Will, mate, get yourself a dictionary, why don’t you? Your use of poncy words means that your entire body is placed well above the parapet, and as a Jew, you should really know what a “shibboleth” is: especially since you use it in every bloody essay.
I love the way you write, and I love your motorway obsession, and I especially love the way you featured my local newsagent’s in a story (not in this collection).
However, this collection of essays is a bit arty and misses the point on a couple of occasions.
You really kicked the writing up a few notches when you wrote Liver. In comparison, your earlier work looks a little pretentious and overblown. Still fun to read, though.
Filed under: Book Review