Fin Book

James Delingpole's first novel, Fish Show, was an archly funny story about a Fleet Street restaurant reviewer who finds life more surreal than he ever imagined. Given that Delingpole himself is a Fleet Street freelancer known for music and TV criticism, it's possible to suggest that he likes to write autobiographically--an intriguing trait when you consider some of the scenes and subject matter in this, his second book. The hero of Fin is one Joe Davenport (AKA James Delingpole). A thirtysomething London-based journalist (and wannabe novelist), Davenport/Delingpole is into girls, porn, drink, coke, computer games, hashish, Radiohead and money. What Davenport is not into, is sharks: he has a profound and unaccountable shark-phobia which keeps intruding into his life even though he spends most of it in such theoretically shark-free arenas as Docklands flats, Hoxton discos, and trendy Soho drinking clubs. The style is briskly first-person, breezily present-tense, and refreshingly candid: "I AM DEFINITELY, DEFINITELY, DEFINITELY NOT GOING TO HAVE A WANK! Definitely not. Not at all. Never. Well not never, obviously, but not right now." The dialogue is sharp, well-observed, and funny: "How are we supposed to stay calm when we've just gone and lost half a frigging ounce of red-bearded skunk?" "We'll have a spliff". Delingpole eschews traditional characterisation and a plotting plot, but somehow this doesn't matter. After various encounters with various heartbreaking, heartbroken babes, the novel speeds to its gory, amusing, shark-infested denouement with such verve, good humour, and puppyish likeability, the reader feels constrained to forgive the infelicities. This light-hearted accessibility makes Fin an ideal holiday read--especially if you want to liven up that afternoon on the beach... Sean Thomas Read More