The blurb on the back:
Can Jonathan break Herrington's record and seduce the daughters of every Minister in the Cabinet?
The first novel by a member of the Monty Python team is a typical product of its time: a wild and wacky series of vignettes that focus on sex, politics, sex, decadence and sex. So you get farcical elements (the Foreign Secretary is dead, but his embalmed body still turns up for Cabinet meetings), over-the-top satire (America decides that the Vietnam War is losing public appeal so decides to reinvade France, since D-Day was such a ratings winner) and basic incongruity (a masturbating astronaut), all delivered with a traditional British blend of wordplay and innuendo:
It's not a very good novel, of course, because there's no way all these bits are ever going to hang together in any coherent fashion, but there are inevitably good moments, some fine jokes and even the occasional flash of political prophecy:
Not a disaster then, but one of those books where you think: is there any point in finishing this? And there isn't. Surely it should have been better.
ENTERTAINMENT VALUE: 3/5
HIPNESS QUOTIENT: 3/5