I like a bit of 'bloke-lit' at times - I've read and enjoyed numerous novels by the likes of Tony Parsons, Nick Hornby, Mike Gayle, John O'Farrell etc. - and this one started encouragingly in the same kind of genre as some of those. I was, however, a little let down in the end.
It's difficult to pin-point why, but I think it came from the book being a little too long (quick to read each page, but 500+ pages of the same sort of stuff was a bit of a trudge) being a little too ambitious (it covered almost every sphere of family relationships, love, loss, parents, social commentary, men, women, and so on and so on) and not having enough humour to counteract the starkness and grimness of some of the issues covered.
It started off as a tale about a man who starts to feel a little jaded with married life, and the first third of the book was relatively light and relatively funny on this subject. Somewhere round the middle, however, the novel shifted in tone and became a slightly heavy-handed story about a woman and her change in circumstances. The final part was somewhat confused and a little cheesy in truth - reliant on coincidences and 'deus ex machina' to tie things together. Many of the characters seemed to be introduced, fleshed out briefly, then forgotten about until they were 'needed' at some later point to reappear and affect the narrative. As easy a read as it was in many ways, it was flabby with tangents and side-tracking, and I think it would maybe have been better as a stripped-down simpler novel of 300ish pages.