"...like a masterful broom, his new book had scattered the dust long settled on the subject of identity, and swept it into exciting new piles."
— Edward St. Aubyn
I've been reading The Patrick Melrose novels. They may sound fancy and English but they are also gritty and bleak, heartbreaking and funny. In addition to naffs, tossers, and toffs (I'm never sure what these words mean), the narrator talks about consciousness quite a bit, and this line jumped out at me they way things do when you feel they resemble something about you. This is just what my work is doing!