stag hen

Confuses the hell out of people sat opposite you on the Tube.

“Shouldn’t you be packing?”

Stag and hen weekends have become bigger and bigger over time. They used to just be an excuse to get hammered at the pub, and now they’re whole weekends in spas, foreign cities, paintball ranges or water parks. This book is about two very big ones, and should my stag do be only a quarter as eventful as these ones, it might still be good much.

This is actually two books in one. Two hundred pages cover the events of the stag weekend, and then you flip the book over and read from the other side for another two hundred pages of the hen weekend. Or, read the hen weekend first and then go for the stags. I don’t know if it makes too much difference. I read stag-then-hen, which seemed to make most sense to me, but going the other way would probably be fine – either way you won’t understand things in the other until later.

So, this is the story of engaged couple Phil and Helen. He owns an electronics store, she is a successful local DJ and they appear to be blissfully in love. But here, a week before their marriage and spending time with their friends, the cracks are beginning to show. It doesn’t help that things have turned sour between their best friends, married couple Simon and Yaz, and that Phil’s hateful sister Caitlin is going on the hen weekend, or that Phil’s estranged dad has crashed the stag weekend.

I’ve read all of Mike Gayle’s work now, and I am a fan of his. In many respects, I see quite a lot of him in my own writing. Perhaps I’ve borrowed a style from him. It’s not exactly the same, but occasionally our phrasing overlaps. He’s just got more talent than me. I can’t pretend that this is the best of his work (I think that’s Brand New Friend) but it is enjoyable and the concept is unique and engaging. The main characters are perhaps not particularly likeable – rash, fairly selfish and plagued by insecurity – but the suspense left at the end of the novel is really rather palpable.

It’s a novel about doing the wrong things and saying the right things. And it’s sometimes pleasing to see that even when you’re in your late thirties, you still don’t really know a thing about life.

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