Kill 'Em All by John Niven
The novel raises the question of whether satire works in the world we live in. Niven exposes how awful the people at the top are, and how grotesque their world is
The world’s most famous pop star, Lucius Du Pre, is broke. ‘Not broke like you’re broke, you idiot, sitting there in your flat reading a fucking book like a cunt,’ says Steven Stelfox, our narrator; the abrasive, foul-mouthed, grade-A arsehole A&R man we met in Kill Your Friends. He’s come out of retirement at 47 to help the record company deal with Du Pre’s mess.
There’s a crisis brewing: Du Pre’s a prolific paedophile, and the parents of one of his ‘special friends’ have just started blackmailing him. Stelfox swoops in on a jet to sort the whole lot out, alongside a team of top PRs who write some of the best fake news around. Set in 2017, Stelfox gleefully takes advantage of the opportunities thrown up by Brexit and Trump.
It’s a difficult read in places: the scene in which Du Pre’s sexual abuse of young kids is described in graphic detail is grim. Elsewhere, the satirical style works hard to shock; often it just feels like being trolled. The novel raises the question of whether satire works in the world we live in. Niven exposes how awful the people at the top are, and how grotesque their world is, but we know much of this already. The monsters at the top aren’t reading; they’re grabbing the world by the pussy and buying bigger yachts.
William Heinemann, 4 Oct, £16.99