In one compartment of the 11.50 a.m. Sunday train from a north-eastern seaport to King's Cross sit four passengers: a small girl, two nuns in whose care she has been left, and a merchant seaman, who has been looking forward to a solitary gloat over his girlie magazines, and who is at first furious at the invasion of "a bunch of religious maniacs all got up in fancy dress like the Ku Klux Klan". Later there is a fifth passenger: "one of them fat and fortyish women ... running round in short skirts like they're going to kid everyone they're only nineteen."
The story of their journey together is told by the seaman, interwoven with his reflections on everything from the absurdity of religion to the desirability of brothels on trains ... and with recollections ranging from early childhood up to the scandalous and ominous events of the previous night.
I picked this up with The Third Beast after throughly enjoying Dearest. “Peter Loughran” which must be a pseudonym can write with a very sadistic humour which has me almost crying with laughter in places but then can get nasty and horrific in tone quickly. His slang and terms are right on the money which makes these books seem so realistic in a lad kind of way. I need to look into who the real author is as I heard of a possibility but I don’t know their work either
Un roman aussi changeant et ambigu que son protagoniste. On y passe de l'humour noir à la critique sociétale acerbe, de moments poétiques à des crises de violence incontrôlées. Au final, trop de malaise à mon goût.