Thus, the novel turns from a simple cross-breed of two genres into a surprising array of what Winot calls 'gastro-historico-psycho-autobiographico-anthropico-philosophic lucubrations' (224). Whereas the former is borne out by the accuracy of the ensuing menus and recipes, the latter comes to the fore in innumerable digressions: he lectures on the cultural history of the peach, the manifold variations of stew, and the philosophical implications of cheese. (4) These chapters are preceded by a theoretical essay ('Preface, Acknowledgement and a Note on Structure,' 1-5), which highlights the seemingly authentic nature of the cookbook as well as the narcissist sophistication of its fictional maitre, Tarquin Winot. The Debt to Pleasure is arranged in four chapters corresponding to the four seasons, starting with the winter menu and ending with various autumnal recipes. In a final step, it will be argued that the dynamics of the unexpected depends on the aestheticism that informs the novel. This will be supplemented by an analysis of stylistic surprises which involve the reader in a subtle literary game. Subsequently, the element of surprise in the murder plot will be discussed.

After giving a taste of the textual surprises Lanchester's novel has in store, this paper will show how Winot uses surprises to activate reader participation. While the revelation of Tarquin Winot's murderous insanity surely makes for the most important single surprise, many other surprises depend on stylistic and rhetorical strategies, and on intricate interrelations between literary and sensory perceptions. Purportedly written by the erudite and immoral Tarquin Winot, the sophisticated culinary guide through the four seasons develops into a murder manual that turns its unwitting readers into accomplices of more than one murder. John Lanchester's 1996 debut The Debt to Pleasure, (3) in which he marries the cookbook to the literary confession, is, indeed, full of textual surprises. 'This is not a conventional cookbook': (2) such a statement at the beginning of a novel surely takes the reader by surprise.

The debt to pleasure