As with his first book, Never Mind, we
find that Patrick Melrose (aka St Aubyn) is once again a marginal
character – it displays a certain kind of mental attitude when you
fail to cast yourself in a leading role in your own autobiography,
although I am not sure exactly what that attitude is...
All the reviews seem to suggest that St
Aubyn's work offers us great insights and revaluations. I found this
latest instalment, even more than the early two, to be populated by a
cast of pathetic, and generally detestable, individuals self-absorbed
in the pity angst of their lives. I am not sure if that is the
insight I am mean to be getting?
The next part, Mother's Milk, is the
one that got short-listed for the Booker Prize and so I feel maybe
having come this far I should get that one but I can't say I am in
anyway looking forward to it.
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