Edgar Mallender is indisposed. Plagued by a painful condition, he spends his days soaking in the bathtub, surrounded by a library of books. But when a beautiful ballet dancer seeks his help, Edgar has to dry himself off and turn private detective. He is plunged into a dangerous world of ruthless businessmen and psychotic thugs, where only one thing can save him from being washed down the plughole: his knowledge of bathing… Who were the cleanest barbarians in history? How did the bathtub ruin American cinema? Why don’t more people hate Sherlock Holmes? Part-mystery, part-history, The Cold Tap is a smart, offbeat tale for anyone who’s ever taken a book into the bathroom.
I really quite liked the author's choice to interweave the story with snippets of legend, myth and history, all of which related somehow to bathing and baths. I related to it a little because I find those kinds of stories fascinating - to unpick the moral consequences of a Biblical parable, to examine the choices leading to a film star's decline and demise.
The narrator is obsessed with bathing. He has an incurable skin condition, and as a consequence, he spends as much time as he can in the bath, soothing his angry sores and rashes. "Unable" to work, he mooches off his sister and whiles away his days reading limp and water-damaged books from his recumbent throne.
He's forced up and out when Diana, a friend of his sister's, comes to him for investigatory help. She's stunning, provocative, and surrounded on all sides by men who must have her. She is one of those magnetic characters that draw attention and desire from everyone around them, often to her (and their) detriment.
One of my pet peeves is seeing women described as "a blonde", "a redhead", "a brunette", as though their hair colour sums it up. The narrator does this a fair bit, but there's a reason. There's a lot in this story about watching women: watching them bathe, watching them dance, watching them live. Ultimately I felt like this book was another story about men who see women as Other, as something to be admired and desired and never understood. I ended up hating the men for that, and the women for letting them.
There was quite a lot to enjoy in this off-beat detective mystery including the narrator's interesting asides into history and legend that compliments the central mystery.
However, I found myself unsatisfied with the final pages. Having missed the reading group meeting where it was discussed there was no opportunity to hash it over with my fellow members. Still in writing this review a week later I revisited the novel's ending and found that my feelings had improved and I felt it was a clever way to finish. I especially enjoyed the aspect of Greek mythology that appeared in the final scene.
It is a novel that deserves a wider readership and certainly a quirky take on the amateur detective mystery.
I'm not really into bathing and I'm not really into crime stories. Yet this peculiar book joins the two very efficiently. The main character is Edgar, a man who loves bathing so much that he spends most of his life there, making a bathroom into his office, where he studies everything that is related to his favourite pastime. This ends when Diana turns up - a mysterious, red-haired damsel in distress, begging Edgar to help her. From there the story takes us for a mad ride, which doesn't end until the very last sentence. Every chapter contains an anecdote or a story taken from history and works of fiction and related to bathing. A very intriguing read, which actually makes me get a bigger bath for my flat.
At once a gripping London noir and a meandering journey through history, myth and culture, The Cold Tap is something very difficult to categorise. A book with an opening chapter that grabs you by the throat and a finale that smacks you in the face. This book has one of the bravest endings I've ever read and I'm still not sure I can live with it but I, nevertheless, loved it. We need more writers with the courage to take fiction off the beaten track and write things that don't sit quite right with us and that's exactly what Tom Beckerlegge has done here. Look forward to reading more.
Bathhouses became brothels, spas turned into stews.
August had turned the Underground into a sweaty sewer, trains grinding to a halt in the tunnels between stations as though they had run out of breath. Faces glistened; tempers frayed.
If Oscar Salazar was a rapier then the Russian was a mace – or something even less subtle, a broken bottle or a hurled brick.
I loved this book. There's a quirky main story interspersed with bathing facts and stories which sounds bizarre but it worked. Every time the main story cut off it left on a mystery (cliff hanger sounds more than it is) so you had to keep reading to find out what was happening.
Definitely different - a novel mixed with a history book. I read it all in one go on a 3.5 hour flight today. Was entertaining enough and an interesting ending.