About This Book
"The very model of the modern paranoid novel" (New York Times)—an ambitious work of semi-autobiographical fiction from one of England's greatest novelists.
"Unblinking candor informs Waugh's dark, comic vision."―William Boyd, Daily Telegraph (UK)
Gilbert Pinfold is a reclusive Catholic novelist suffering from acute inertia. In an attempt to defeat insomnia he has been imbibing an unappetizing cocktail of bromide, chloral, and crème de menthe. He books a passage on the SS Caliban and, as it cruises towards Ceylon, he slips rapidly into madness.
Almost as soon as the gangplank lifts, Pinfold hears sounds coming out of the ceiling of his cabin: wild jazz bands, barking dogs, and loud revival meetings. He is convinced that an erratic public-address system is letting him hear everything that goes on aboard ship . . .until instead of just sounds he hears voices. And not just any voices. These voices are talking, in the most frighteningly familiar way, about him!
"A genuine gothic horror, a gargoyle to terrify anyone who has ever contemplated a literary career. . . . The acid bath so often prepared for others has now found its way into his own tub. . . . Waugh draws an intimate picture of a distinguished author at bay." —Gerald Sykes, New York Times Book Review
"A masterpiece of self-portraiture, one of the very best in English fiction."―John Bailey, London Review of Books
"Waugh's clear-sightedness about himself . . . is something which, in this taut, brilliantly phrased and crafted story, is itself an assertion of order out of chaos."―A. N. Wilson, Telegraph (UK)
