A review by lucymight
Theft by Luke Brown

3.0

This novel is unlike anything I have read before. I can best compare it to Joe Dunthorne's The Adulterants, or NW by Zadie Smith, crossed with the gently ebbing plot of maybe some early 20th century writer I can't decide on. F. Scott Fitzgerald? No. Someone else...
Our narrator, Paul, is living a rendition of the Literature graduate dream: he works as a bookseller, writes for an independent magazine and lives in a shared flat that doesn't pay council tax. All of his relationships are in a state of flux (his sister comes and goes, he has an old uni friend living on his sofa), he might be kicked out of his flat...in simple terms, Paul is a bit of a mess. The chaos of the protagonist's personal life reflects the chaos of our setting: Britain, 2016.
This book shows the eternal battle between an acceptance of how things are, and a burning desire for CHANGE. We feel it throughout the UK (even now!) and we feel it inside Paul's life. The tension is all emotional; the build up of events is slow and yet it isn't. He parties and bumps into people; he makes odd choices that pull the narrative along without you realising what he's up to until it's too late.
The novel is written tightly within Paul's (very entertaining) perspective. We become unable to deny his avoidance mechanisms, and we learn so much through what isn't said - his feelings for Emily, his displaced sense of belonging, how he feels about ageing. We get to know Paul through the little things he won't admit to us, which although it took me a moment to get the hang of, I really appreciated. Everyone is very cleverly characterised.
Which brings me to my favourite thing about this book: the characters. Some of them feel like caricatures based on people I've heard of, read, or seen posting on Twitter. Each one is authentic and current: the sex-journalist, her historian father, even down to the background characters and their bizarre views on Brexit. I haven't read something that so accurately pinpoints the current UK climate so accurately.
I felt that the narrative could be a little too subtle in places, and I wasn't always sure of the arc. Multiple threats to routine and emotional stability seemed to zoom in and out of focus - although I suppose that shows the denial of truth at the heart of this novel all too well. The overarching threats weren't always the most pressing ones, meaning my main question was: will he do something? When will Paul actually take matters into his own hands? What will it take to finally crack him - this chapter? Or the next? Or the next?
Overall, a compelling and colourful reflection on division and truth - both within individuals and a country. A very thought-provoking book. I'd love to read something similar that also reflected on women and femininity as part of the turmoil.