![]() ![]() Upon reading The Rats for the first time since my balls dropped, I was delighted to discover that Young Herbert’s feelings about the British establishment were a touch less conflicted. Older Herbert loathed the British class system but adored the Queen and Mrs Thatcher and so produced a novel in which the Queen and Mrs Thatch were trapped in a low-key and largely ineffectual administrative tug-of-war with the wing of the British establishment that was protecting paedophiles and nurturing the psychic talents of Hitler’s secret Down syndrome lovechild. I’ve written about James Herbert before and was amused not only by the pervasive horniness of his writing but also by his somewhat conflicted set of attitudes towards the British establishment. This book is so savage that it opens with a scene in which a baby gets eaten alive by rats and then moves on to a scene in which a woman tries to burn down a church in retaliation for God killing her big-dick Irish boyfriend. ![]()
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