Deeply scurrilous, wickedly funny and ultimately horrifying - this is a novel with attitude. It concerns the Emin and Hirst school of art, productive of works more conceptual than painterly. Hector has had some minor success and is creating a self-portrait for a prestigious gallery showing as the novel opens. He has a wonderful girlfriend, Eleni, and often goes back to Blackpool to see his Mum and Dad. But there's something missing from his life. What he finds most interesting is death (his first successful drawing was of his Auntie Pat's dead budgie). He wonders how death, someone else's death, might contribute to his artistic sensibilities. Hector would like somebody to die, somebody close enough for him to care about - and that, of course, makes him feel terrible.
When things start to go wrong, involving a foppish stalker, a large ugly settee, and a sadistic female American poet, Hector becomes locked in a spiral of disaster that leads to the breakdown of his relationships with everyone, and to a huge hole in the floor of the Tate Gallery. Hector is splendid in a rather horrifying way. He is the epitome of the self-absorbed artist, but he is also very self-knowing, so the reader quickly becomes complicit in his outrageous thought-patterns, if not in his equally outrageous behaviour.
This very funny novel is full of bile and spleen on the subject of the modern art scene. David Thewlis is better known as an actor and was seen relatively recently playing identical twin brothers in the BBC series The Street.