The first standalone novel by St. Aubyn takes him in a somewhat new direction. The Melrose stories (the first 3 were published before this novel came out) had always been as much about Patrick as they are about his family - Patrick is defined by his family and his upbringing.

Peter Thorpe is not Patrick Melrose and we hear almost nothing about his family. But his upbringing and his job replaces that family connection, allowing St. Aubyn to use a lot of the same mechanisms in a new way.

On the surface, the story looks almost trivial - a banker goes to a conference, meets a woman and decides to throw his career away to go chase after her and her beliefs. It is not a romance novel and it is not a tragedy and it could it slipped into either of those. Instead the novel is a sharp satire of all things New Age - from the people who lose all their money to gurus to the gurus themselves, from the constant swindling to the broken hopes. I suspect that for some people a lot of the humor may be offensive - St. Aubyn does not pull back and tends to be abrasive occasionally.

One thing that takes awhile to get used to is the lack of depth in a lot of the characters. They don't need the depth - a lot of them are supposed to represent a type and not a specific person - and that is very different from the Melrose novels. But once that part clicks properly, the novel can be hilarious in places and the ends fits perfectly. Add some great writing and I had a few very enjoyable hours with the characters in this novel.

St. Aubyn will return to the New Age topic with Eleanor's story in the Melrose novels. As I read them before this novel, I wonder if this one was not written as a preparation to the much more personal Melrose novel - we don't see the same people but a lot of the same ideas are there, now tied to people who are a lot more familiar to the reader and a lot better realized as characters.

I am not sure I would have liked this novel as much as I did if I had started with it. As different as it is from the Melrose trilogy, it shines in the comparison more than on its own - it almost reads like a companion piece even if it is not connected. Which can be a problem sometimes. ( )

Thanks to the publisher and goodreads for my free copy.

On the Edge essentially skewers certain aspects of New Age culture. And there are parts of this that are amazing -- whales with AIDS, the etiquette of telling someone you've burst into flames, for example.

But this just didn't do it for me. And I think it's mainly to do with the characters.

There's not a whole lot in the way of introductions to characterization at the beginning, nor is the point of view close enough to the characters to really connect with them.

So basically, right off the bat we get these over-the-top, ridiculous new-agey people... and no reason to care about them. And that makes it really hard to care about their various escapades.

And that plus a couple of other pet peeves (use of the t-slur for some transgender women, for example), made this hard to get through.

Which is not to say that this is a badly-written book. No, it just didn't fit with me as a reader.

All of that being said, I have to give this book major points for accuracy. I've worked with a lot of people involved in New Age stuff, and the dialogue sounded spookily familiar.

So, not my kind of book, but not a terrible book. It just wasn't for me. ( )

Fun comedy of manners that ridicules all the New Age twaddle. St. Aubyn captures the setting (Big Sur) and the ambiance perfectly. Confused characters desperately grope for some kind of semi-perfect happiness in a communal setting. Satire never had it so good. My main complaint: I never had any clear sense of individuality in the characters - some stood out more than others, but none of them was uniquely distinct (maybe that was the point?). ( )

Everyone, it seems, is seeking a better life, more bliss, greater authenticity, sexual fulfilment, and spiritual enrichment. Or at least all of the characters in On The Edge have these goals. Whatever their reasons or their circuitous paths, they all end up spending a week at the Californian new-age retreat, Esalen, pursuing workshops on rhythmic drumming, or silent mediation, or self-recreation, and culminating, for those couples with staying power, in a weekend of tantric sex. Will they find what they are looking for? And if they don’t, is there really no other option than taking the big leap off the edge? Or is this just a set-piece for Edward St. Aubyn’s comedic stylings, riffs on muddy spiritualism, and opportunities for extensive and extended use of similes?

Like a ‘70s mega-disaster movie, the cast of characters in this novel is immense and consequently tends toward stereotype and caricature. St. Aubyn somewhat awkwardly manoeuvres them to Esalen in separate chapters so that by the time we get everyone in place, we are well ready for the main feature to take off. But this isn’t going to be a French farce, which will be either a disappointment or blessing depending on your tastes. Rather, St. Aubyn’s deliciously acerbic wit confines itself to the observational, the satirical, and the deadpan. There are a number of British characters that provide the opening for weak insights into America, and a French philosopher is present toward the beginning of the novel to remind us of Baudrillard’s analysis of simulacra. But the apparent satire of new-age charlatans always verges on awe. Maybe it’s because St. Aubyn finds it difficult to not lend his native eloquence to such characters. Maybe it’s because he is essentially a romantic and wants to think well of his characters regardless of the nonsense they might be spewing. The effect is that the edge we are on does not seem as sharp or as cutting as it could easily have been.

The ending confirms the opening in that the meandering beginning spills overs into a meandering ending. Some characters have found a bit of bliss. Others are determined to change their lives. A few minor characters storm off in a huff. It’s a bit like a British romantic comedy or pudding — too sweet and yet insubstantial. St. Aubyn can, has, and will write better than this. You can leave this one on the shelf. ( )

This is the first book I have read by this author. I had a little trouble getting into the groove of his writing in the first chapter, but after that I was hooked. St. Aubyn masterfully captures the good/bad, helpful/helpless, hilarious/mournful wisdom and silliness of all the iterations of new age-i-ness guru quasi-cult fads in modern America. Seriously, I can't think of a single one that escaped his notice.

Your grandma might be shocked by this book -- that is unless your grandma was rocking it at Woodstock in the 70s or an est devotee in the 80s, in which case she might find it to be amusingly nostalgic. In considering with whom to share this book, just be forewarned that the Tantric sex references leave nothing to the imagination, if you get my drift.

*** I received my copy of this book for free through Goodreads First Reads (but I promise that did not influence my thoughts on this book). ( )