The third in John King's acclaimed exploration of the world of ultra-right-wing English football hooliganism, England Away is, according to its own cover blurb, a subtle examination of the "stereotypes of language and nationalism, the primal pulls of lust and aggression . . . " Hmm. Well, the lads - big, thick and ugly, for the most part - are on tour to Berlin for an international, flowing eastwards on a sea of lager (and other, less palatable, fluids) towards a showdown with the "reich-geezers." This storyline, such as it is, is constantly interrupted by chunks of the second World War memories of an old codger back in London and the inexorable slide towards suicide of one of his drinking pals, a Gulf War veteran. The appeal of England Away, I must say, escaped me completely. It's brutal, and that's fine: it's authentic, almost certainly; but does it have to be so damned dull?
