At first I thought this was going to be an endless round of drug shooting and debauchery. But reading further the book reveals a bigger message and is full of suprises. Bizarre at times but very readable; I began to need to know what would happen next.
'He's uptight,' Dorian mused. 'He'd fuck if I paid him to, but I don't want him to take me for just another trick. So we snog. I sort of like the idea of him, Henry, as a courtly figure. What was the fairy-tale lady in the tower called, the one with the long hair?'
'That's it. I like the idea of Herman as a black Rapunzel.'
'Come now!' Wotton snorted. 'You're being absurd - what are you going to do, shin up his dreadlocks? My dear Dorian, if love is every man's psychosis, you're crying out for a major sedative.' Wotton leaned into Dorian even more, so that the contours of their bodies fitted. 'More pressingly,' he breathed, 'are you sure you want to expose Herman - sensitive renter flower that he is - to the likes of burnt-out Baz, and flame-grilled Alan, on an evening that I trust will be more than outre?'
'Why not? We could help him, Henry. After all he's got nothing - nothing but a huge drug habit.'
'Now that is something that I can entirely sympathise with. Being poor would be an absolute tragedy. So poor that you had to be straight. The poor may take the occasional cheap day return to oblivion, but only the rich may maintain a villa there.'