Thanks, I hate it.

Things I like:
Ian McEwan's writing
Political satire
Franz Kafka
Taking the piss out of Tories
Bill Nighy reading me stories

Things I don't like:
Writers hotboxing themselves with their own farts
When satire isn't funny in the slightest, no matter how hard you crane your neck
Literary allusions as masterbatory aids
Liberals who think they are radical because they don't want to live in an isolationist conservative hellscape

Honestly, I was blowing raspberries at Bill Nighy as I started to lose my sanity in the onboxiousness of just how fucking inane and shitting boring this 2012, Partygate, Guardian thinkpiece of a book is. It does one thing exceptionally well, which is to show how fucked Brexit and the onward, rightward, authoritarian march or the Tories and how the English serfs love the taste of rubber, leather, and dog shit on their bootstrap fucking steaks--and what all this does to a motherfucker who can actually write and think!

This is only slightly less embarrassing that fucking JK shitting Rowling's utterly cringeful Night Before Christmas Corbyn pardoy. But at least that mortifying neo liberal TERF exercise in spilling smarm and fancy wine on a keyboard wasn't so utterly boring!

Ian. Mate. Mr McEwan. I get that shit is fucked. But this is not helping. This is also fucked shit and it does nothing, but make anyone who is not predisposed to giving themselves a fucking ham shandy over how fucking drole they are for saying Bojo even more of a headache.

They want all us trannies dead and we are dumping asylum seekers in Rwanda and building floating oubliettes and torture facilities. Fucking. Hell.

(Apologies. This book fucking broke my brain) ( )

El arranque de la novela no dejará indiferente a ningún lector, porque es una reelaboración del famosísimo inicio de La metamorfosis de Kafka. Solo que aquí se invierten los términos y nos encontramos con una cucaracha que un buen día, al despertarse, descubre que se ha convertido en un enorme ser humano, concretamente en el primer ministro del Reino Unido, de nombre Jim Sams. Y resulta no ser la única cucaracha transformada en político que se mueve por las altas esferas.

El primer ministro invoca al pueblo para situarse por encima de todo y de todos: la oposición, los disidentes de su propio partido e incluso el Parlamento y las normas más elementales de la democracia. Su plan estrella consiste en poner en práctica una absurda teoría económica llamada «reversionismo», cuya brillante idea es cambiar la dirección del flujo de dinero, de modo que uno debe pagar por trabajar y a su vez recibe dinero por comprar. Una fórmula mágica que supuestamente solucionará todos los problemas... ( )

I think the allegory is clear enough. Reversalism as Brexit in disguise is beautiful in its senselessness and silly daring, I don't see how the frame allegory of the cockroach adds to the critisicm. It does become clear that the politicians in question are self-centred creatures and motivated only by survival, as the bugs are, but their power-addiction and selfishness are someting that the image doesn't quite reflect. I know there is Kafka to think of, but really was there a day in Johnson's life when he woke up a changed man?
However, the workings of national party politics that show that what really matters is to establish and then to cling to power instead of working for the country are presented in brilliant laconicism and somewhere - not unrealistically - between "Yes, Prime Minister" and "House of Cards".

Political Brexit British satire metamorphosis, Boris Johnson, Metamorphosis, Kafka, satire ( )

Did not finish. ( )