Tibor Fischer's excellent meditation upon the indubitable crapness but inherent attractiveness of life instantly joined my top ten novels of all time upon my first reading, and climbs higher up the chart with every revisit.
The quality of writing is impressive, a real joy is taken in playing with words, sending sentences cascading towards sometimes hairy conclusions with the irreverence of a drunken muskateer, to which the plot, when it is evident, plays a sometimes psychotic foil. Do not read this novel in a public place, unfortunately, laughing alone is no longer viewed as socially acceptable.
Somewhere between the laughs though, a depth of emotion and seductive strength of characterisation draw you into this other world, and there are a few one-line asides on the general impossibility of life, that would make any philosopher proud.
All in all then, the novel serves as a hilarious analogy for life as it appears within the novel, hugely imperfect, but strangely beautiful and effective.