First published in Holland in 1947 and now translated into English for the first time, this unremittingly bleak tale of a young man who finds that his life has no meaning is both compelling and blackly humorous. Frits has a mundane job and leads a monotonous existence. Still living at home with his parents – who are actually quite likeable but who are slowly driving him mad with irritation – Frits is a difficult person to feel any sympathy for at all. Even if we feel empathy with his ennui and existential angst he certainly doesn’t come across as in any way someone the reader could care about. And that surely is the point. Boredom and futility make up his daily existence and in this short novel we get to spend 10 evenings with him as he goes around being generally unpleasant to his long-suffering friends. I loved this book and can quite understand why it is considered a classic of Dutch literature. I can also see why many readers haven’t enjoyed it. The book has little point, just as his life has little point. But I found it quite mesmerising in its atmosphere and the portrait it paints of immediate post-war Holland. A small gem of European literature.

Pushkin Press deserves great praise for its achievements in bringing diverse experiences to English-only readers by means of its stimulating list of translations.

Unfortunately, eminent Dutch author Gerard Reve's The Evenings fails to grip the reader, though the initial pages give the impression of moving into an interesting territory that would be familiar to Kafka. "Hero" Frits, a bored and boring clerk, who enjoys cruelty and pettiness and adopts an unwarranted superiority, but does not have any of the qualities that make unattractive characters amusing or subversively likeable. In an Irish Times podcast, recently, Goldsmith Prize winner Mike McCormack tells of how his editor at Jonathan Cape returned his first novel on the basis that all depended on the central character and there were sympathetic characters and pathetic characters and his central character was the latter. And, unfortunately, Frits is also in the same boat. Mike McCormack went on to rewrite that novel. Reve, apparently, went on to write much better books. .

I would recommend for lovers of existentialist literature and those who don't need plot to keep,them interested, A must-read though for those interested in classic European literature,

Sorry but I'm passing on this one. I couldn't get through it

Your enjoyment of this book will depend solely on whether you can get on board with the protagonist, Frits. He is a rather divisive figure, speaking unkindly to his family and friends and with a mild obsession about baldness. Beneath this prickly outer shell, however, lies a man in a state of moral uncertainty. His worries about the future and the path of his own mundane life are clear to see. The prose is clipped and well composed, but the dialogue is a little unbelievable. The only character that we get a true sense of is Frits, with all others being seen only through his eyes. Ultimately, I found the novel a little bid turgid to get through. It's certainly interesting, but for me, not very compelling.