Quite simply one of the most godawful pieces of garbage I have ever had the misfortune to pick up. I genuinely cannot believe this ever got published. There was just about enough characterisation to show the characters as one-dimensionally unpleasant and the writing was the prose version of aggressively bad soap opera. Imagine Colin Bateman or Chris Brookmyre, but without any talent or charm whatsoever. In fact, imagine that Piers Morgan decided to write a crime novel; halting yet aggressive delivery that the purveyor somehow thinks is charming, brainless populism underscored with an utter contempt for the audience.
The people who published and marketed this tripe should be hunted down and given a stern talking to, preferable with a pair of hot pliers.
I emailed the critic Ewan Ferguson of The Observer, who had written a gushing ‘laugh-out-loud type review, asking for my money back. I also wondered if he could point out which page was actually funny. Am still waiting for a reply.
It is rare that I read a book that is so bad, I physically cannot finish it. This book was so poorly written, with such a dogshit plot, I couldn’t finish the last half despite trying to soldier on. And I’ve finished some god awful books. It reads like it was written by a 14 year old boy with a thesaurus and a god complex. The humour is smug and self congratulating and more than anything, it’s just boring. It’s misogynistic, but not in a way that attempts to be edgy and subversive or provide any commentary on sexism or society - rather it is just tired boring sexism that makes you groan.
I cannot believe the positive reviews that this received at the time. A book this bad can only have been a product of the late 90s. It serves only to act as a glimpse into a time when naming a chapter ‘The Morality of Wanking’ could have you named ‘the funniest British novelist writing today’ by the Observer.
Do yourself a favour and read literally anything else.
thoroughly and consistently entertaining (low-key) crime thriller. virtuosic use of callbacks and in-jokes put you (giggling) in the shoes of a questionable protagonist. reoccurring theme of autonomy and control is resolved with… be in the moment and maybe cheat on your wife? impressive accuracy of onomatopoeia.
“And if you choose instead to sit in your traffic-jam and bear it, then it cannot be unbearable, can it?”
I can’t exactly remember why I bought this - the book that inspired “one of the worst films ever made”. It’s not terrible, and has its moments - a few funny lines, some memorable scenes, even a few rather poetic passages. But mostly it’s a rather laddish caper revolving around sex, money and Russian mobsters. I didn’t find any of it “laugh out loud funny” as promised on the jacket.
I was struggling to go through this, still waiting for the wonderful and hilarious comedy that had been promised to me, when I realized that I'd reached the last page of it, having only had some glimpse of a mafia, sex and cheating. Let's not forget whatever disgusting stuff our protagonist was pulling from his teeth.
1.5 stars. (I'm being generous, not once did I laugh)
I picked this up in a pub book sale - wasn't really sure what to expect. It was a little odd, with a few great funny moments. The ending is unsatisfactory and I am convinced the author could have done better however it was a change from the norm and a change now and then is always good. Read it without expecting too much and hopefully you'll not be disappointed.