Portrait of misplaced obsession more like, 16 Jan 2005

Steve Mingle gives us a perverse tour of the world he wants us to see, a world dominated by the precious images of Colin Bell and Georgy Kinkladsky. We see odd glimpses of the author's other life- schoolboy,student,actuary - but any sense that this is a schlock autobiography in the Hornby tradition goes out the window as we are bamboozled again and again by our knowing host.

To call this self obsessed post modernism would be to go too far but it's got a bit of Naborkov in it and the author certainly comes accross as an over-intelligent loser with Curtisian tendencies.

The book's failing is in its ending which is tepid. You really want something to happen to end this grim reiteration of 100 farcical matches ,spread over 45 years. Perhaps the mortality tables could project the number of sequels to come (at the current rate I calculate about 1.1). If we are due another dose in 2049, I sincerely hope that some kind of spiritual enlightenment can visit itself upon Mr Mingle to make better use of his undoubted talents

 Comment | Permalink | Was this review helpful to you? (Report this)