I think we can all agree: quick marriages between people who barely know one another are not a good idea. But they do make quite fun novels, as it turns out. That’s true at least for Cleopatra and Frankenstein, a positively inhalable debut by Coco Mellors about the fallout of a snap marriage between an older man and a younger woman.
Frank and Cleo are at a trendy New Year’s Eve party in New York when they meet by chance in a lift. He’s a fortysomething ad agency boss who drinks more than he should, weathering the disappointment of giving up his creative dreams to make money. She’s a beautiful British artist twenty years his junior, with long blonde hair and a visa that’s about to expire. Witty repartee and frantic snogging out of the way, they marry a few months later. Their wedding is peopled by the book’s supporting cast, who include Quentin, Cleo’s gender-confused trustafarian pal who secretly thinks they’re soulmates; Zoe, Frank’s financially dependent baby sister; and Anders, Frank’s ‘will shag any woman who walks’ best mate.
