The we hit our thirties, Garthene got pregnant and we started going to viewing.
Throughout our twenties, it had been embedded in our world view that even to talk about property was death itself- the clue was the word mortgage “death pledge” in French. This aspect of the book gives it its best paragraph
Ray, the first person protagonist, is a tech writer, churning out pay-per-word reviews of electronic products for websites, married to a heavily pregnant ICU nurse, the two of them part of Generation Rent and searching with success for a small house they can afford – being outbid on the last family home at this price point anywhere within the M25 (a distinctly ugly masionette). But the wonder of The Adulterants is how we feel ourselves rooting for Ray even as we acknowledge that he deserves everything he gets.Ī short, uninvolving and lightweight story – which (not inaccurately) describes itself on the flyleaf as dissecting the urban millennial psyche of a man too old to be an actual millennial” with “wry affection. Throughout a series of escalating catastrophes, our deadpan antihero keeps up a merciless mental commentary on the foibles and failings of those around him, and the vicissitudes of modern urban life: internet trolls, buy-to-let landlords, open marriages, and the threat posed by more sensitive men. The Adulterants would be a coming-of-age story if its protagonist could only forget that he is thirty-three years old.
Not until the summer of 2011, when discontent is rising on the streets and within his marriage. He has never been caught up in a riot, nor arrested, nor tagged by the state, nor become an international hate-figure. He has never committed adultery with his actual body. He is a man who has never been punched above the neck. Ray Morris is a tech journalist with a forgettable face, a tiresome manner, a small but dedicated group of friends, and a wife, Garthene, who is pregnant.
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