The Debt to Pleasure

Rating:
Summary: Van Veen in the kitchen
Review: Tarquin Winot is from the Hannibal school of elegant criminals, but he is far more effete and philosophical than Lecter. He's also a narcissistic snob. A bad man with refined and sophisticated tastes-- Hannibal crossed with Humbert Humbert maybe? Or better yet, Van Veen, if Van were somewhat more dehumanized. The Nabokovian affectation is obvious, but it comes across as Nabokov Lite. Still this book has its moments; despite the overly parenthetical and often obtuse prose style it is sometimes very very funny.

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Summary: Fiendishly clever and totally involving.
Review: A critic quoted on the book jacket claims that The Debt to Pleasure "has no flaws." That may or may not be true, but the critic's obvious enthusiasm for the book certainly matches my own! It is devilishly entertaining.

Tarquin Winot, the speaker, is an artist, a dedicated gourmet, a brilliant and thoughtful philosopher, and an intolerant and arrogant supersnob who shares his lofty opinions with the reader as he travels from Portsmouth to southern France. In sometimes long-winded sentences, Winot comments on effete subjects, such as the erotics of dislike, the aesthetics of absence, and his disinterest in the idea of interest, while simultaneously creating deliciously sensuous descriptions of the perfect bouillabaise, lamb with apricots, or pike in beurre blanc.

Winot is so waspishly nasty, so full of condescension, that I almost abandoned the book as too rarefied to care about. Then the author "hooked" me with a few details that made me think that Winot might not be all he seemed to be--that he might be far more interesting than anything I had previously suspected. This carefully crafted and (ultimately) coherent novel of intrigue is a delight to read--the sort of book to savor in even the smallest of doses.

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Summary: Dinner with a side of homocide
Review: Tarquin, the protagonist of this philosophical/culinary mystery, presents himself as an intellectually superior epicure with a passion for fine food. He structures his treatise in seasonal form, with a series of menus branching out into meanderings about food, travel, and family life. Through his verbose ramblings, Tarquin reveals himself as a much more than he suggests at first. In short, he has murdered his nanny, his parents, his brother, his neighbor, and an acquaintance and her husband.

I had to marvel at Lanchester's skill in setting up this story. Like the fish stew that Tarquin describes so lovingly, the novel has layers upon layers of density. Tarquin, the sociopath, knows exactly what he is doing, as he subtly drops hint after hint about the killings. He draws attention to his own cleverness in destroying life, since, to paraphrase his own words, destruction is a higher art than creation.

This novel demands attention, through its complicated sentences and erudite phrasing, as well as its complex ideas and undercurrents. In the end, though, Lanchester, much like his main character Tarquin, leaves the reader both awed and extremely uneasy.

Rating:
Summary: a must for the dark, sardonic, epicurean
Review: I must say that I was very pleased with myself after finishing this novel, because reading it was actually work, albeit in a satisfying way. Potential readers should be advised to keep a dictionary handy.

This book requires effort because it is too well written to rush through, and to fully comprehend and, more importantly, savor the passages one needs to devote the requisite time to absorb them. It is written in that typically dry, droll, understated British fashion that makes you laugh on the inside.

Initially, although I appreciated the work, I felt I needed a break because, while clever, I wanted to read something that moved faster even if less cerebral. However, about a third through the book suddenly begins to surprise you by presenting new and unexpected twists which keep you throughly engaged.

This book is a must for the dark, sardonic, epicurean whose teeth began to hurt, and needed something "wicked" after reading Peter Mayle and Frances Mayes.

Rating:
Summary: Wicked read.
Review: Lanchester is a brilliant stylist -- Tarquin Winot is one of the great characters in recent fiction. Part travelogue, part cookbook, part confessional, the book's total is much greater than the sum of its extremely clever parts, and its sinister underbelly reveals itself at exactly the right pace.

Rating:
Summary: A tasty journey with a narrator you love to hate
Review: When the writing's this good there's not much else to say. Vivid characters, fascinating tidbits and a narrator that keeps you turning the pages with glee. Masterfully done.

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Summary: the debt to nabokov
Review: This book impressed me first and formeost as the work of a Nabokov wannabe. The "unreliable narrator" ploy, the protagonist who is, at least in his own eyes, too good for this world, the slow unveiling of horror within a texture of polite erudition and so on all felt deeply familiar from the moment i picked up the book and it didn't take long to figure out where I'd run across them before. That said, my advice to Mr. Lanchester is, "Nice try John, keep workin' on it but... keep your day job."

