Just Last Night

Another enjoyable read from McFarlane, mixing quirky characters, witty banter, and some seriously deep topics in a way I've never quite encountered before. It's as if P.G. Wodehouse decided to throw some PTSD awareness into the mix of his madcap comedies – and it works somehow.

The one qualm I have is that in both the books I have read so far, all the main characters are heavy drinkers. They drink when they are happy, they drink when they are sad. They drink to calm down and to pep themselves up, and just for the heck of it. If I had to reckon up the amount of time they spend being seriously intoxicated during the main action of the story and important conversations, I would estimate about 80%. Yet absolutely no one has a problem with that, not an inkling of a notion that it might be going too far or a form of self-medication that should be reconsidered.

Even though there are good messages about self-empowerment and authentic relationships, alongside these is the constant assumption: “We can't really have fun and live life to the fullest unless we are sozzled.” I find this a little weird. And sad. Alcohol is not to the human body as oil is to a car engine, something it needs in order to run happily and smoothly. It's a harmful toxin, however pleasurable its use may be, and should be treated with some caution. Call me a spoilsport if you like (Bertie Wooster certainly would), but in our day and age, it's just strange to promote drinking culture so one-sidedly without ANY awareness of the drawbacks.