Talent issue - the novelist: Joe Stretch

Boyd Tonkin
Saturday 29 December 2007 01:00 GMT
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

Like many sulphurous satirists before him, Manchester musician-turned-novelist Joe Stretch skewers the present and the recent past by imagining a grotesque future.

Born in 1982, Stretch studied politics at Manchester University, and joined the eclectic electro-pop quartet Performance as vocalist and lyricist. He's still attached to the university as a participant in the creative-writing programme headed by Martin Amis. And Amis, of all people, should appreciate the incendiary blast of sensuality and savagery that hisses off the pages of Stretch's debut novel, Friction (published by Vintage on 4 March).

In fact, the twisted and dystopian sexuality of Michel Houellebecq's novels may strike readers of Friction as a more direct influence than Amis. Here, Houellebecq does Manchester: the buzzing bars of Castlefield, Withington and the Northern Quarter become killing-grounds of love and hope as Stretch's pleasure-hunting, joy-deprived quintet of characters flee from the pain of being human, and aspire to the condition of feeling-free sex-machines.

Stretch's science-fiction frame adds a frisson of horror to this tale, but the heart of Friction lies in its not-too-exaggerated vision of a culture of sensation-hungry escapism. Raw, wild, aflame with ideas, Friction will bring a kill-or-cure medicinal shock to our post-boom hangover.

Portrait by Ged Murray

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in