I've really loved
some of Jonathan Coe's books (The Rotters' Club, House of Sleep) and
not liked some others (Dwarves of Death). This one sits somewhere in
the middle, to my surprise. It takes a long time to get started, and
I found the mundane details of the main character's life dull - well,
they are supposed to be, but couldn't we have established that rather
more quickly? It's more interesting when he gets to Belgium, and by
the end I was emotionally engaged with him, his wife, his situation.
By the end I was sorry it was over - the impact of finishing with a
present-day epilogue in which many of the main characters are dead is
poignant. On the other hand, I didn't like the MI5 characters' double
act - it reminded me too much of Ealing comedies, and felt like it
was played for laughs according to a formula.
I note that 1958 was
the year of my own birth, so the main characters are contemporaries
of my parents. I don't know whether Coe is over-doing it, but London
in 1958 seems really depressing, as if the war and rationing have
only just finished.
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