I couldn't get on with the book, was very confused by the plot in the first chapters . I have now read that this is book number 2 and it helps to have read the first one. Nevertheless I perservered for a while with the book. The plot started to make more sense, but it was such a chore to read that I gave up. Sorry not for me. DNF 55%
Thanks to Net Galley for the ARC

This is a sequel to 'Double Blind' and the middle book of a planned trilogy. Although it makes sense as a stand-alone, the characters (or most of them) are introduced in 'Double Blind' and so it makes sense to read that first.

Olivia and Francis now have a son, Noah. Olivia, the adopted daughter of therapist Martin, does not realise that he has been treating a schizophrenic patient, Sebastian, who is her biological twin. Much of this novel revolves around Martin's efforts to balance his roles as a therapist and a father, and he often struggles to do so successfully. For life is messy, and when it emerges that Sebastian is Olivia's twin, it means the characters in the novel have to try to make decisions around Sebastian's involvement in the family, which is easier for some than others.

I recently went to see Edward St. Aubyn talk at the Southbank and it was a privilege to hear him talk about his work while embarking on his new novel. This is an intelligent, thought-provoking work and I enjoyed it greatly. Perfect for book groups or book lovers, but do read the first novel first if you have the opportunity. I received a copy of this book from NetGalley for review.

A sequel to ’Double Blind’, this picks up the narrative five years later. Sebastian has recently experienced a breakdown and is schizophrenic. He is undergoing analysis with Dr Carr to deal with his abandonment by his mother. An edgy and humorous novel about the human condition.

Very well written but at times I felt disjointed and the story was hard to engage with.
The characters descriptions were excellent but hugely complicated with their connections and relationships, both professionally and privately. At times I became slightly confused

Due to the mesmerising effect of the Patrick Melrose novels, I was looking forward to this. In many ways, it didn't disappoint, with similar characters and setting. St Aubyn's previous works are so monumental, I don't think any more of his work will match - and that's ok. Well worth reading and may there be many more

This was an elegant, sharply written novel exploring identity, fate, and tangled relationships. At its centre are Sebastian, a troubled patient searching for clarity; Martin, a therapist entangled in the delicate balance between professional duty and human connection; and his daughter Olivia, a sharp and complex figure navigating personal upheaval. It’s a book full of psychological depth and quiet observations.

While the writing is undeniably well done, something about it didn’t fully land for me. The book is thoughtful and intellectually engaging, but at times the writing style seemed to come at the cost of emotional connection. It’s more of an observation than an experience—interesting, but not entirely gripping.

A solid read, just not one that left a lasting impact for me!

I enjoyed this novel which follows Sebastian who is in therapy after a nervous breakdown, his therapist Martin who has his own challenges and his adopted daughter Olivia . throughout the novel the characters meet when their lives collide as they live parallel lives which occasionally intersect.
Having trained in psychiatry at Medical school school I recognised the conversation being described in the first section . It rang very true for somebody with a psychosis it left me as reader feeling slightly mad myself, which is the paradox of the situation

There’s some naturalistic sections in this novel that contrast markedly with the almost sci-fi elements including the development of virtual reality and brain scanning and transcranial stimulation. Personally, I felt that these sections were not as strong as the more naturalistic sections
Since reading the novel, I’ve become aware that this is the second in a series of books written about the same characters. The first novel being Double Blind .
The author uses great skill to describe individual people’s characteristics well and they all feel like three dimensional people.
The offer has a clear easily read writing style. The novel is an enjoyable read. I suspect there are some elements of this book that I didn’t fully understand for example it appears to be a finest for a political fiction novel (the Orwell prize 2025.) fully understand this so I may have missed something in the reading.


I read a copy of the novel on Netgalley UK in return for an unbiased review.
The book was published in the UK on the 1st of May 2025 by Random House UK, vintage This review will appear on NetGalley UK, Goodreads, Storyville, and my book blog bionicSarahS books.wordpress.com also appear on Amazon UK and Waterstones.

The Orwell Prize finalist 2025 for political fiction, Parallel Lines is the second instalment of this yet-unnamed and impressive series by Edward St. Aubyn. From the disjointed narrative of Sebastian's psyche to the Freudian-inspired characters orbiting him, this dense novel flaunts psychoanalysis, environmentalism, genetics, identity, and family ties in a dizzying narrative sprinkled with satire, science, and drama.

Parallel Lines was my second St. Aubyn book (thank you, fellow readers, for alerting me that Double Blind is the first in the series, a detail not noticeable). Although it took me some time to sink into the story, rarely have I come across such an intellectually stimulating narrative. The novel opens with Sebastian’s inner thoughts, narrated in the third person. This is noteworthy, as the third-person narration from other characters uses a different, more neutral tone. Aubyn’s choice of a distinct voice for Sebastian’s narrative is compelling, as it draws the reader into his fractured, inquisitive and easily stimulated mind.

