Pilcrow, 17 Nov 2008
This is a truly remarkable novel, a masterpiece. It is a Proustian evocation of a fifties childhood, recaptured in extraordinary detail, and with great wit and good humour. Mars Jones is well known as a critic and for his shorter fiction, and here for the first time he writes at leisurely length. A second volume is promised, and is eagerly awaited by his admirers.

Fantastic writing on a odd adolescent.....what next? ***1/2 stars , 02 Nov 2008
'The spring I learned to drive, the cherry tree in front of our house in Bourne End flowered as never before'. It was 1968'.

From these opening lines I was expecting a David Mitchell ( in Black Swan Green mode) exploration of adolescence. Instead there is a slow moving, incredibly detailed account of firstly bed rest for rheumatic fever - absolutely the wrong treatment for the Still's disease that it turns out that John Cromer really has - and then life in the special hospital for children with Still's.

It's a strange rites of passage novel as John Cromer is a strange boy. The detail of the descriptions can be excruciating - his pain at the hands of the nurses rather than his mother's care, his first sexual encounters and the logistical and physical difficulty of them considering his handicaps and those of his partners.

The detail and the length give us some insight into a life which is so severely curtailed physically if not in thought and spirit...but I'm still left wondering what Adam Mars-Jones was telling us.

The writing is good and funny - but the book just ends - I've since read that this is the first book in a trilogy - in which case I don't think it works fully as a stand alone volume.

Pilcrow, 17 Nov 2008
This is a truly remarkable novel, a masterpiece. It is a Proustian evocation of a fifties childhood, recaptured in extraordinary detail, and with great wit and good humour. Mars Jones is well known as a critic and for his shorter fiction, and here for the first time he writes at leisurely length. A second volume is promised, and is eagerly awaited by his admirers.

Fantastic writing on a odd adolescent.....what next? ***1/2 stars , 02 Nov 2008
'The spring I learned to drive, the cherry tree in front of our house in Bourne End flowered as never before'. It was 1968'.

From these opening lines I was expecting a David Mitchell ( in Black Swan Green mode) exploration of adolescence. Instead there is a slow moving, incredibly detailed account of firstly bed rest for rheumatic fever - absolutely the wrong treatment for the Still's disease that it turns out that John Cromer really has - and then life in the special hospital for children with Still's.

It's a strange rites of passage novel as John Cromer is a strange boy. The detail of the descriptions can be excruciating - his pain at the hands of the nurses rather than his mother's care, his first sexual encounters and the logistical and physical difficulty of them considering his handicaps and those of his partners.

The detail and the length give us some insight into a life which is so severely curtailed physically if not in thought and spirit...but I'm still left wondering what Adam Mars-Jones was telling us.

The writing is good and funny - but the book just ends - I've since read that this is the first book in a trilogy - in which case I don't think it works fully as a stand alone volume.


Pilcrow, 17 Nov 2008
This is a truly remarkable novel, a masterpiece. It is a Proustian evocation of a fifties childhood, recaptured in extraordinary detail, and with great wit and good humour. Mars Jones is well known as a critic and for his shorter fiction, and here for the first time he writes at leisurely length. A second volume is promised, and is eagerly awaited by his admirers.

Fantastic writing on a odd adolescent.....what next? ***1/2 stars , 02 Nov 2008
'The spring I learned to drive, the cherry tree in front of our house in Bourne End flowered as never before'. It was 1968'.

From these opening lines I was expecting a David Mitchell ( in Black Swan Green mode) exploration of adolescence. Instead there is a slow moving, incredibly detailed account of firstly bed rest for rheumatic fever - absolutely the wrong treatment for the Still's disease that it turns out that John Cromer really has - and then life in the special hospital for children with Still's.

It's a strange rites of passage novel as John Cromer is a strange boy. The detail of the descriptions can be excruciating - his pain at the hands of the nurses rather than his mother's care, his first sexual encounters and the logistical and physical difficulty of them considering his handicaps and those of his partners.

