There’s always a thread of state-of-the-nation running through Jonathan Coe’s fiction, sometimes more overt than others. This one opens in early September 2022 as Phyl Maidstone, freshly graduated and back in the family home, contemplates what to do with her future, distracted by notifications about the newly elected Conservative Party leader and slightly resentful at the prospect of an old family friend dropping in on his way to the TrueCon conference. Christopher’s a long-term critic of the increasingly extreme antics of some members of the Party. He and Joanna were at Cambridge, allies against the braying likes of Roger Wagstaff, now a TrueCon leading light. News of Christopher’s sudden, violent death shakes the Maidstones. It’s through writing that Phyl tries to make sense of it, first by adopting Britain’s favourite cosy crime genre, then exploring dark academia before turning her hand to autofiction. The drama of Liz Truss’ premiership plays out in the background, survived by the lettuce livestreamed by a tabloid alongside her picture.
Coe frames Phyl’s three attempts to write the story of Christopher’s death with a lengthy prologue setting the scene and a catch-up epilogue set in 2024. It’s a complicated structure which didn’t entirely work for me but the plotting is pleasingly intricate with some enjoyable lightbulb moments. He picks up familiar themes from his previous novels – entitlement, privilege, a particularly British nostalgia – none of which have served the country well, particularly over the last decade and a half. No prizes for subtlety but then I wouldn’t expect that from Coe’s brand of slapstick political satire. Fun is also poked at the literary world, in awe, as it often is, of a handful of names. Coe’s trademark filmic references run through the novel together with some clever word play. Not my favourite novel by him but enjoyably entertaining in a very British way.

Set amongst a Cotswold's backdrop, a country house hewn from oolitic limestone, exuding charm in honey coloured hues, becomes the scene for a murder most foul. Whilst the country pile is slipping in to noble rot, rather like the Sauternes dessert wine it serves, there are plans to secure funding to have it transformed from a crumbling hotel in to a stately home. Will the discovery of an old slave ship painting scupper that? Yes, something that the unwitting Christopher Swann brought to light whilst tagging along with a small group who were being shown around Weatherby Hall (now hosting a TrueCon conference). I say unwitting because the poor chap ended up dead, but was this about the painting or maybe one of a number of other possibilities?
I am afraid that the serenity of the Hall was drowned out by the grinding of political axes by the author, The murder mystery had a touch of the Miss Marple and the hunt for the murderer saved the day by going continental. However, it was a novel within a novel set in the old stomping ground of the late Sir Gerald Nabarro MP. It mentions Broadway and even Fish Hill as an automotive way to force someone to their death. Why it didn't go the whole hog and introduce Broadway Tower and Snowshill I don't know.
This novel is more for those interested in the allies and enemies forged at university and how this impacts future events, especially political ones.

I admire Jonathan Coe’s writing and have read several of his novels. This is the first one I have not really enjoyed.

It varies between different forms of writing. I enjoyed the first part but then it went into ‘cosy murder mystery’ format and I liked this less. It was tedious in parts. The part written as a memoir was better and especially about student life at Cambridge.

I liked Phyl the main recurring character. Less well drawn was Rash, a shame as they finish the story together.

The story also self references at the end. Previously aposiopesis has been explained as breaking off the story in the middle of a sentence. In this case the sentence is finished but the novel is left hanging at the end.

I am sure I will read and enjoy Coe in the future. This one just disappointing.

I read a proof copy provided by NetGalley and the publisher.