I remember meeting a man called Alexis once on the island of Hydra. He was handsome, charming, witty and international. He had lived all over the world and had, to quote Roy Batty, "seen things you people wouldn't believe." He was instantly likeable and almost everyone in the gentle crowd of artists, rock stars, hippies and vacationing literati swirling around him liked him immensely in spite of the fact that, once you got to know him a bit, you realized that he was a cold-blooded, mercenary killer who specialized in working for governments engaged in the dirtiest of wars - Angola, Brazil, Chile and so on. Reading "Lolita" is a little like spending an afternoon with Alexis. The texture of the experience is so rich and luxurious, the pacing and plotting so deft that you are willing to forgive your companion almost anything just as long as you can continue to bask in the glow of the encounter. By contrast, reading "The Debt to Pleasure" is a bit like a first date with someone who turns out to be exasperating, self-absorbed and, in the end, not particularly interesting. By the end of the first chapter "A Winter Menu" there was, I'll admit, a bit of intrigue left. By the middle of the third chapter, around page 80 of this 250 page book, the lanscape was utterly clear with respect to everything but the minutest details and I found myself slogging through reams of tortured and not particularly engaging prose just to see how it would end - in fact, just to end it.

It is not an experience I would care to repeat. Note to self, " No More Dinners with Mr. Winot."

Rating:
Summary: Delicious!
Review: Unlike some of the other reviewers, I didn't find this book to be too wordy or difficult to read, but then I've traveled extensively in both England and France and have studied gourmet cooking, so maybe I have an advantage in this area. I thought Debt to Pleasure was simply delicious, a sheer delight. A character study par excellence. John Lanchester reveals his character's true personality little by little, delighting us more and more with each new piece of information. Sheer genius!

Rating:
Summary: Captivating and a real challenge
Review: This novel is extremely well written with a vocabulary that will challenge a Ph.D. in English. It also helps if you like cooking and art, and have traveled in England and France. I wouldn't dream of giving the plot away by discribing it in detail. Suffice it to say that you will not be able to put the book down, and will probably want to read it more than once to get a handle on all of the implications. A delight to read and to figure out.

Rating:
Summary: a slow thriller for the gourmand
Review: John Lanchaster's debut, A Debt to Pleasure, is one of a number of food-related novels to appear on national bestseller lists recently. While professional reviews were overwhelmingly laudatory, public reaction to the difficult book was more of a love/hate affair. Maybe the esoteric vocabulary and arrogant nature of Lanchaster's irrepressible narrator, Tarquin Winot, targets the reviewers insecurity by appealing to the genius-envy we all live with. Or perhaps those in the industry who were confused by certain features of the novel (like frequent and seemingly endless parentheticals which purposefully lead the reader careening down other avenues of thought, until stupefied, they realize guiltily that they are lost in the words) felt too baffled to issue forth a criticism. Whatever the case, a dictionary and a reading environment free from distraction are recommended. Throughout the book, the narrator's sanctimonious musings leap aggressively between the classic subjects of history, art and (of course) cuisine. Themes are tied together as our anti-hero prepares, contemplates, and consumes carefully considered gourmet meals while on a car tour of the French countryside. Aspects of each meal inevitably provide Winot with yet another piece of evidence to reaffirm his superiority over the rest of humanity. Every step of the way, we consider his thought provoking, if not psychotic, perspectives on subjects as far-ranging as the importance of a balanced breakfast and the inevitability of murder. The biting, comic, tone of Winot's commentary on the world around him brings to mind a similarly misguided protagonist: Ignatius J. Reilly of John Kennedy Toole's masterpiece, A Confederacy of Dunces. To be sure, both books share a tragi-comic impending sense of doom, perhaps meant to leave the reader feeling uneasy -- wondering what sort of person he or she has become to be smiling in the midst of such truly unpleasant commentary. A murderous past and deplorable intentions surface as the novel progresses, and one eerily feels an implicit warning of the real and present danger lurking menacingly in the mind of every true elitist. By the end of the book, Tarquin Winot's treacherous sophistication reminds us of another high-culture psychopath -- the great Hannibal Lecter. The avid reader is sure to be impressed by Lanchaster's debut effort, and his skill as a writer cannot be overstated. The most educated culinarian will marvel at his profound appreciation for the culinary arts (he was once the restaurant critic for the London Observer) and the brilliant way in which he uses food as a medium to unravel Winot's sinister psychosis. With its meandering pace, though, and psychological detours, A Debt to Pleasure is not for everyone. It's not a page-turner to take you skipping away from everyday life, but rather (like a good meal), something to reflect on over time.