Odd that the acrobatic author of The Mezzanine and Room Temperature bombed with the subject of sex. This novel records the (seemingly endless) conversation between two strangers who 'meet' on a chat-line. This being Baker, they digress; but mainly they exchange masturbatory fantasies of - amazingly from a writer who can make the design of a sandwich bag sexy - numbingly unerotic gaucheness.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Bookmark popover
Removed from bookmarks