A story about a group of wildly different characters whose fates are improbably yet inextricably linked—a novel about extinction and survival, inheritance and loss.
Interestingly troubled characters ... Potent compound of dark wit and flinty compassion ... I have seldom read a novel that argues more cogently for the hard-won breakthroughs of psychoanalysis ...
If there is a flaw in St Aubyn’s dramas of consciousness it’s the tendency of his characters all to think and talk in the same register of droll irony ... From suicide observation room to cutting-edge art installation, Parallel Lines plots quite the journey ... In a lesser writer the temptations of sentimentality would get the upper hand, but St Aubyn is clear-sighted and humane on the basic requirement of life.
St Aubyn dips in and out of his characters’ viewpoints somewhat randomly. A Catholic priest pops up, meditates, then vanishes. The plot is minimal ... The social chasm between Olivia and Sebastian is barely explored. The most convincing emotional thread concerns Olivia and Francis’s tenderness towards Noah, but other characters are under-developed ... Mordant humour abounds. Still, nothing cuts too deeply, and you quickly begin to notice that everyone talks in this mannered way ... The subject matter hums with wasted potential.
St Aubyn...is more skilful than most ... A novel rich in characters and perspectives ... St Aubyn’s talent is to tease his characters—sending up their middle-class foibles—while still extending tenderness to each of them ... As the story whips along and the various characters loop round and crash into one another, this serious engagement with each of them is what helps keep the whole enterprise afloat ... There’s real skill on display here, as there often is in a St Aubyn novel ... The book’s setting, especially London, is drawn with the same care ... Building towards a showdown that threatens to break its characters and their values. It doesn’t disappoint.