The detail and the length give us some insight into a life which is so severely curtailed physically if not in thought and spirit...but I'm still left wondering what Adam Mars-Jones was telling us.

The writing is good and funny - but the book just ends - I've since read that this is the first book in a trilogy - in which case I don't think it works fully as a stand alone volume.

Pilcrow, 17 Nov 2008
This is a truly remarkable novel, a masterpiece. It is a Proustian evocation of a fifties childhood, recaptured in extraordinary detail, and with great wit and good humour. Mars Jones is well known as a critic and for his shorter fiction, and here for the first time he writes at leisurely length. A second volume is promised, and is eagerly awaited by his admirers.

Fantastic writing on a odd adolescent.....what next? ***1/2 stars , 02 Nov 2008
'The spring I learned to drive, the cherry tree in front of our house in Bourne End flowered as never before'. It was 1968'.

From these opening lines I was expecting a David Mitchell ( in Black Swan Green mode) exploration of adolescence. Instead there is a slow moving, incredibly detailed account of firstly bed rest for rheumatic fever - absolutely the wrong treatment for the Still's disease that it turns out that John Cromer really has - and then life in the special hospital for children with Still's.

It's a strange rites of passage novel as John Cromer is a strange boy. The detail of the descriptions can be excruciating - his pain at the hands of the nurses rather than his mother's care, his first sexual encounters and the logistical and physical difficulty of them considering his handicaps and those of his partners.

The detail and the length give us some insight into a life which is so severely curtailed physically if not in thought and spirit...but I'm still left wondering what Adam Mars-Jones was telling us.

The writing is good and funny - but the book just ends - I've since read that this is the first book in a trilogy - in which case I don't think it works fully as a stand alone volume.


Pilcrow, 17 Nov 2008
This is a truly remarkable novel, a masterpiece. It is a Proustian evocation of a fifties childhood, recaptured in extraordinary detail, and with great wit and good humour. Mars Jones is well known as a critic and for his shorter fiction, and here for the first time he writes at leisurely length. A second volume is promised, and is eagerly awaited by his admirers.

Fantastic writing on a odd adolescent.....what next? ***1/2 stars , 02 Nov 2008
'The spring I learned to drive, the cherry tree in front of our house in Bourne End flowered as never before'. It was 1968'.

From these opening lines I was expecting a David Mitchell ( in Black Swan Green mode) exploration of adolescence. Instead there is a slow moving, incredibly detailed account of firstly bed rest for rheumatic fever - absolutely the wrong treatment for the Still's disease that it turns out that John Cromer really has - and then life in the special hospital for children with Still's.

It's a strange rites of passage novel as John Cromer is a strange boy. The detail of the descriptions can be excruciating - his pain at the hands of the nurses rather than his mother's care, his first sexual encounters and the logistical and physical difficulty of them considering his handicaps and those of his partners.

The detail and the length give us some insight into a life which is so severely curtailed physically if not in thought and spirit...but I'm still left wondering what Adam Mars-Jones was telling us.

The writing is good and funny - but the book just ends - I've since read that this is the first book in a trilogy - in which case I don't think it works fully as a stand alone volume.


The human side of the HIV epidemic, 10 Nov 2001
This book of longish short stories basically asks and seeks to answer this question: "Yeah, right, we've all read the news stories and seen the statistics, but how does HIV really affect real people?" The whole issue is thoroughly explored, focusing on the gay community all over the world. These stories are extremely sad, but also life-affirming. My favourite was a calm, touching account of two men, one HIV positive, one HIV negative, going on a romantic weekend to Brighton- it's a real love story. This book also gives a good picture of the gay scene (which as a straight girl I don't usually get to know much about).

