The Debt to Pleasure

by John Lanchester

Book Overview

Winner of the Whitbread Award for Best First Novel and a New York Times Notable Book, John Lanchester's The Debt to Pleasure is a wickedly funny ode to food. Traveling from Portsmouth to the south of... This description may be from another edition of this product.

• Format: Hardcover
• Language: English
• ISBN: 0805043888
• ISBN13: 9780805043884
• Release Date: January 1996
• Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing PLC
• Length: 251 Pages
• Weight: 0.80 lbs.
• Dimensions: 1.1" x 5.3" x 7.8"

Customer Reviews

Leaves you hungry for more

John Lanchester gives us a study in pretentiousness, self-denial and deranged envy that would sit proudly on any psychologist's bookshelves, while keeping the reader gripped in this most unusual novel. Part travelogue, part diary, part recipe book... wholly entertaining. All that and elements of a whodunnit turned on its head make this one of the most interesting books you'll read for a long time. What starts off, apparently, as the snobbish diary of a nobody becomes compelling very quickly in ways the reader certainly doesn't expect. The dark humour is perfectly observed and often laugh-out-loud funny; the meticulously-concocted (and utterly convincing) recipes make for mouth-watering platforms of action and opinionated soap-boxing by the main character; the hints at a murky past leave you curious to find out just what is going on as Tarquin Winot travels south on what appears to be some sort of quest; the plot drives forward through unconventional means until you're utterly engaged by the insane thoughts of one of modern fiction's most devilishly intriguing creations. The Debt To Pleasure is not a conventional novel. The narrative does not develop along conventional lines. The fascination is not always for what happens next but rather for what is going on in Tarquin Winot's mind, and how to unravel his deluded understanding of his past, his relationship to those around him and his philosophy of life from what might, by the rest of us, be called 'the truth'. The story is written in the first-person, and that person is clearly bonkers. An easy read, it works on many levels, entertaining, enthralling and inviting us into the mind of a man who can't distinguish invention from reality, or even right from wrong. The past, desires, hatred, envy, unfulfilled ambition, sibling rivalry and the amorality of a psychopath are used like ingredients in a dish that leaves you with a very satisfying aftertaste.

Fiendishly clever, totally engaging.

Tarquin Winot, the speaker of this wickedly entertaining novel, is an artist, a dedicated gourmet, and a brilliant and thoughtful philosopher. He is also an intolerant and arrogant snob who foists his lofty opinions upon the reader as he travels from Portsmouth to southern France. In sometimes long-winded sentences, Winot comments on effete subjects, such as the erotics of dislike, the aesthetics of absence, and his disinterest in the idea of interest, while simultaneously creating deliciously sensuous descriptions of the perfect bouillabaise, lamb with apricots, or pike in beurre blanc. Winot is so waspishly nasty, so full of condescension, and so unsympathetic a character that I almost gave up on him and the book, thinking both too rarefied to be interesting. Then the author "hooked" me with a few details that made me think that Winot might not be all he seemed to be--that he might be far more fascinating than I had previously suspected. As Winot takes the reader through a series of elaborate seasonal menus, he casually drops hints about his past, piquing the reader's interest and inspiring him/her to figure out exactly what kind of man Winot is and what, exactly, he has done. This strange, unwinding backstory becomes the compelling "plot." Carefully crafted and (ultimately) coherent, this novel of intrigue is a delight to read, filled with sumptuous imagery, wickedly dark humor, and a series of mysteries that depend on the reader's ability to read between the lines and draw conclusions. Both cerebral and sensual, this is a literary entree one cannot help but savor. n Mary Whipple

Scrumptious but unsettling...

This book gave me that feeling of when you eat something very strange (maybe some bizarre sushi or sashimi) right before you go to sleep, and you get a fluttery, unsettled feeling in your stomach. The Debt to Pleasure was just that- quite unsettling. It was also very, very funny and so engaging that I found it hard to put down. As far as the hard, pretentious vocabulary- I'm 15 and I didn't find it unreadable. It does take more time to read than your average book, but it's well worth it. The arrogance and sheer pretention of the prose are another matter, but they add to the personality of the narrator.

Fiendishly clever and totally involving.

A critic quoted on the book jacket claims that The Debt to Pleasure "has no flaws." That may or may not be true, but the critic's obvious enthusiasm for the book certainly matches my own! It is devilishly entertaining. Tarquin Winot, the speaker, is an artist, a dedicated gourmet, a brilliant and thoughtful philosopher, and an intolerant and arrogant supersnob who shares his lofty opinions with the reader as he travels from Portsmouth to southern France. In sometimes long-winded sentences, Winot comments on effete subjects, such as the erotics of dislike, the aesthetics of absence, and his disinterest in the idea of interest, while simultaneously creating deliciously sensuous descriptions of the perfect bouillabaise, lamb with apricots, or pike in beurre blanc. Winot is so waspishly nasty, so full of condescension, that I almost abandoned the book as too rarefied to care about. Then the author "hooked" me with a few details that made me think that Winot might not be all he seemed to be--that he might be far more interesting than anything I had previously suspected. This carefully crafted and (ultimately) coherent novel of intrigue is a delight to read--the sort of book to savor in even the smallest of doses. Mary Whipple

a must for the dark, sardonic, epicurean

I must say that I was very pleased with myself after finishing this novel, because reading it was actually work, albeit in a satisfying way. Potential readers should be advised to keep a dictionary handy.This book requires effort because it is too well written to rush through, and to fully comprehend and, more importantly, savor the passages one needs to devote the requisite time to absorb them. It is written in that typically dry, droll, understated British fashion that makes you laugh on the inside.Initially, although I appreciated the work, I felt I needed a break because, while clever, I wanted to read something that moved faster even if less cerebral. However, about a third through the book suddenly begins to surprise you by presenting new and unexpected twists which keep you throughly engaged.This book is a must for the dark, sardonic, epicurean whose teeth began to hurt, and needed something "wicked" after reading Peter Mayle and Frances Mayes.