Russell Tarrant's latest linguistic tour de force takes us into England's heart of darkness - Andover, to be precise - and opens up a seething tin of maggots: town hall cronyism, back room deals, expedience morality, self-serving decisions, hollow words and editorial boot-licking. The kernel is the War Memorial, erected to honour Andover's fallen in two world wars. The husk is the Memorial Hospital, about to be sacrificed to the money-god and sold. The nut is 'Joe Soap' - citizen, artist and agitator. The author blends a surrealistic approach (Dali) with political philosophy (Plato) to underline his moral indignation at official interference in public and private lives. His battle with the middle class focuses on bitter dealings with the foster-father of his daughter, Girly, now a teenager: his unseen stake in the future. No wonder this Andovenan views humanity as the 'Scum of the Earth'! But as humanity's tide rolls inexorably to and fro, Tarrant's work is a notable objet trouvé marking the waterline.