...It's remarkable that Petley manages to retain so much of that dizzying, combustible combination of rage, confusion, passion and resentment that seethes inside the average spotty-faced, greasy-haired 'misunderstood' teenage boy, and, what's more, turn it into the kind of story you know you've read a hundred times before but that still seems brand new ...Both Petley's wonderfully acerbic style as well as the disturbed mental state of Maxine herself, pretty much ensure that it's not going to end very prettily ...Both Henry and Maxine are the kind of utterly believable characters you almost wish weren't so real, so painful is their situation, but Petley's injections of twisted humour are enough to keep it from spilling into melodrama... This is a different kind of story altogether, breathing new life into the rather jaded form of the bildungsroman, and that's ultimately because it has been written by someone at a high point in their writing career, not at the beginning of it. If you liked David Mitchell, then you must read Dexter Petley; he's a hundred times better.
The Scotsman
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