Dan Rhodes’s Anthropology is some of the warmest wittiest flash fiction out there, but this feels like it was written in two weeks during a stay in Paris. For a comic novel, it isn’t nearly as risky or dark enough to rise above its cloying tweeness, its cute-funny-boyfriend tone, its half-chewed ideas. A longer book satirising a zany French movement like the Oulipo might’ve been funnier, and he could’ve gone mad with the form and style.
Shame. Feels like it’s for a younger audience, too, maybe twelve-to-fifteen-year-olds.
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