I'm half way through Nirpal Singh Dhaliwal's book, Tourism, which (as promised) I am reading in the bath, and sometimes cheating a bit and reading on public transport. Not the sort of book you want to be reading on public transport and have someone read over your shoulder, though, if you get my rather pornographic drift.

It's not what I thought it would be at all. I thought it was going to be something challenging and innovative and exciting, even if I didn't agree with what it said about race, or women, or sex. But actually I think it's just another pseudo-existentialist monologue about an enraged, solitary, non-communicative boy who can't express himself, but loves describing how broken and manly he is, and desperately wants to have sex with the only clever woman in his life who isn't his mother. Which is a story I've read before, and was boring even the first time.

But of course, I'm keeping an open mind.

Could be rip-snorter from here on in. Who knows.