Starter for Ten [Paperback]

Is David Nicholls' Starter for Ten a throwback? Many readers look back with nostalgia to a recent golden age of comic writing, when David Lodge, Malcolm Bradbury and Tom Sharpe were producing some achingly funny work, with brilliantly realised characters. But Nicholls' sharp-as-nails novel has all the comic acumen of his great predecessors (along with their frequently-utilised university campus milieu) and, like Lodge and co., Nicholls writes real characters, not just boobies suitable only for pratfalls and sexual embarrassment. So even though the situations may often be ridiculous, we're still engaged by the protagonists.

Here, they are university student Brian Jackson and aspiring actress Alice Harbinson. Brian has arrived at his place of learning with a stronger desire than the acquisition of knowledge: he's going to be a star of TV's hottest quiz. But his progress on "The Challenge" is somewhat stymied by his growing desire for the beguiling Alice, struggling to make her mark as an actress. And as obstacles impede their affair, Brian becomes more and more convinced that only overwhelming success on the quiz show will win her.

What makes this novel such a delight, apart from the strongly drawn characters (both major and minor) is the coruscating dialogue: Nicholls writes comic dialogue like a dream, and his targets are many and varied: the idiocies of love and sex, the ludicrous pursuit of meaningless TV celebrity, fat cat businessmen lining their pockets--you name it, and it's probably here; Starter for Ten is a panoply of modern Britain with all its glories and excesses writ large. Nicholls wrote the third series of the hit TV series Cold Feet, which is as good a demonstration of his credentials as one could wish for. But Starter for Ten is his best work; there are no false notes struck by miscast actors, just prose that has a comic energy not often encountered these days. --Barry Forshaw --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

'A classic...I sniggered, snorted and hooted.' --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

'Exquisite.' --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

'Starter for Ten is the debut of the year; a recommendation repeated by all who come in contact with it ... Trust us, you'll love it' (Arena 20030905)

'Moving, wickedly observed, warm, uplifting and above all blindingly funny, Starter for Ten hits the spot time after time. Read this book' (Jack 20030913)

'A toe-curlingly embarrassing and cleverly observed comedy ... it'll have you wincing and laughing simultaneously. Fabulous' (Company 20030901)

'A bittersweet coming-of-age tale ... Brian conjure[s] up strong echoes of one of that era's literary heroes, Adrian Mole ... A fine, funny book' (Heat 20030901)

'Spry, affecting debut ... If it's possible to wince with your whole body, that broadly equates to my experience of reading it' (Time Out 20030901)

'A funny, touching novel reminiscent of the classic film Gregory's Girl with an authentic 1980s backdrop' (Sunday Mirror 20030901)

'Nicholls' portrayal of student affectations is accurate and funny ... clever and well-written' (Independent 20031001)

'Hilarious ... you won't be able to put it down' (OK 20030901)

'Painfully funny' (Elle 20030901)

'Warm and funny ... Hilarious' (Daily Mirror 20031001)

'Hugely (and deservedly) hyped ... Achingly funny' (She 20031001)

'I laughed out loud, I cringed in recognition, and more than once I paused in admiration at an observation so wry, so on the money, I wondered why it had never occurred to me before. There have been many pretenders to the throne of Hornby; David Nicholls is his legitimate heir' (Mike Bullen, creator of 'Cold Feet' 20031001)

'For conjuring up all those cringeworthy moments of youth, this read is unrivalled' (Glamour )

'Relentlessly delightful' (Mil Millington )

'Absolutely fabulous ... brilliantly funny' (Jenny Colgan, author of Amanda's Wedding )

'Wonderfully written ... This is a lovely look back at a time when you were young enough to think that anything could happen' (The Word )

'What a delight... David Nicholls is enormously talented, he has an exquisite eye for details, humour and the ridiculous and he deserves every ounce of the huge success he will undoubtedly have with this pleasure of a book' (Anna Maxted, author of Getting Over It )

'I absolutely loved Starter for Ten' (Emily Barr, author of Backpack )

'I laughed a lot'

'Brilliant...we would recommend it to anyone'

'Moving, wickedly observed, warm, uplifting and above all blindingly funny...read this book'

'I absolutely loved Starter for Ten'

'Painfully funny'

'Hilarious ... you won't be able to put it down'

'Relentlessly delightful'

'For conjuring up all those cringeworthy moments of youth, this read is unrivalled'

'A funny, touching novel reminiscent of the classic film Gregory's Girl with an authentic 1980s backdrop'

It's 1985 and Brian Jackson has arrived at university with a burning ambition - to make it onto TV's foremost general knowledge quiz. But no sooner has he embarked on 'The Challenge' than he finds himself falling hopelessly in love with his teammate, the beautiful and charismatic would-be actress, Alice Harbinson.

