I hadn’t read anything else by Coe though I’d been meaning to and found this interesting. The plot concerns the mysterious death of Christopher, a political blogger critical of the far right of the Conservatives.. A shadowy right-wing thinktank is involved and there’s flashbacks to his time at Cambridge when he knew some of its members. I can’t give away too much of the plot but there’s an odd elderly detective and a pair of young women trying to investigate his death.
I found some of it very funny particularly at the start but the memoir section by one of the characters I thought was a bit long. Structurally it’s interesting though. There’s some very good satire of the absurdities of the Tories and their policies especially the brief disastrous Truss premiership. Thanks to the publisher Penguin and Netgalley for an ARC in return for an honest review.

Jonathan Coe is my favourite contemporary British novelist. I love how his state of the nation novels go beyond satire and draw out the human costs of political actions. His characters are very well drawn - we care what happens to them and we share in their tragedies and disappointments.
‘The Proof of My Innocence’ focuses on those surreal few weeks in 2022 when Liz Truss crashed the economy. It incorporates a cosy crime mystery, a college memoir and a work of autofiction. There’s shadowy right wing conspiracies at play that can be traced back to Cambridge in the 1980s and popular conservative forces at work that seem willing to resort to murder to protect their interests. Such things may have sounded far fetched a few years ago, but not in this conspiracy obsessed age. It’s ambitious and multi layered but very readable. The involvement of an obscure 80s novelist in the plot even allows for some authorial self reflection.

Jonathan Coe tackles a number of targets both big and small, in this, his fifteenth novel.
Amongst the small targets are: 1) the irritating nature of the British Transport Police's oft-repeated "See it. Say it. Sorted' slogan. 2) Men who unnecessarily insist on pressing the button to activate the lift doors in Heathrow Terminal 5, even though the doors always open and close without any human assistance anyway. 3) The current trend for cosy crime novels with titles like Death in a Thatched Cottage, The Beach Hut Murders and The Flapjack Poisonings.
Coe even finds time to satirise Piers Capon author of the novel, 'Lilliput Rising,' a novel celebrated as "destined to become a future classic" on its publication in 1993, but now, like its author completely forgotten. In reality, of course, neither Capon or the book ever existed. Coe's own breakthrough novel, What A Carve Up! was published to widespread acclaim around that time though. I can't work out the relationship between the names, 'Piers Capon' and 'Jonathan Coe' is (any ideas, anyone?) But it seems clear, Coe is having a little dig at himself.
If so, he shouldn't be worried. While it is true neither Coe or What A Carve Up! are exactly household names today (whatever that means), he and his output are hardly forgotten, not least because he keeps producing books and remains one of the sharpest writers of political fiction around. And, more to the point, The Proof of My Innocence is one of his better ones.
It begins as the story of Phyl, a recent graduate reduced to living at home with her nice but stifling middle-aged parents while working long hours for the Japanese fast food chain, Hey! Teriyaki (yo - you see?) and watching endless episodes of Friends, a show already old enough to be set in a nostalgic mobile phone free world which she as a twenty-something can no longer remember. The year is 2022 and this is the time of the short and disastrous premiership of Liz Truss. The effects of Truss's brief and calamitous spell in Downing Street are still being felt. If nothing else, the period helps explain why today there are only about a third as many Conservative MPs today as there were two months ago.
The book then changes into a sort of cosy murder mystery of the sort Phyl is slightly cynically considering writing herself before becoming the sort of dark academic novel she actually prefers to read.
Along the way we are introduced to food-loving police women, dark shadowy right-wing societies, rumours of witchcraft and even one or two brief encounters with characters from What A Carve Up! although this is in no sense a sequel or even a spin-off.
In short, it's lots of fun.

I do love Coe’s work but I didn’t enjoy this one as much as usual. Though the setting was exquisite, Phyl was pure character study and the book was a good read.

It’s not possible to recommend this book to any one type of reader. There isn’t anyone that wouldn’t enjoy a great deal of this book.

There’s always a thread of state-of-the-nation running through Jonathan Coe’s fiction, sometimes more overt than others. This one opens in early September 2022 as Phyl Maidstone, freshly graduated and back in the family home, contemplates what to do with her future, distracted by notifications about the newly elected Conservative Party leader and slightly resentful at the prospect of an old family friend dropping in on his way to the TrueCon conference. Christopher’s a long-term critic of the increasingly extreme antics of some members of the Party. He and Joanna were at Cambridge, allies against the braying likes of Roger Wagstaff, now a TrueCon leading light. News of Christopher’s sudden, violent death shakes the Maidstones. It’s through writing that Phyl tries to make sense of it, first by adopting Britain’s favourite cosy crime genre, then exploring dark academia before turning her hand to autofiction. The drama of Liz Truss’ premiership plays out in the background, survived by the lettuce livestreamed by a tabloid alongside her picture.
Coe frames Phyl’s three attempts to write the story of Christopher’s death with a lengthy prologue setting the scene and a catch-up epilogue set in 2024. It’s a complicated structure which didn’t entirely work for me but the plotting is pleasingly intricate with some enjoyable lightbulb moments. He picks up familiar themes from his previous novels – entitlement, privilege, a particularly British nostalgia – none of which have served the country well, particularly over the last decade and a half. No prizes for subtlety but then I wouldn’t expect that from Coe’s brand of slapstick political satire. Fun is also poked at the literary world, in awe, as it often is, of a handful of names. Coe’s trademark filmic references run through the novel together with some clever word play. Not my favourite novel by him but enjoyably entertaining in a very British way.

Set amongst a Cotswold's backdrop, a country house hewn from oolitic limestone, exuding charm in honey coloured hues, becomes the scene for a murder most foul. Whilst the country pile is slipping in to noble rot, rather like the Sauternes dessert wine it serves, there are plans to secure funding to have it transformed from a crumbling hotel in to a stately home. Will the discovery of an old slave ship painting scupper that? Yes, something that the unwitting Christopher Swann brought to light whilst tagging along with a small group who were being shown around Weatherby Hall (now hosting a TrueCon conference). I say unwitting because the poor chap ended up dead, but was this about the painting or maybe one of a number of other possibilities?
I am afraid that the serenity of the Hall was drowned out by the grinding of political axes by the author, The murder mystery had a touch of the Miss Marple and the hunt for the murderer saved the day by going continental. However, it was a novel within a novel set in the old stomping ground of the late Sir Gerald Nabarro MP. It mentions Broadway and even Fish Hill as an automotive way to force someone to their death. Why it didn't go the whole hog and introduce Broadway Tower and Snowshill I don't know.
This novel is more for those interested in the allies and enemies forged at university and how this impacts future events, especially political ones.

I admire Jonathan Coe’s writing and have read several of his novels. This is the first one I have not really enjoyed.

It varies between different forms of writing. I enjoyed the first part but then it went into ‘cosy murder mystery’ format and I liked this less. It was tedious in parts. The part written as a memoir was better and especially about student life at Cambridge.

I liked Phyl the main recurring character. Less well drawn was Rash, a shame as they finish the story together.

The story also self references at the end. Previously aposiopesis has been explained as breaking off the story in the middle of a sentence. In this case the sentence is finished but the novel is left hanging at the end.

I am sure I will read and enjoy Coe in the future. This one just disappointing.

I read a proof copy provided by NetGalley and the publisher.