Pilcrow, 17 Nov 2008
This is a truly remarkable novel, a masterpiece. It is a Proustian evocation of a fifties childhood, recaptured in extraordinary detail, and with great wit and good humour. Mars Jones is well known as a critic and for his shorter fiction, and here for the first time he writes at leisurely length. A second volume is promised, and is eagerly awaited by his admirers.

Fantastic writing on a odd adolescent.....what next? ***1/2 stars , 02 Nov 2008
'The spring I learned to drive, the cherry tree in front of our house in Bourne End flowered as never before'. It was 1968'.

From these opening lines I was expecting a David Mitchell ( in Black Swan Green mode) exploration of adolescence. Instead there is a slow moving, incredibly detailed account of firstly bed rest for rheumatic fever - absolutely the wrong treatment for the Still's disease that it turns out that John Cromer really has - and then life in the special hospital for children with Still's.

It's a strange rites of passage novel as John Cromer is a strange boy. The detail of the descriptions can be excruciating - his pain at the hands of the nurses rather than his mother's care, his first sexual encounters and the logistical and physical difficulty of them considering his handicaps and those of his partners.

The detail and the length give us some insight into a life which is so severely curtailed physically if not in thought and spirit...but I'm still left wondering what Adam Mars-Jones was telling us.

The writing is good and funny - but the book just ends - I've since read that this is the first book in a trilogy - in which case I don't think it works fully as a stand alone volume.


Pilcrow, 17 Nov 2008
This is a truly remarkable novel, a masterpiece. It is a Proustian evocation of a fifties childhood, recaptured in extraordinary detail, and with great wit and good humour. Mars Jones is well known as a critic and for his shorter fiction, and here for the first time he writes at leisurely length. A second volume is promised, and is eagerly awaited by his admirers.

Fantastic writing on a odd adolescent.....what next? ***1/2 stars , 02 Nov 2008
'The spring I learned to drive, the cherry tree in front of our house in Bourne End flowered as never before'. It was 1968'.

From these opening lines I was expecting a David Mitchell ( in Black Swan Green mode) exploration of adolescence. Instead there is a slow moving, incredibly detailed account of firstly bed rest for rheumatic fever - absolutely the wrong treatment for the Still's disease that it turns out that John Cromer really has - and then life in the special hospital for children with Still's.

It's a strange rites of passage novel as John Cromer is a strange boy. The detail of the descriptions can be excruciating - his pain at the hands of the nurses rather than his mother's care, his first sexual encounters and the logistical and physical difficulty of them considering his handicaps and those of his partners.

The detail and the length give us some insight into a life which is so severely curtailed physically if not in thought and spirit...but I'm still left wondering what Adam Mars-Jones was telling us.

The writing is good and funny - but the book just ends - I've since read that this is the first book in a trilogy - in which case I don't think it works fully as a stand alone volume.


The human side of the HIV epidemic, 10 Nov 2001
This book of longish short stories basically asks and seeks to answer this question: "Yeah, right, we've all read the news stories and seen the statistics, but how does HIV really affect real people?" The whole issue is thoroughly explored, focusing on the gay community all over the world. These stories are extremely sad, but also life-affirming. My favourite was a calm, touching account of two men, one HIV positive, one HIV negative, going on a romantic weekend to Brighton- it's a real love story. This book also gives a good picture of the gay scene (which as a straight girl I don't usually get to know much about).

Brilliant contribution to the art of the short story, 28 Jul 2004
This is one of my favourite books - desperately funny, horribly smart but thoughtful, every sentence stuffed full of ideas, or spare and elegant. The stories are very different but they all grab you and won't let go.

The only shame is that Adam Mars-Jones hasn't done much fiction since. Why did he stop? Is the critic's life really that rewarding?

Review, 25 Nov 2002
This was a highly satisfying work--Mars-Jones writes capably and each word bares resonance of some sort or other. In his short story "Structural Anthropology" he manages to say rather a lot about rather a little in the way of subject matter. But this makes him a success-he is effectively making us address what it is to read a story.