WH Allen, London, 1982
To my mother - Mrs Alisa King - who's been waiting a long time for this!
dedication: To my mother - Mrs Alisa King - who's been waiting a long time for this!
The blurb on the back:
Jonathan King's first novel is a wickedly caustic satire filled with flamboyance and written with irresistible style. It is the story of an innocent abroad in a villainous world...
Jonathan King is a man of many talents: he gave the great 10cc their name, and ... er, well that's it really. His own records were uniformly unfunny, his TV presentation style was irritating and his claims to have discovered both the Bay City Rollers and Genesis are (a) exaggerated, in the case of the Rollers, who only had one hit with him, and (b) nothing to brag about.
But maybe pop music wasn't his field. Maybe behind the hideous Union Jack rosette he sported as a (failed) parliamentary candidate and the stupid Afro wig there beat the heart of a great writer. Well, here's the first (only?) novel. Is it any good?
Of course it's not. It's awful. It's a terrible attempt at Tom Sharpe. King clearly thought it displayed a free-wheeling, crazy kind of humour; anyone unfortunate enough to have read it will be numbed by its sheer ordinariness. Try him on the village pub:
Now he's been given an outrageously severe prison sentence (which I genuinely hope he doesn't have to serve in full), maybe he'll use his time in gaol learning how to write.
If you enjoyed this snide attack on a disgraced public figure, you might want to try a real crook like Jonathan Aitken as well.
ENTERTAINMENT VALUE: 1/5
HIPNESS QUOTIENT: 5/5