Probably would have enjoyed this more when it came out, but I don't thin kit has aged very well. Comes across now as pretty self-indulgent, and over-weighting some relatively light philosophy and satire. I did enjoy some bits but ultimately it was a slog. ( )

The Quantity Theory of Insanity is Will Self's first book, and although I had previously read Cock and Bull before I picked up this text, I felt as though I was starting over with his oeuvre. Reading Self from the start, in sequence, is not a bad strategy - after all, his fiction is littered with intratextual references, recurring characters, and little in-jokes that build from one book to the next.

Self is a polarizing writer whose reputation usually precedes him. He tends to be either loved or hated as a consequence, which is unfortunate, because authors should not be judged solely on the emotional reactions they provoke. You see, Self is clever and witty and erudite in a way that only the English seem to be able to pull off. Personally, I was captivated by the stories in The Quantity Theory of Insanity. Self is not merely showing off here: his satire has real teeth, and is grounded in a fierce intellect that attempts to be revolutionary even as it acknowledges such precursors as Kafka and Chekhov.

My experience of reading the first story in here, "The North London Book of the Dead," is a perfect example of the unsettling yet amusing nature of Self's texts. What appears at first to be a tragic tale of how a man loses his mother to cancer gradually transforms itself into minor pathos. The dead don't go away altogether, the narrator discovers, they merely move to a different part of London. I was, by turns, confused and then amused as I realized the true purpose of the metaphor that Self was creating.

This biting caricature of the dullness of English life is replicated in other stories, such as "Understanding the Ur-Bororo." The story follows the career of Janner, an aspiring anthropologist who dedicates his career to studying this obscure tribe, the Ur-Bororo, winning a special grant dedicated to this specific purpose. What Janner discovers, however, is that the romance surrounding the tribe derives purely from their obscurity. In reality, they are the most boring people in the world, whose culture shows a remarkable indifference to sex and whose conversations consist of bland observations about the weather. Janner marries one of the tribe and, in a brilliant satirical twist, brings her back to England, where she fits right in.

The stories in The Quantity Theory of Insanity thus typically explore one of two themes: the unexciting, self-limiting way in which humanity tends to live life, as exemplified by the two stories mentioned already as well as the book's closer, "Waiting," and Self's exploration of madness, rationality, and power. It is in this book, for instance, that we first meet Self's most important recurring character, the experimental psychiatrist Dr. Zack Busner, together with his notorious mentor Alkan (a not-too-subtle but utterly enjoyable caricature of Jacques Lacan). This latter theme is by far the most profound and interesting, and I particularly liked "Ward 9″ (an inversion of Chekhov's "Ward 6″) and the title story, which engages in a brilliant deconstruction of psychology's attempts to legitimize itself through "objective" testing, a message that few will appreciate and even fewer will understand.

On the whole, I loved The Quantity Theory of Insanity with only a couple of reservations. The first is that I didn't like the story "Mono-Cellular," a testament to the occasional tendency of English fiction writers to overreach their abilities (I'm looking at you, A.S. Byatt). The second is that this book at times felt strangely dated, in the same way that reading literary and critical theory from the same period feels dated. I get a similar feeling when I read Self's other books, too, as if he is still trying to push the boundaries of 1980s postmodernism without realizing that the rest of the world has moved on. Nonetheless, it's wickedly clever stuff, for all its strange anachronisms, and I highly recommend it if you are in the mood for something intelligent and anarchic. ( )

6 racconti, il più riuscito dà anche il titolo al libro in originale: la teoria quantitativa dell'infermità mentale, tradotto insensatamente Cordiali saluti da un mondo insano. Ipotesi rivoluzionaria: in una data società in un dato momento esiste solo una quota fissa di sanità mentale disponibile.
Passaggi di umorismo folgorante: ricercatori che scrivevano relazioni su la ricerca del personale per l'industria della ricerca del personale, sulla redazione di riviste interne per Le società di comunicazione.
Molti riferimenti comprensibili solo a chi è nato e cresciuto a Oxford.
Capire gli Ur-bororo sbeffeggia l'idealizzazione degli uomini primitivi con la scoperta di una tribù in amazzonia dai costumi assolutamente insulsi e noiosi. ( )

Self knows a lot of big, old, underrated and little-used words and seems intent on using them. This collection of six short stories invites you to sample Self's rare intellect, but does so like an invitation to the gallery at the back of an auditorium for a lecture you've heard a lot about but soon realise have little hope of understanding.

Like the narrator of 'Waiting', you start well, rapt even by the wordplay, wit and intelligence, but soon Self has lost you, the rest of the book an "increasingly involved, turgid and difficult" display. Like Stein's lecture, "the sheer weight of detail eroded my attention... I began to tune out."

The copy of the book I own has a big fat stain on the back cover, a thick brown ring of coffee-tainted water. I concur that the book probably makes for a better coaster than an insight into anything Self might have to offer. Beyond the first two tales you might consider putting it to stain avoidance duties and consider yourself done with the business of reading.

If I had the option to give this 1-and-a-half stars, I'd do it. I didn't hate it, but I didn't exactly like it either. I wouldn't recommend it, unless I wanted to put someone off reading Self for life. On the other hand, if I ever read any other books by him and find they raise the bar, I might suggest reading this to really put his brilliance into perspective. 'He can sink this low, yet rise to such incredible heights... Do you see?" ( )

Le Londre di autori che si sono cimentati con forme brevi del racconto, come Will Self nella raccolta The Quantity Theory of Insanity, oppure Jonathan Hodgson nel cortometraggio di animazione Feeling My Way, rappresentano una città che interagisce in modo sottile e potenzialmente pericoloso con i personaggi che vi si muovono, i quali rischiano spesso di perdere la propria individualità o smarriscono definitivamente la ragione. La grande estensione di Londra – una caratteristica che ricorre, con le nozioni di ingestibilità e anonimato che l’accompagnano – permette perfino di recuperare il concetto di doppio della città che sta alla base stessa della sua mitologia, ovvero la necropoli, ospitandola come nulla fosse accanto alla città dei vivi.
Va anche notato che queste rappresentazioni della città di Londra, distaccandosi dall’iconografia consolidata, pur se minacciose sono colorate, e popolate da artefatti architettonici contemporanei, magari discutibili ma presenti nella loro materialità. ( )