Sebastian is a schizophrenic individual, undergoing analysis with Dr. Carr, who also happens to be Olivia’s father. Olivia, Sebastian’s twin sister, is producing a podcast on natural disasters. They don’t know each other. There’s also Noah, Olivia’s genius son with Francis, an accomplished scientist and entrepreneur. Helio is Sebastian’s nurse, his friend, and also a light-painting artist. There are many other characters, each fully developed and realised, not all likable, but human and real nonetheless. Sometimes I had to retrace who was who and from where, but after a while, the dialogues and parallel storylines began to feel organic and coherent. A few notes about the characters might help tracking them.

The plot itself is relatively simple: two adult twins, separated in childhood, are reconnected by chance through unexpected individuals and circumstances. However simplistic the plot may seem, Aubyn’s genius lies not in what happens, but in how it happens. His writing layered with psychological and emotional intricacies, and fully realised, self-absorbed, deeply flawed, and strangely likeable characters. I enjoyed immensely the process of dissecting their behaviours, motivations, and contradictions. Aubyn blends philosophy, biology, and religion into the narrative seamlessly through rich conversations, subtle observations, always with intention, often using irony and rhetorical narrative to persuade, question, and provoke the reader. His observational and informative style works beautifully with the novel’s concern in science, psychoanalysis, class, family, identity, and belonging. There are moments of poignant reflection that are cathartic and hopeful, peppered with tension and irony.

There are occasional references to Double Blind, and here’s my thoughts on the series' structure: (view spoiler)

Although nominated for the Orwell Prize, I found the political aspect subtle. These characters are privileged, educated, and wealthy. Their problems unfold in sparkling isolation, without the burdens of common folk. Science and psychoanalysis lovers will devour this book, full of interesting information and argumentation. At the end of the novel, the minutiae of correlations the reader can make, along with their perceptions and judgements on the characters, makes Parallel Lines a lush and rewarding reading experience. Political satire and commentaries are sprinkled throughout the story. Besides, it is a touching and poignant story that shies away from unnecessary drama and gives room to deep, meaningful understanding between siblings, parents, and children.

This is a book best enjoyed by those who enjoy character-driven stories, slow-burning plots, and the pleasure of connecting narrative dots. Science and psychoanalysis lovers will especially appreciate the wealth of detail, argument, and intellectual layering. Parallel Lines is not for everyone. But if you’re someone who enjoys dissecting characters, untangling subtle threads, and being swept up in clever prose, this book is absolutely for you.

Recommended.

Rating: 4.0/5

Disclaimer: I received an Advance Reader Copy (ARC) of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. All thoughts and opinions expressed are my own.

I was excited to read Parallel Lines, as a huge fan of St Aubyn's earlier books, but this wasn't for me. I found the diversions into treatises that didn't seem connected to the plot to be quite tedious, and while probably interesting in another setting, they bogged down the book for me. I liked Sebastian and Lucy, particularly the former's chaotic internal voice, but I found most of the dialogue didn't clearly dileanate the characters, so they mainly sounded like Hampstead intellectuals across the novel. St Aubyn is obviously a skilled writer, this one just wasn't for me.

I think that like most people I was first introduced to St Aubyn through the Patrick Melrose novels and then this is the first of his books outside that series that I have read.

It’s a departure in the more straightforward narrative style of the Melrose series but after more than 30 years since the novels were first published this is perhaps only fair. Parallel Lines is apparently a sequel to Double Blind but as I’ve never read it I haven’t much sense of how deeply they’re connected. Parallel Lines is most definitely a novel where the philosophy holds importance over the plot so I think you have to go in prepared to work hard when reading this novel. I have to be honest and admit that at times I was a little lost, though that may be through my ignorance rather than a lack of skill on the author’s part!

Parallel Lines focuses mainly on Sebastian and Liv at the centre of a web in which the other characters connect and fly across from. In short Sebastian has schizophrenia and discovers that his therapist is his biological sister Liv’s adoptive father and the novel tendrils out from these two. It’s a novel about seeking connection not just with one another but with the world at large and so topics swing from the environment through to science and medicine and the dinosaurs. It’s perhaps easiest understood as an extinction novel and about capturing a moment at the end of the world. Psychotherapy also comes under discussion and it can at times feel more like a thinly veiled treatise from the author as each character speaks in philosophical profundities.

I’m still not sure how I feel about the novel and it’s perhaps one to read again in a few years and reserve judgement until then. But I did like it for being more about the author reaching towards something and taking the reader along rather than purporting a concrete world view from a place of authorial omnipotence.

