Just atrocious. Delingpole would like to convince you this is satire, but there's an inescapable sense that he's just using that as an excuse for vapid wish fulfillment. He describes women using the most eye-rollingly crass of terms. If I hadn't felt an external need to finish the book, I would have thrown it out the window.
201o bookcrossing: This was quite a different story from some of the usual things out there, and a good read with a suitable ending I think. It's the story of Giles Fripp, an unsucessful restaurant reviewer; dotting about through his childhood, his mad family, at school, then uni and then through his professional life of various jobs. The main focus of the tale is during his time at a magazine, Knobbes. When it's taken over and a rather in-your-face editor is put in the driving seat, Giles finds himself forced to invent rather extreme restaurants to keep his editor happy. And strangely enough, after his reviews have been printed, people start going to these restaurants. And Giles can't decide whether it's an elaborate and rather expensive hoax being run by one of his old schoolfriends, or something more supernatural to do with his mad uncle, known as the Gastronome, and a strange magical blessing from Africa at his christening.
At times he's a touch pretencious about his food and looking down his nose at people from certain regions of the country, but all in all this was a fun read.
Highly inventive, and very, very funny. The stuff of nightmares; where what is bound safely in the written word becomes less controllable in reality. Did Heston read this book whilst stirring his morning porridge?
I cannot say more than that, for fear of giving away too much.