Of course, many will take umbrage with the author’s recurrent use of colourful language and dialect, which at times reads like an English Irvine Welsh, Rowling matching him obscenity for obscenity throughout. However, this is every bit as appropriate in a world of leg-ups, back-scratches, split lips and cigarettes as the magical lexicon that pervades every Harry Potter title. Winterdown Comprehensive is every bit as vibrant and real as Hogwarts, and Pagford Parish Council every bit as cancerous as the Ministry – the difference here is that this story’s darkness is borne of human lust and folly as opposed to literary evil.
Rowling’s prose is as evocative as ever, and here is sharpened by a cruel edge that has, until now, had to be dulled a little for her target readership. Characters with onomatopoeic surnames are described as looking like Frankenstein’s monster; images of the obese are conjured through musings about how they could possibly wash their nether regions. The pace is a little slow, admittedly – we’re a third of way through before the eponymous casual vacancy is cemented through Fairbrother’s burial – but ultimately this is a novel about character, not incident.
Whether you’re a fan or Rowling, Potter, or just literature in general, The Casual Vacancy is sure to come as a welcome breath of fresh air. It may be teeming with easy sex, methadone and characters encapsulated by their mantra that life is, “Trying to get a fuck, and trying not to die,” but it sets itself apart from the torrent of tantalising ‘mummy porn’ bestsellers such as Fifty Shades of Grey through its cutting commentary on class, bigotry and greed. Rowling’s first book for grown-ups takes us through the magician’s pocket to a cheerless and edgy world abounding with painful possibilities that, personally, I find almost as alluring as the one teeming with wands, witches and wizards.