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Michael Kimmel summerizes the basic plot of guy lit novels in his article "Guy Lit -Whatever" as thus:
I may be 30, but I act 15. I am adrift in New York. I'm too clever by half for my own good. I live on puns and snide, sarcastic asides. I don't look too deeply into myself or anyone else — everyone else is boring or a phony anyway. I may be a New Yorker, but I am not in therapy. I have a boring job, for which I am overeducated and underqualified, but I lack the ambition to commit to a serious career. (Usually I have family money.) I hang out with my equally disconnected friends in many of the city's bars. I drink a lot, take recreational drugs, don't care about much except being clever. I recently broke up with my girlfriend, and while I am eager to have sex, which I do often given the zillions of available women in New York, the sex is not especially fulfilling, and emotions rarely enter the picture. I am deeply shallow. And I know it.
Oh, and then something happens. I go on a journey, get inside the media machinery, sort-of fall for a new girl. Or 9/11 happens, but that doesn't really affect me much either. And though I might now mouth some bland platitudes about change, anyone can see that I'm still the same guy I was before. Only different. But not really.
Replacing New York city with an English seaside town, that is a pretty apt description of Eight Minutes Idle, except it is more depressing than light-hearted. The novel is told through the first-person narrative of a call centre employee Dan, who is stuck in a dead boring job but too lazy to try to move on or up. He shares a tiny room with his father until his father is hospitalized, and he eventually moves secretly into his office in order to save money. The book's short description on the back cover makes it seems like the whole novel is about his adventure in trying to live in the office, but it is actually a pretty small part of the novel. The story mainly consists of the male protagonist's observations about his co-workers and the dynamic of a British office. It is also about the art of wasting time. Its title "Eight Minutes Idle" has a double meaning, referring to the time it takes for a person's body to shut down before falling asleep and the time of waiting to take a call in the call centre. Dan's life is basically one of idleness; he does everything just enough to kill time and get by.
Like the other lad lit anti-heroes, Dan is unambitious, emotionally unavailable and inclined to fantasize about his female co-workers. However, he is also hiding a violent past and constantly worried that his co-workers would find out that he is not a normal person or a "good bloke." That's about as deep as the character goes though. What makes Eight Minutes Idle a frustrating book is that the main character is, well, a big baby. Yes, he had a rough childhood. Yes, his past relationship with a woman was pretty fucked up. But stop whining and grow up already! Not that he talks about his feelings that much. Guys don't do that apparently, so instead, we get kinky sex scenes and sexual fantasies. It is also hard to like Dan as he is basically a manipulative liar who uses those around him to keep himself afloat in his no-responsibility lifestyle. How can one sympathizes with a character who wishes to be reincarnated as a mud puppy in his next life? (apparently mud puppies don't grow up or something). While the observations about the office life are interesting to read and Thorne does have a clear writing style that grips you, the story is ultimately unsatisfying. The ending feels rushed and abrupt, and one really wonders why this book has been written in the first place. To kill time, maybe?
4/10
