In the gritty streets of Coxthorpe, a forgotten English mill town where minarets pierce the skyline and old resentments simmer, a lonely warehouse worker named Adam stumbles into a cultural firestorm. The ancient Rush Bearing festival - a procession involving morris dancers, maidens, and a crusader knight - has been revived, sparking hope and igniting outrage across this deeply divided town.
Curious about the sources of the controversy, Adam launches an online video channel, The Haxton Review, to document the clash of identities and traditions it has laid bare. As he delves deeper, alliances fracture, secrets unravel, and the hidden contours of power become - briefly, terribly - visible.
Blending sharp social commentary and raw personal confession, Joshua Knapp's debut novel is a tense, timely thriller set against the soft totalitarianism of contemporary Britain.
In the gritty streets of Coxthorpe, a forgotten English mill town where minarets now spike the skyline and old English resentments bubble just beneath the surface, a lonely warehouse worker named Adam does something deceptively simple: he starts filming. The ancient Rush Bearing festival, a procession involving Morris dancers, maidens, and a crusader Knight, has been revived, igniting outrage across this deeply divided town. Curious about the sources of the controversy, Adam launches an online video channel, The Haxton Review, to document the clash of identities and traditions it has laid bare.
Joshua Knapp’s debut is a claustrophobic thriller set against the “soft totalitarianism” of contemporary Britain. I felt this was very much a man’s book. The writing has an unfiltered edge, full of drinking, swearing, and sexual directness that feels true to the lives depicted I particularly liked Adam’s relationships in the book: The family dynamic, the bonds of working men and the shifting alliances that form and fracture under pressure. One line that stayed with me comes during birthday drinks in London: “It’s hard to explain how a laugh can sound smug, isn’t it? But they manage it somehow.”
I especially liked how ambiguous Adam’s political leanings remain. You finish the novel still unable to pin them down. He is no activist, merely an everyman with a camera and a restless curiosity.
The book made me think about the collapse of the English church and, by extension, of Europe itself. I grew up in a village with traditional English practices, so with the revival of this old ecclesiastical festival, once tied to parish church life in a town that has changed so dramatically, brought the parallels home. The empty pews, the forgotten customs, and ancient rituals reduced to relics all felt like symptoms of a deeper unravelling of the western world.
The Haxton Review is disturbing but timely. It is the sort of book that leaves you thinking about the men you know, the village or town you grew up in, and the traditions worth fighting for.
This book might have been good and had some promise but of the nearly 200 pages I read it was mostly detailed descriptions of the main character's disgusting masturbation talking with old women on WhatsApp. If as I suspect it is relevant to the plot later on it doesn't matter - one or two scenes would have sufficed. I loathed this fat wanker so deeply before I gave up that I was hoping his Guardianista brother would refer him to Prevent, cancel the parade, and save us all the embarrassment.