Edward St. Aubyn’s latest novel is, according to the publisher’s blurb, written with the English author’s “trademark wit and inimitable style.” Readers with even a passing acquaintance with that wit and style may find themselves flummoxed while turning the book’s opening pages. For, instead of encountering stately, pristine prose laced with arch commentary, savage humor, and acute observations, we are assailed by a thick torrent of disjoined thoughts and manic impressions. This is definitely not business as usual. Has St. Aubyn repositioned his brand and diversified his talent?