finally those parallel lines intersect.
Along the way, we get some beautiful writing and fascinating dialogue. The characters' conversations are far more witty and insightful than any I've heard even when people are performing at dinner parties, let alone in the mundane domestic settings where most of the conversations take place. Here's Martin, for example, speaking about the politics of resentment:
"The politician who knows how to stir it up will always win—making people proud of what they used to be ashamed of is such an intoxicating alchemy."
There are loads of nuggets like that throughout the book. I'm not sure if people really talk that way—even Olivia's five-year-old son Noah is a budding intellectual—but it's wonderful to read.
The early sections with Sebastian are a brilliant and utterly convincing insight into the mind of a person who is constantly free associating, his thoughts jumping from topic to topic at lightning speed, connected by obscure but strangely logical lateral thinking. His first spoken words in the novel would be easy to see as unhinged ravings:
"By that fat cow! .... We've upgraded you from a classic Having room to one of our superior Being rooms ... Give it a rest, me old son ... I don't want to be radicalised."
But these outbursts take place several pages apart, and St Aubyn also takes us through Sebastian's intervening thought processes, revealing a mind that is making creative associations which he just can't control. As the book progresses, he begins to get more control over his thoughts and words, but he still has a tendency to spin from one thought to the next in unusual ways, sometimes to his advantage and sometimes not. It's a sensitive portrait of mental illness that makes Sebastian into a very interesting and surprising character.
Large themes are strewn throughout the book, explored both through the characters' erudite conversations and through aspects of the plot. Since there are two psychoanalysts and one patient at the heart of the novel, the functioning of the human mind is central, but there's also the role of religion, the looming threat of climate change and species extinction, the nature and extent of compassion, and more.
Light also plays a major role in the novel. The gallery opening at which all the parallel lines cross is an exhibit of light art—installations that use light in creative ways to challenge the viewers' perceptions. One of the hospital nurses, who later becomes Sebastian's friend and invites him to the opening, is also a light artist, and another minor character, Hunter, is a tech billionaire who wants to install pieces of light art on his expansive property. I haven't quite thought through the symbolism of it, but I suppose it's about the interconnectedness of the characters, the way they're all groping towards a light of understanding that, as in one of the main art pieces, was "there all along", even in what seems like darkness.
So what happens when those parallel lines do intersect? Not as much as I'd hoped. I won't spoil it by giving details because this really is the climax of the novel, but I thought St Aubyn could have made more of the fallout from the gallery opening at which all of the characters meet and Martin's secret comes out. The ending felt satisfying on some levels but incomplete on others, with the central conflict only briefly explored and multiple loose ends left hanging with the minor characters.
After finishing the book and reading up about it online, I realised that this novel is part of a larger series. It's a sequel to Double Blind, which I haven't read, and although I don't think there are more books officially lined up, the ending strongly suggests to me that there will be. The author's previous Patrick Melrose series spanned five novels over the course of a decade, so I suspect this will be a similar multi-part series.
That explains the ending that left me wanting more, as well as the multiple plot lines that were introduced but didn't really go anywhere. Some, I now realise, are continuations of storylines from Double Blind, and others, I imagine, will be more fully developed in the next installment. So although Parallel Lines does have a lot to offer as a standalone novel, I think you'd probably get more from it if you read it as part of the whole series.
June 12, 2025
I am not sure what this was but I did not like it. I thought all the Patrick Melrose novels were excellent. If the intent was to make this feel like a dissociative disorder in action, then it worked for that. All the scenes and characters were discombobulated and nothing came together. The dialogue featured too-perfect language. People don’t speak like that.
September 30, 2025
If it’s by St. Aubyn, it’s going to be good. His Melrose series and Lost for Words were literary: excellent nimble layered writing and top notch erudite reparte. Two twins - one given for adoption to good parents at birth and a son given to bad parents at eighteen months. Life, family bonds, psycho analysis - very good.
