A ripping good yarn about the father from hell, this book is now nearly 30 years old but the descriptions of the signs of a corrupt and decadent America still strike a chord. At times the characters suffer from an astonishing lack of introspection for the sake of a thrilling plotline (the mother in particular takes the expression, Love is Blind, to new depths) and in between the peak events in the story the writing is a little patchy until the plot picks up steam again. However, a strength of the book is that like members of his immediate family you are torn between sympathy for the man's derangement and gunning for his demise. I now wonder what the director did with the film version since there are a couple of places where the action could have ended with the Dad neatly done in and the audience none the wiser. But that of course would have meant missing the 'just desserts' meted out in the final section of the book. The descriptions of places and people in this book are vivid and no doubt realistic, as befits a travel writer of Theroux's reputation.