Patrick Robertson by Brian Hennigan

Brian Hennigan's deceptively simple prose relates the picaresque adventures of a travelling salesman, hiding a cruel and mordant wit behind increasingly surreal episodes. Written entirely from the sardonic perspective of the titular anti-hero, Patrick Robertson is a satirical swipe at the dehumanising forces of capitalism and an amusing shaggy dog story.

It begins with Patrick's kidnapping by inefficient yet well-meaning eco-terrorists, and relates his escape and return to civilisation. Patrick is a small-minded individual, who thinks nothing of theft, attempted murder and identity fraud, except in terms of the consequences for him. Having replaced morality with management jargon, he is able to survive situations that would destroy a better human being.

Hennigan's tone is wry and casually brutal. Patrick leaves a trail of dead and damaged lives behind him, but is unable to see any significance, perceiving human relationships purely as sales opportunities. But beyond the narrator, Hennigan fails to develop his characters: they are all stereotypes or under-developed. While this may be a function of Patrick's egotism, it is unsatisfying and ultimately trite. Hennigan has a great deal to say, his style is crisp and exact, and Patrick Robertson himself is a striking anti-hero. But this tale of adventure rarely explores the ideas it so tantalisingly suggests.