The New Republic - Tapa dura

‘Shriver is an incisive social satirist with a clear grip on the ironies of our contemporary age.’
LA Times

Praise for So Much For That:

‘Wide-ranging, sometimes zany and unpredictable, this is a compelling read. And however many twists Shriver shoves in, you always believe her’
The Times

‘Many people will like Lionel Shriver's ninth novel – admirers of gripping and clever contemporary fiction, discerning critics and, if there is any justice, literary prize committees’
Guardian

‘Shriver proves she is not afraid of anything...’
Observer

‘It's a wonder that subject matter on the surface so bleak can be transformed into something so uplifting’
Daily Telegraph

‘Yes, a brilliantly funny cancer book! You can rely on Lionel Shriver to upend your expectations’
Daily Express

‘Required reading for all mortals’
Daily Mail

‘...witty, observant and beautifully controlled. British readers will close this excellent novel feeling grateful for the NHS’
Literary Review

‘...a visceral and deeply affecting story, a story about how illness affects people's relationships, and how their efforts to grapple with mortality reshape the arcs of their lives’
Michiko Kakutani, New York Times

A scalpel-sharp political satire from the Orange Prize winning writer of We Need to Talk about Kevin.

Ostracized as a kid, Edgar Kellogg has always yearned to be popular. A disgruntled corporate lawyer, he’s more than ready to leave his lucrative career for the excitement and uncertainty of journalism. When he’s offered the post of foreign correspondent in a Portuguese backwater that has sprouted a home-grown terrorist movement, Edgar recognizes the disappeared larger-than-life reporter he’s been sent to replace, Barrington Saddler, as exactly the outsize character he longs to emulate. Infuriatingly, all his fellow journalists cannot stop talking about their beloved “Bear,” who is no longer lighting up their work lives.

Yet all is not as it appears. Os Soldados Ousados De Barba - “The Daring Soldiers of Barba”- have been blowing up the rest of the world for years in order to win independence for a province so dismal, backward and windblown that you couldn’t give the rat hole away. So why, with Barrington vanished, do terrorist incidents claimed by the “SOB” suddenly dry up?

A droll, playful novel, The New Republic addresses weighty issues like terrorism with the deft, tongue-in-cheek touch that is vintage Shriver. It also presses the more intimate question: What makes particular people so magnetic, while the rest of us inspire a shrug? What’s their secret? And in the end, who has the better life – the admired, or the admirer?