I misread the back of this book when I bought it, and somehow "Waugh's finest novel" became "Waugh's funniest novel" in my head. And sure, this novel has some very funny lines -- "luncheon was full of absurd women in the sort of hats they should be made to eat"-- but overall "funny" is not the word I would use. It's pretty tragic, actually.
The first part was so terribly British that I felt like I needed a translator, like when you read a book in a language you sort of speak but you know you're missing all the references and nuance because you don't know all the slang. I had no IDEA what was going on at college, and if I didn't have a friend from the UK to tell me about British schooling I would be totally lost. Then it settles down into a love story between Charles and Sebastian (really, it couldn't be less subtle. It's Great Gatsby levels of unsubtle gay love.) and actually is a super interesting read about the interwar period in England. Everyone is doomed, of course; it's That Sort of Novel.
It does make me want to read some literary crticism of the book and find out what I'm missing, though. I feel like I'm missing things. I really, really enjoyed it, though, once I got past the first third. Maybe I will go and watch the movie.
Grade: B
Originally published 2009
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