I really tried with this book, seduced by the promise of clever word play and literary merit. However I found it really hard work with very little engagement or coherence. It might have helped to have read St Aubyn's earlier book, Double Blind, as there was little background information or context for the characters, but that may have just doubled the pain. It is obviously a highly regarded literary work by many who have already reviewed it, but I am afraid it is not for me.

This is a darkly comical novel about madness, psychiatry and coincidence, shooting off in so many directions it is sometimes hard to keep track – but it is well worth the effort.

At the start of the book, we encounter Sebastian in the midst of a psychotic episode. He has the life history to justify any form of escape!

His therapist, Martin is working with him relatively successfully but it turns out that his adopted daughter, Olivia is actually Sebastian’s long lost twin. That makes continuing to work with Sebastian difficult!

There’s a range of other characters. Lucy who is being treated for a brain tumour, her wild partner Hunter who finds solace in chatting to an Italian monk named Guido, and Francis who is Olivia’s partner.

The book is a sequel to Double Blind and also a cheerful resolution of part of that book’s story. While funny about, and critical of, many aspects of psychiatry and psychoanalysis it describes the possibility of escaping from a terrible past to a place where you can survive as a human being and, in the end, everybody is enriched by the events.

It’s a superb novel, beautifully written and insightful. It’s well worth reading!

**HIGHLY RECOMMEND READING "DOUBLE BLIND" FIRST**

Parallel Lines is the second in what looks to be the next series of books by Edward St Aubyn. Having read the Patrick Melrose novels, I was keen to pick up a new one from Aubyn. I had read a couple PM novels out of synch, so I was expecting I could do the same here too. How wrong I was!

We are immediately introduced to Sebastian and his troubled mental health. The first few pages are a challenge to read, but they certainly reflect his state of mind. The rest of the story revolves around those he is connected to, including Olivia (his "Bio Sis"), his psychotherapist Dr Carr (also Olivia's adopted dad) and a host of others connected to them.

As I have highlighted above, you really need to read the first book in series as no background is provided on these characters, which is quite discombobulating. For a book seemingly so character driven (there's not much of a plot), some back story would have helped, as I kept forgetting who was who and how they related to each other. Some characters don't seem to add much to the (thin) plot, so I assume it is backgrounding for future books (PL is obviously part of an ongoing series, as evidenced by the massive signposting at book's end).

As well as the lack of plot and character back stories, the book seemed far too clever for its own good at times, with Aubyn seemingly wanting to show off what he knows on various esoteric topics. Some lines of dialogue seem somewhat unbelievable. Do the "chattering classes" really talk like that during a family dinner?

All of this meant I nearly stopped reading about four times in the first half of the book. It all seemed like such a slog with nothing much of note really happening. However, it did pick up for me as the book trudged on. I was drawn to Sebastian the most and wanted to see how his character developed. My favourite parts of the story were the gallery show and when Olivia invites Seb to the park and her home (into her life, basically), both towards the end of the book. This provided enough intrigue and affection (for Seb) that I would probably read the next book in series - and likely go back to read the first one!

There were so many diverse characters to discover in this story, but eventually they came together in the end. There was a lot of information about ecological problems and attempts to solve them. Sebastian's struggles with his mental health were harrowing initially, but as his health improved he became quite a character. The story of separated twins is the basis of the story and supports the theory of nature over nurture.

If you were to describe the North London Literary Novel in its most parodic form it might look a little like this. The Parallel Lines are perhaps the two branches of the Northern Line, but more likely the branches of a family centring initially on Olivia, currently editing a Radio 4 series on likely apocalypses; and her husband Francis, working for an environmental NGO. Olivia’s best friend Lucy, recovering from a brain tumour, is in a relationship with tech billionaire Hunter, whose chief obsession is the land art of James Turrrell. I did say its set up was parodic.

Into all this carefully maintained Hampsteadness comes Sebastian, being re-integrated into the community after the latest in a psychotic episode. The central plot point is Sebastiain’s meeting with his ‘Bio Mum’ and the fact that Olivia adopted by Sebastian’s psychiatrist, is Sebastian’s biological sister.

Cue the falling apart of said Hampsteaness in a torrent of ethical dilemmas and family rows, all of which come to a head at an opening night of a new James Turrell exhibition. Still with me? Then this is a terrific read, and a sequel to the 2021 Double Blind. This I was unaware of, and I should say after a vertiginous opening where you are dumped into the world of Olivia, Sebastian and Lucy with very little to hold onto, this opens out into an entirely successful standalone read.

