In Tree’s thriller set in late-1970s London, a college student finds himself swept up in a radical group’s violent plans.

The tale’s unnamed narrator is a 19-year-old who manages to get accepted into a venerable academic institution, Wolverton College at Wellingford University, despite his modest background and, by his own account, being “bereft of oomph.” But he’s full of youthful discontent. He joins the Real Workers’ Party, reads widely in Marxist literature, and believes, however inarticulately, that society is fundamentally corrupt: “All I’ve seen so far is that the system is rigged, rigged from top to bottom, you’re inserted into it at one level or another and once you’re in you have to do your best with your allotted lot.” Meanwhile, London is roiled by terrorist bombings; a group called The Vanguard claims responsibility but doesn’t seem to have any cause to push. The protagonist’s girlfriend, Beth, surmises that they’re a “bunch of nutters.” An intimidating MI5 agent, James Delaney, compels him to try to make contact with them, but he’s kidnapped in the process by Vanguard operatives. Their leader turns out to be Ralph Finns, an old school friend who hails from a wealthy family—a plot twist that readers may see coming. Otherwise, though, this is a stunningly unpredictable work; for one thing, it turns out that The Vanguard isn’t a political group at all. They’re an assemblage of people seeking to take down those who have victimized them in the past. This is an offbeat book that effectively combines humorous moments with disturbingly dark content, including descriptions of sexual abuse that are very difficult to read. But it’s also a gripping work that takes on the hypocrisy of the society in which the protagonist lives—one that confirms his intuitions, if not his Marxist leanings.

An engagingly original novel that’s by turns clever and discomfiting.

In this novel, people in a near-future world clash with a hateful right-wing group operating in Europe.

Jim, a nearly 50-year-old Londoner, first hears of the Nous Sommes La France while enjoying his retirement on a cruise ship. NSLF is a xenophobic organization that’s singled out the Mashubians, immigrants that hail from Ukraine and Belarus. Jim sees the extent of NSLF’s hostility in the French town of Le Rayol when an anti-immigrant demonstration turns violent. Meanwhile, travel journalist Jean-Pierre, whom Jim meets on the cruise, covers the Mashubian story for a right-leaning newspaper. It’s just a job, as his political beliefs are the antithesis of the publication’s. He makes the dangerous choice to infiltrate the NSLF, certain it’s up to something even more sinister than opposing immigration. The journalist winds up in Jim’s hometown, where hate-fueled We Are England rallies are soon on the rise. Demands of repatriation in France, Britain, and elsewhere spur riots as well as targeted assaults. Jean-Pierre struggles to unravel the two groups’ mysteries, including WAE’s enigmatic, never-seen founder. Tree deftly pairs humor with this novel’s hard-hitting commentary. A public speech on climate change, for example, blames some of the carbon dioxide emissions on “farting cows.” But characters against immigration are undeniably loathsome racists whose despondent message is akin to real-life groups around the world. Much of Jim’s first-person narration as well as Jean-Pierre’s corresponding letters to his love, Helen, teems with clear-eyed political discourse and rhetoric. The author also delivers an abundance of vivid passages, like this one about Jim’s early morning walk in France: “The small-hours light was mucky as dishwater, and the remnants of the night were on the narrow streets of the old town.” As the engaging story unfolds, a few surprises pop up, from something a scientist devises for the WAE and NSLF to a startling revelation involving the Mashubians.

A diverting, intelligent fusion of black comedy and political thriller.

A history-spanning novel chronicles the life of a disturbed British man with a sordid familial past.

Prolific European author Tree’s tale begins in the 1930s as young Malcolm Lowry is being hurriedly sent abroad from Liverpool aboard a ship based on orders from his father, cotton broker A.O. Lowry. The directives are being carried out by A.O.’s accountant, Mr. Patrick. Malcolm has been an alcoholic since his teen years, exhibiting violent tendencies against himself and his relatives. Fearing for his family’s safety, A.O. ships his son off to far-flung points throughout Europe, America, Mexico, and Canada with instructions for Mr. Patrick to send a monthly stipend and a brief correspondence to Malcolm. This missive exchange evolves into a regular conversation between the two as they trade opinions and perspectives. But it also slowly reveals the depths of Malcolm’s mental illness and the extremes of his addiction. Fast-forward decades: Mr. Patrick’s grandson, a feisty, increasingly shifty lad, is apprehended by police in a London park with a satchel of explosives and a fistful of paper. He is also carrying 10 letters exchanged between Malcolm, who would become a notable English novelist and poet, and Mr. Patrick. Through a masterfully clever construction, the plot incrementally reveals the nefarious motivations behind the grandson’s dangerous park journey. Police and psychiatric interrogations ensue as the letters are read and the intercourse between Malcolm, the self-described “perishing disappointment who has betrayed the trust placed in me by my family,” and Mr. Patrick charts the traveler’s trips across Europe, a spontaneous marriage, and a relocation to New York City and beyond. Tree’s narrative gains momentum as the personality of the mentally unstable would-be bomber unfolds as the letters are read. The author skillfully infuses his villain with deadly obsessions: pornography, the atrocities of World War II, and horrific fantasies of rape and serial murder. Inspired by actual events (Tree’s grandfather and Malcolm Lowry had actually exchanged correspondence), the author conjures graphic images from the extremist’s grisly imagination that aren’t for the faint of heart. Readers able to stomach the man’s psychotic killing fantasies will discover a story richly embedded with plot twists and, as evidenced in Tree’s previous novel, Snug (2013), crystal-clear, if unsettling, characterizations.

A riveting, vividly realized character study of obsession, addiction, and psychosis.

Mysterious visitors to an isolated British seaside resort bring on a backlash of violence.

Tree (Barcelona, Catalonia: A View from the Inside, 2011, etc.) has created a witty, frightening book lancing British arrogance, racism and smugness. Told in the voices of several characters, including the racist, anti-Semitic Dr. Whitebone; his 14-year-old daughter, Lucy; and her horny 12-year-old friend, whom she calls the Boy Who Shall Be Nameless, or BWSBN, the novel recounts a series of strange events and the muddled, misguided and violent reactions they precipitate. On vacation in Coldwater Bay on the Isle of Wight, Dr. Whitebone, his family and young guests soon find entrance to and egress from the village blocked and the phone lines cut. The doctor enlists the help of a local police officer and singles out the village’s lone black resident and a family of rich Arabs for secret torture. Eventually, a group of Africans emerges from the village’s sea caves to explain how and why they’ve sealed off Coldwater Bay. They’re a kind of expeditionary force responding to centuries of European colonization and brutalization of their continent. They’ve come in peace and make the village a kind of Club Med. Trying to be a hero to Lucy, however, the BWSBN escapes and alerts the authorities, then rides along in a helicopter as British jet fighters secretly bomb the Africans as they’re peacefully leaving for France in a trawler. Years later, more sordid details emerge. BWSBN, now 21, alcoholic and impotent, runs into Lucy in London and gets the full scoop: the torture and death of the black man, the beating death of the rich Arab patriarch—both innocent—and the trial and acquittal of Dr. Whitebone for the black man’s death. BWSBN is horrified, but the one-time love of his life has smugly decided, like her compatriots in a broader context, that it’s all for the best: “They’re different from us….They had no business being here.” Though Tree moved from England to Spain and began writing in Catalan after suffering from writer’s block in his native tongue, this novel proves his facility with English. His prose sparkles with razor’s-edge wit reminiscent of the great British satirists, though in a gentler way and with a core of disillusion and dismay.

A finely written, disturbingly pointed indictment of British colonialism and racism and that fester in an insular smugness “where life is indeed an island…bristling with complacency.”