This was my first Nick Hornby novel. I get why it is in the comic genre because I laughed once every two chapters, which means I laughed about fifteen times. Now that I think about it, on a scale of laughter-per-page, the overall score is this: definitely lacking in laughs. But what really disappointed me about the book: there weren’t any of the scandalous, explicit scenes which made the unrated, uncut European version of the film so much better than the book. I’d love to go to a Q&A with the director: I’m sure other people wonder: Is that actually Hugh Grant’s buttocks? Questions like this one prove what everyone has assumed for a long time: movies usually greatly improve an otherwise boring book. One might be tricked by an exciting film into reading the book, but, reader beware. The book is probably much, much more boring than the novel, so save yourself the time spent reading. Let Hollywood transform the novel into something enjoyable; spend your holiday at the beach doing something productive. Do not read this book.