Adam Thirlwell, I was recently dismayed to discover, writes non-fiction much like his fiction. He is infuriating. And brilliant. Politics, his debut novel, was perhaps the most irritating book I have ever thoroughly enjoyed reading. Miss Herbert, his debut work of non-fiction (due out in October), has already drawn level with it, and I’m not even half way through.
My theory is that Thirwell is talented enough to write in pretty well any way he likes, but he has decided to test his readers with a voice calibrated one constant notch short of unbearable. If you have any chips on…
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