My God, has this man ever met an editor. If he has, he should fire them.
Identity Crisis is a 2019 satirical novel about Brexit, cancel culture, Love Island, Cambridge Analytica, Putin, MeToo, Harvey Weinstein, trans rights, gay rights, multiculturalism, Twitter, popular feminism, incels, and a bunch of other shit that I probably forgot about because this book was at least 100 pages longer than it needed to be.
Full disclosure that I read this book because I'm researching reactionary contemporary satire. This book wasn't quite as reactionary as you might anticipate from the book cover, however. It's less Old Man Yells At Cloud and more 'well, isn't this all a bit befuddling?' The focus is very muddled, and the narrative completely loses steam halfway through.
Here is the plot: A woman - who is later revealed to be a trans woman in full 'surprise! a penis!' transphobic fashion - is hit over the head and murdered in a park. Other people who are involved in culture-war issues also keep turning up murdered or having committed suicide, including a TERF, a prominent feminist historian spearheading a terribly silly campaign to retrospectively prosecute Samuel Pepys for sexual abuse, the sexual predator actor she worked with, a couple of Christian hotel owners who turned away a gay couple, a far-right incel, a Black girl on a council estate, and a straight couple on a queer edition of Love Island.
By the end, it turns out the Russians are bumping off all these people in collaboration with a Cambridge Analytica-type organisation, so they can turn their deaths into more culture war fodder, push through Brexit, and destabilise the UK. Despite there being a lot of hullaballoo in the text about all these people being killed by the same assassin (a guy in a Spurs shirt - apparently Russian budgets have been cut and their assassins can only afford one shirt), we never actually see the assassins. It was Russia all along. Oh well! Everything goes back to normal. The Brexit referendum goes through, but everyone sort of agrees to ignore it. Pepys gets six years on the sex offender register. Ho hum.
If this sounds pointless and weird, that's because it is. What this description doesn't convey, however, is just How Much Stuff is going on in this book. We have a camera trained on each of the culture-war things that are contributing to the England Out (Leave) campaign: trans people and TERFs, Love Island, Cambridge Analytica, various MeToo-type stuff, the incel guy, different campaigns over different murdered people, scenes in the police station, a lot of Twitter. Elton has learned that some books have very short chapters, but he has not learned why. Reading this book feels like drinking six of those double shot soy milk lattes that the millennials and the transgenders like, then getting transformed into a pinball and bounced around a pinball machine. It's exhausting! There's none of the focus that makes for an interesting, cogent satire.
You can tell Elton has a lot of Feelings about all of the things that are happening. He's disdainful of Brexit and both the odious Leave and substanceless Remain campaigns. (For the record so am I, but I would also probably take cues from the fact that every Brexit novel has been shit.) He's a little confused about the gays and the transes and thinks it's all a bit silly, but being a dick to people is uncalled for. He's sympathetic to MeToo but thinks some of the women are going a little too far. He thinks Russian disinformation is bad. He dislikes Twitter. He thinks the women on Love Island have too much lip filler. He may have had some thoughts about economic or social policy at some point in his life, presumably.
Other satires I've read, by frothing-at-the-mouth reactionaries who are living in a terrifying fantasy world they have built in their heads, have been compelling nightmares where we tear through the wall and peer into the writhing psyche of the racist and/or transphobe. This guy isn't like that. He has some feelings. He has some comedy writing credits. Unfortunately his perspective is just very ordinary and undeveloped and he doesn't really have any jokes.
That's why the plot all falls apart at the end; there's not a strong enough ideological framework behind it to carry it through to a powerful finish. The book's less terrible than it would be if Elton was a full-on reactionary, but it's probably more boring.
The book is not devoid of unintentionally hilarious insights, however: I do now know that Ben Elton thinks that a gender- and sexuality-diverse Love Island would not work because the contestants would not be sufficiently interested in fucking/fighting each other. I have also been subjected to the character of Narsti Rimes, a 20-year-old grime artist whose dialect is, uh. Questionable.
Final note: there are SEVENTEEN T-SLURS IN THIS BOOK