Entertaining Strangers (Salt Modern Fiction)

Taylor achieves a heartfelt yet unsentimental memoir that is also a reconciliation.

A brave and unsentimental book.

Riveting, detailed, moving account of his father's Parkinson's, mysterious past, and his own response to it.

A literary novel, with prose like music.

Somehow Taylor has created a penniless, snobbish autodidact who's completely adorable. Prince is the kind of character who comes along once in a lifetime, the kind who echoes in your thoughts for days after reading. The initial absurdity of his preoccupation with ants (and the ensuing repetition of the word `ants', unleashing laughs which I thought I'd reserved exclusively for Stewart Lee) develops into a more profound leitmotif and ultimately a poignant symbol of his self-destructiveness. The line between tragedy and comedy is redrawn in satisfyingly unexpected ways.

This is not to dumb down the novel at all, but to big it up: A literary novel, with prose like music. A novel that demands a reader response. A novel whose many many expletives swirl around hurt lives and confused emotions. A novel that deals with the crunchiness of living on the edge. That deals with families. And the way families can pass on their baggage of abusive behaviour and guilt to the next generation. And the one after that...And it is the stranger who falls through time and space through the front door that holds the key to the past.

Entertaining Strangers is probably one of the more creative and original novels I've ever read. It's definitely an intellectual's book: one clever and gigantic allegory full of surprises, and an abundance of intriguing information about ants.