Middle England

It is the history of how a “Great Britain” can shrink to a “Middle England”, and, by extension, of how a United Europe can become the powder keg it has already been in a not so distant past.

One of the things that stroke me more in the book, is the passage where a character very close to the political establishment is naively surprised that his counterpart refers to the process of leaving Europe as Brexit instead of Brixit, which apparently is the word the Prime Minister’s inner circle usually employs. However plausible Brixit might be, it’s not the universally known term, and the passage, as the rest of the book, is a clear clue of the fact that politicians of all parties live in their own world, far away from people they pretend to represent.

And the intellectuals? Those well educated people who could set the pace of a civilised nation prefer living in their mill houses like in a “John Constable painting”, and turning middle aged without great expectations; isn’t it time for a new Renaissance?

Since I moved to the UK in May 2008, not many books have been getting to me like this one has. Like, getting to my guts. Making me realise things, especially about the country I chose to call my home. Making me not want to put it down ever. It is so necessary in this Brexit palaver, and ties beautifully with The Rotters' club and The closed circle- although it can be read as a standalone (but it'll make you quickly want to go through the previous books once you finish it). It made me angry, it made me laugh out loud and cry. I found it splendid; Coe has proven to me once again that he is my favourite British writer.