A Better Life by Lionel Shriver

Anyone who’s read We Need to Talk About Kevin knows exactly why I’d drop everything for a new novel from Lionel Shriver, the reigning Queen of Taboo, especially when it comes to family dysfunction and difficult masculinity. Nobody does bedrooms, browser histories and aimless male resentment quite like her.

This time the taboo is immigration, told through the eyes of unemployed 26-year-old college graduate Nico, who lives rent-free in the basement of his mother Gloria’s crumbling New York mansion, which she won in her divorce.

To help pay the bills, appease her left-wing conscience and irritate her ex-husband, Gloria signs up to a New York City’s “Big Apple, Big Hearts” program which pays homeowners to accommodate migrants.

The downside for Nico? He loses his man-cave/basement, where he spends most of his time drinking beer and watching anti-immigration videos on YouTube. His politics could not be more different to his mother’s.

Things become considerably more complicated when Martine, a 28 year old migrant from Honduras, arrives at their door with a booming voice and two pink roller bags. Over the months that follow, everyone’s assumptions and prejudices are tested in ways that are funny, uncomfortable and, at times, surprisingly moving.

Shriver’s politically unfiltered writing is guaranteed to make plenty of readers squirm, but what begins as a novel about immigration gradually reveals itself to be about something much bigger – privilege, identity, family and primal instincts. I loved the evolving relationship between Nico and his mother, and the completely over-the-top but utterly satisfying ending.

So, if you prefer your fiction safe, I’d probably avoid Lionel Shriver altogether. But if you’re ready to tackle taboos with a side of dark humour, grab a copy of A Better Life and clear your weekend because once you start, you won’t stop.

And that’s my two cents’ worth.