2 of 2 people found the following review helpful
1.0 out of 5 stars
No More Mr Crass Guy, 28 Aug 2011
I confess before we begin that I couldn't finish this book. From the cliche of the title to the cliche of the protagonists being writers (like 80% of the protagonists in most of todays novels) the self absorbed london types complaining about nothing in particular was an irritant from chapter one. the humour is crass, in your face third rate porn. I couldntfinish the book because all I could think about was Howard Jacobson with a hard on lusting after girls young enough to be his students - and that image wouldn't leave me. I didnt love or hate any of the characters they just irritated with their grim solopsisism. The puns are tired the humour isn't bawdy it's just crude. The author is imagining how men might talk about women when they're on their own, it sounded like what an intellectual might imagine blokes conversation to be like. Maybe the old roues at the university might lust like this, but the other lecturers would all avoid them, like you should with this book.