I was about to give up after slogging through the first half, which was stuffed with usual one-dimensional sex-obsessed Houellebecqian “philosophy”, but I’m glad I carried on, since the second half, when the boring narrator finally runs out of sex, has many more interesting ideas about the fate of civilisation.

Houellebecq does a bit too much Houellebecq in his newest novel. His misanthropy is becoming more and more oppressive and his quirks (characters drawn thinly around ideas, for example) are starting to become more irritating than charming. Still a good read for a ruthlessly sharp satire on contemporary society and the remnants of its culture.