The fact is, I didn’t get it. It’s quite well written and the voice of Min, the narrator, is readable enough, but frankly, I couldn’t see the point. First published in 1968, this seems to me to be a sort of late-60s Bridget Jones Diary. Min, the narrator, has a successful career in the BBC Radiophonic Workshop and is married. However the Workshop gets just a couple of scenes, chiefly so Min can have awkward relationships with her two co-workers. Her husband, who may or may not be having affairs, gets barely a mention. Meanwhile, Min is being pursued by two suitors – the titular bloater and Billy, whom she seems to actually care for. There’s some chat with female friends and a lot of confused angst...and I just didn’t find it funny or engaging.
Plainly, people whose views I respect really liked The Bloater. I’m afraid I didn’t and I can’t recommend it.
(My thanks to Vintage Classics for an ARC via NetGalley.)
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