After reading Barnes' masterful descriptions of Sir Jack's pretentions, I was very ready for this to be a rollicking ride of cutting satire and wit. Unfortunately, although the book was satirical throughout, I found it patchy in quality and often itself pretentious and superior.

The idea was fun, and had some interesting reflections on authenticity vs. inauthenticity, and certainly gives post-Brexit England pause for thought. Barnes' narrational style is very 'knowing', and leaves a lot to be inferred by reader. For me, this meant I annoyingly had to concentrate quite hard while reading bits of this, and often taxing paragraphs were really making very trivial points.

The story arc was clever I guess, but I certainly wasn't swept up in it, and didn't really care about any of the characters (though perhaps that's the point), even Martha whose vicissitudinous life we vaguely follow.

This book reminded me of modern French fiction, where it seems like the author hides behind a veil (or shield) of irony, which makes the reader feel foolish for trying to take anything seriously or at face value

Barnes is probably just too clever for my tastes, but I certainly can't say I enjoyed this one.