It’s central theme is the possibility - the probability even - of healing through therapeutic conversation, whether Sebastian’s sessions with Martin, Hunter’s communion with his private priest, or Olivia’s initial chats with the brother she never knew she had. Despite its setting, seemingly aloof, there’s a warmth and compassion at the heart of this novel that moves beyond its predominant tone of tremendously clever conversation. Shakespeare is clearly a touchstone for St Aubyn, and though there is no cross-dressing here for Olivia and Sebastian there’s a cast of characters driven by the need to express themselves through language.. to communicate everything they can right now.

Honestly I was quite excited by this book as it was the first book that a publishing company asked me to read as I had left a favourable review for another novel that was similar.
The synopsis sounded good, the first 10% of the book was good. Sebastian is a brilliant character and so well developed and wonderfully written, he made me laugh reading it.
Which made it surprising that the other characters were a bit bland, there wasn’t really any personality there, it was a bit more like one long droning on conversation amongst elitists that even the reader was outside of the group. I found it very difficult to engage with and unfortunately couldn’t finish the book.
The author is a talent writer that is undeniable and the book is thoroughly researched. However unfortunately it just wasn’t my cup of tea.
Thank you to the author and publisher for the ARC for my honest review.

NO SPOILERS:

The opening chapter of Edward St Aubyn’s Parallel Lines had me hooked and I loved all Sebastian’s chapters. His free thought, his wit, his word play – all are brilliant. However, for me, the other characters’ chapters did not match up, mostly because I had very little interest in them as people. Those chapters felt like conversations which excluded the reader, a platform for social comment which was dry and self-indulgent. But Sebastian was everything.

In all the words, in all the chapters though, this perfect, genius sentence stands out:

“…and she had a face like a court summons you’d scrunched up angrily and then fished out of the bin ands tried to flatten, but her eyes were as soft and blue as a summer afternoon.”

It’s not a book for me but I know many of you will love it. St Aubyn is a skilled writer and some time spent in his company is time well spent.

Thank you to NetGalley and Random House/Vintage for the Advanced Review Copy of the book, which I have voluntarily reviewed.

This book envelops societal commentary in a fictional home. It’s erudite and striking. I enjoyed following the self-conscious and self-reflective characters (therapists, artists, journalists, even a priest) and would certainly read a sequel.

Endless talking heads discussing various issues do not a novel make

I just have to conclude, given the literary praise St. Aubyn has been showered with, and the general appreciation of many of his readers, that his is a voice which just does not connect with this reader.

I tried, some years ago, when his first novel came out, to read that, attracted by the admiring reviews in the book review pages I look at, often by other whom I connect with, and whose books do speak to me. I tend to read mainly ‘literary fiction’ which was the genre St. Aubyn seems to be classified under

And seriously thought we were not reading the same book. Which I abandoned, some way through

This particular book sounded interesting, and again, it was being hugely praised by some wonderful writers of literary fiction.

Unfortunately, this book mainly seems to consist of a series of heavyweight talking heads, most of whose voices are (in my opinion) undifferentiated. They spout across supper tables and gatherings about theories of psychotherapy. Several of them are psychotherapists. There are also long explanations about the tie ups between colonialisation, empire and the climate crisis. Histories of voyages of discovery, including Darwin’s, the depredations in the South American rain forests, and so on and so on. Fine, informative, interesting. Or, at least I may have found all the theorising and analysis of issues and presenting of factual information interesting in non-fiction books on the issues.

But, in a novel, without character or voice differentiation, just endless telling? This was like being lectured at by a very dry academic, with a somewhat monotonous voice

The only voice and character I got engaged with, and actually got glimmers of appreciation for what the writer might be appreciated for, was Sebastian, the schizophrenic, who is one of the major players within such narrative as might be discerned. There were wonderful streams of consciousness, verbal games, rhythm, images, weavings in of random, surprising, witty, profound and playful connections. Sebastian’s voice was absolutely alive and present. But unfortunately, almost half way through the slog of the rest of it, waiting for characters to properly connect and engage and be in relationship with each other, for any sense of narrative and urgency to develop, and finding none, I gave up.

I thoroughly enjoyed this novel. The characters are richly drawn, and the writing is sharp—at times funny, always thought-provoking. One line in particular stuck with me: “What can possibly be not thought-provoking?” It captures the spirit of the book well.

The plot itself is fairly straightforward, but the strength of the storytelling kept me fully engaged. Martin, a psychiatrist, is treating Sebastian, a strange and vulnerable young man whose view of the world is filtered through a mind that draws unusual and often startling connections.

Martin’s adopted daughter, Olivia, also plays a central role. Her relationship with her biological mother is fraught and difficult, and I found her to be a complex, sympathetic figure.

.The writing style can be dense, with long and complex sentences and an emphasis on ideas, but I found that intellectually satisfying rather than off-putting.


Many thanks to Jonathan Cape and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.