When Alice fails to fall for his slightly over-eager charms, Brian comes up with a foolproof plan to capture her heart once and for all. He's going to win the game, at any cost, because - after all - everyone knows that what a woman really wants from a man is a comprehensive grasp of general knowledge . . .

STARTER FOR TEN is a comedy about love, class, growing-up and the all-important difference between knowledge and wisdom. Are you up to the challenge of the funniest novel in years? (20030901)

Please note: STARTER FOR TEN is also published in the USA under the alternative title A QUESTION OF ATTRACTION.

David Nicholls's TV credits include the third series of Cold Feet, Rescue Me, and I Saw You. He was co-writer for the film adaptation of Simpatico, which starred Nick Nolte, Jeff Bridges and Sharon Stone. STARTER FOR TEN was a Richard and Judy Book Club bestseller in 2004, and David has written the screenplays for forthcoming film versions of both STARTER FOR TEN and THE UNDERSTUDY. Most recently, David wrote a modern version of Much Ado About Nothing for BBC TV, as part of a Shakespeare season which screened in 2005. (20030906)

Then she starts to dance. They’re playing ‘Love Cats’ by The Cure, and in a witty and incisive interpretation of the song’s lyric, she’s dancing a little bit like a cat, bored and aloof and supple, with one arm occasionally flung up above her head like a, well, like a cat’s tail! She is the most amazing dancer in the world! Now she’s got her hands under her chin like two little paws, and she is the eponymous Love Cat, and she is so wonderfully, wonderfully, wonderfully, wonderfully pretty, and an idea hits me, a plan so beautiful in its simplicity and yet so ingenious and infallible, that I’m amazed I haven’t thought of it before.

Dance! I will woo her through the medium of contemporary dance.

The record changes, and it’s ‘Sex Machine’ by James Brown, which is fine by me, because I do feel like getting up and being a sex machine now you come to mention it. I carefully place the can of Red Stripe on the floor, where it is immediately kicked over, but I don’t mind, and it doesn’t matter. I won’t be needing it where I’m going. I start to do some warm-up moves at the edge of the dance-floor, a little gingerly at first, but I’m glad I wore my brogues instead of my Green Flash, as the flat soles slide gratifyingly on the parquet floor, giving me a kind of funky, loose-limbed feel. Then warily at first, like I’m back at the ice-rink, clinging to the walls, I carefully make my way on to the dance-floor itself, and get up get on up over to her.

She’s dancing in her little group of five again, tight as a fist, one of those impregnable defence formations that the Roman infantry used to repel the barbarians. The cat-eyed girl sees me first, and emits her high-pitched warning signal, and Blonde Kate Bush breaks formation, turns and sees me and looks me in the eye and I take my cue, let the music enter me, and dance like I have never danced before.

I’m dancing as if my life depended on it, biting my lower lip seductively, both as an erotic signifier and an aid to concentration, and looking her straight in the eye, daring, just daring her to look away. Which she does. So I slide on round, back into her eye line, and I let rip. I’m dancing as if I was wearing the Red Shoes, and then I think maybe I was right, maybe it’s because of those pants, the pants Mum gave me, the Red Pants, but whatever it is, I’m dancing like James Brown, I’ve got funk and soul and a brand-new bag, I’m the hardest-working man in show-business, I’m a machine made specifically for the purpose of sex, sliding and spinning through 360, 720 degrees and once actually through 810 degrees, which leaves me facing the wrong way, and momentarily disorientated, but it’s okay because James Brown is saying ‘take it to the bridge’ so I do, I take it to the bridge, wherever that is, and on the way to the bridge my hand goes to my neck and rips away the white cardboard dog-collar in a gesture of righteous contempt for organised religion, and I hurl the cardboard dog-collar onto the floor, into the middle of a group of people who’ve formed a circle around me now, and are clapping and laughing and pointing in awe and admiration, as I spin and duck and touch the floor, my cardigan flying free behind me. My glasses have steamed up a bit, so I can’t see Kate Bush’s face amongst them, just a glimpse of that chippy, dark-haired Jewish girl, Rebecca whatsername, but it’s too late to stop dancing now, because James Brown is asking me to shake my moneymaker, shake my moneymaker, and I have to think for a minute because I’m not sure what my moneymaker is specifically. My head? No, my ass, of course, so I shake it as best I can, anointing the crowd around me with sweat, like a wet dog, and then all of a sudden there’s a jab of horns and the song is over and I. Am. Spent.

I look for her face among the cheering crowd, but she’s definitely gone. Not to worry. The important thing is to have made an impression. Our paths will cross again, tomorrow, one p.m., at The Challenge auditions.