January 23, 2026
Parallell lines er en fortsettelse av boka Double Blind, og det er hentyda at det skal komme en tredje bok med Martin, Lucy, Sebastian, Lizzy, Sam, Hunter …
Jeg kommer fra det laveste laget av samfunnet, det er kanskje bare flykninger med den mørkeste huden som ville stått under meg i en tenkt stige i Norge. På et tidspunkt i livet mitt foretok jeg en klassereise opp til øvre middelklassen, og de menneskene jeg møtte der, det er de menneskene vi treffer i bøkene til St Aubyn. Det fins ingenting i livene deres, både i virkeligheten og i boka til St Aubyn, som handler om å gå i butikken og handle, betale forsikringer eller vaske bilen, vaske vinduene, vaske huset, hente barn i barnehage. Det tar andre seg av, eller det fins ikke. Og det er ikke Exit-versjonen, det er gammel-penge, utdanna ved Oxford, foreldre og besteforeldre som har gjort det godt og har gitt deg grunnlaget-typen mennesker.
De er voksenversjonen av den modne (overmodne) vestlige sivilisasjonen og kapitalismen, de er eliten i alle betydninger av ordet. Ikke harry-eliten, de som har tjent seg rike på spekulasjoner eller eiendomssalg, men de som eier strukturene vi andre er fanget i.
Og St Aubyn skriver dette på en så finurlig måte at det er nesten ikke til å tru.
Boka følger som sagt forskjellige mennesker i deres liv. Boka starta litt treigt, det virka som om starten var ting som ikke var brukt i Double Blind og det var ikke noe driv. Jeg tenkte at dette var ikke bra. Etter hvert som det skjedde noe, etter hvert som personene ville noe, ønska noe, kunne jeg ikke legge fra meg boka, jeg måtte være med i deres liv, se hvilke valg de ville gjøre, hvilke tilfeldigheter som dytta dem i forskjellige retninger. Lucys hjernekreft og Sebastians szicofroni, Martins etiske dilemma og Holly, Karen, Olivia, Noha … Boka er enda mer intellektuell enn Double Blind, men - syns jeg - også morsommere. Hvis de to bøkene skal sammenlignes.
Det er mye Shakespear - og andre forfattere - både på overflaten og i strukturene i boka, og det er mange morsomme scener og sitater. Sebastian er særlig en karakter som observerer og knuser det vi tar for å være normalt og vanlig, og med sjukdommen i stedet for narkotika tilfører han en energi som minner om Patrick Melrose. Det er en form for intellektuell slapstick-humor som ikke fins andre steder enn i bøkene til St Aubyn.
Det beste med St Aubyn er at sjøl om han sitter der oppe i glasslottet sitt og snakker om vennene sine med arv og utdannelse, føler jeg at han er på min side. Han er til tider så ironisk og sarkastisk og det renner av ham.
Det skal også nevnes at som i Double Blind gikk minst halvparten av det som blei sagt rett over huet på meg. Det er så mange referanser til ting jeg ikke kjenner til at noen av dialogene i bøkene blir litt sånn at jeg bare må komme meg gjennom dem og håpe jeg klarer å ta med meg det som er viktig for videre handling.
Jeg mener St Aubyn er en genial forfatter. Han er intelktuell på en måte som veldig få andre er det, han har en verden som ingen andre har, men jeg skjønner også at dette ikke er en forfatter for alle. Når jeg leser bøker ønsker jeg ikke bare handling, men også at den delen av hjernen min som handler om språk, innhold, også aktiveres. Jeg ønsker å tenke, delta, forstå noe mer, kjenne igjen livet mitt. Det er få bøker som klarer det, men heldigvis mange nok til at jeg fortsetter å lese. Bøkene til St Aubyn gir meg alt dette. På min skala får han seks stjerner.
Boka blei bestilt gjennom Norli.
