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This British novel, Len Tyler´s second, is a stand-alone, but apart from that it is rather difficult to pin it down.
As I have read his debut, I expected a cosy mystery, but what exactly was it I got? A mystery, perhaps, but not that much crime. A love story? But I don´t like romances. And worst of all, even though the main story takes place ´this year´, there is also an old philosophy thread. But I loathe philosophy!
A few words about the plot: Chris Sorensen (or Christian Sørensen as is his Danish name) has a good job (better than he deserves, if I may say so) and the perfect girlfriend so what more can a man wish for? A solid grasp of reality, perhaps, which could prevent him from running into the most unexpected obstacles on his way to marital bliss together with Virginia. Chris may not be your typical philosopher, nevertheless he is not at all certain reality is anything but a very persistent illusion.
Did I remember to mention how much I loathe dumb-smart fortyish guys who think they are still young and who do not appreciate their wonderful girlfriends?
So why on earth did I enjoy this story so much?
First of all it was the humour, of course. Second, the tongue-in-cheek fashion Tyler treats his own Descartes-for-dummies thread.
An example:
“Well, fancy that,´ said the waiter, who had known all along that he existed and did not need a philosopher to tell him.”
I must say that I am one hundred percent on the side of that waiter, and between us we really enjoyed gloating over the pathetic philosopher whose principles couldn´t even get him a proper meal. (As long as I have a chance of winning, I don´t mind a philosophical discussion – apparently).
In two words: different and delicious – and I bought it myself.
My review of Tyler´s debut.
