A strange book in some ways. Written by a prolific SciFi author in his twilight years, about an 80 year old man, Justin, living and writing in his twilight years. Oddly, the narrative is interrupted in Chapter 2 by a declaration by the author that this is fiction and Justin is not the author! The story is largely about how a relatively well-off old British man thinks and acts. He is anti-religious and is trying to convince others to adopt his view. He lives with his mother-in-law!! We hear a lot about his medications (especially his diuretics) and the frequency that he has to urinate as well as his need for viagra to maintain his sexual function. Justin is very interested in football and tennis and is very much a relic of the mid-20th century, with what we would now consider to be inappropriate attitudes and behaviour towards women, although his paternalism makes him think he is entirely benevolent. There's plenty of anti-Islamic and xenophobic prejudice in his quiet Oxfordshire village and Justin is a very grumpy and intolerant individual. I suppose my own advancing age and the frightening prospect that I might be becoming Justin were what kept me reading, but really, I can understand that many people just wouldn't be bothered. ( )