Jeg kommer fra det laveste laget av samfunnet, det er kanskje bare flykninger med den mørkeste huden som ville stått under meg i en tenkt stige i Norge. På et tidspunkt i livet mitt foretok jeg en klassereise opp til øvre middelklassen, og de menneskene jeg møtte der, det er de menneskene vi treffer i bøkene til St Aubyn. Det fins ingenting i livene deres, både i virkeligheten og i boka til St Aubyn, som handler om å gå i butikken og handle, betale forsikringer eller vaske bilen, vaske vinduene, vaske huset, hente barn i barnehage. Det tar andre seg av, eller det fins ikke. Og det er ikke Exit-versjonen, det er gammel-penge, utdanna ved Oxford, foreldre og besteforeldre som har gjort det godt og har gitt deg grunnlaget-typen mennesker.
De er voksenversjonen av den modne (overmodne) vestlige sivilisasjonen og kapitalismen, de er eliten i alle betydninger av ordet. Ikke harry-eliten, de som har tjent seg rike på spekulasjoner eller eiendomssalg, men de som eier strukturene vi andre er fanget i.
Og St Aubyn skriver dette på en så finurlig måte at det er nesten ikke til å tru.
Boka følger som sagt forskjellige mennesker i deres liv. Boka starta litt treigt, det virka som om starten var ting som ikke var brukt i Double Blind og det var ikke noe driv. Jeg tenkte at dette var ikke bra. Etter hvert som det skjedde noe, etter hvert som personene ville noe, ønska noe, kunne jeg ikke legge fra meg boka, jeg måtte være med i deres liv, se hvilke valg de ville gjøre, hvilke tilfeldigheter som dytta dem i forskjellige retninger. Lucys hjernekreft og Sebastians szicofroni, Martins etiske dilemma og Holly, Karen, Olivia, Noha … Boka er enda mer intellektuell enn Double Blind, men - syns jeg - også morsommere. Hvis de to bøkene skal sammenlignes.
Det er mye Shakespear - og andre forfattere - både på overflaten og i strukturene i boka, og det er mange morsomme scener og sitater. Sebastian er særlig en karakter som observerer og knuser det vi tar for å være normalt og vanlig, og med sjukdommen i stedet for narkotika tilfører han en energi som minner om Patrick Melrose. Det er en form for intellektuell slapstick-humor som ikke fins andre steder enn i bøkene til St Aubyn.
My interpretation, Kirsty, is that we should move the Middle East to the Far East, so it’s not so close to home.
So it has finally happened, the collison he had been anticipating for so long, but instead of being on top of the hill watching it, Martin felt that he was in the front compartment of both trains.
Reality was (in reality) a love affair.
He had to come out with his hands raised, even if one of them was still carrying a bottle of wine.
Guido [en italienske munk i kappe] waved to him from the top of the ramp, like an unwisely dressed astronaut about to get into a rocket.
Det beste med St Aubyn er at sjøl om han sitter der oppe i glasslottet sitt og snakker om vennene sine med arv og utdannelse, føler jeg at han er på min side. Han er til tider så ironisk og sarkastisk og det renner av ham.
Thanks to its system of tax-exempt philanthropy, rich Americans could ride their hobbyhorses into the sunset, being mad about Sonoran Desert toads, mad about opera […] while leaving ordinary taxpayers to strengthen bridges and fill potholes, and provide the metal detectors and heavily armed elementery school teatchers guaranteed by the Second Amendment [...]
Det skal også nevnes at som i Double Blind gikk minst halvparten av det som blei sagt rett over huet på meg. Det er så mange referanser til ting jeg ikke kjenner til at noen av dialogene i bøkene blir litt sånn at jeg bare må komme meg gjennom dem og håpe jeg klarer å ta med meg det som er viktig for videre handling.
Jeg mener St Aubyn er en genial forfatter. Han er intelktuell på en måte som veldig få andre er det, han har en verden som ingen andre har, men jeg skjønner også at dette ikke er en forfatter for alle. Når jeg leser bøker ønsker jeg ikke bare handling, men også at den delen av hjernen min som handler om språk, innhold, også aktiveres. Jeg ønsker å tenke, delta, forstå noe mer, kjenne igjen livet mitt. Det er få bøker som klarer det, men heldigvis mange nok til at jeg fortsetter å lese. Bøkene til St Aubyn gir meg alt dette. På min skala får han seks stjerner.
Boka blei bestilt gjennom Norli.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 132 reviews