Each part of the book details a relation between the artist and his art, whether this be Sherman Oaks, a dwarf sculptor who makes gigantic statues, or Self's own voyage to discover the filmmakers responsible for tainting the form with CGI.

The blurring between the factual elements of Self's life and opinions, Gonzo-esque embellishments, and the use of an unreliable narrator, makes a clear distinction between fact and falsity virtually impossible.

The conversations with Scooby-Doo, the made-up characters, the sex, lies and videotape – this is a landscape contoured, almost in whole, by Self’s imagination… It is, as always, a place crammed with a Devil’s Dictionary’s worth of wordplay, and with an unerring tendency towards the absurd.

The most successful book he has written, and it establishes, perhaps, what kind of writer Self actually is: a modern-day Jonathan Swift.

There is a deeply moral core to Walking To Hollywood, and a raw emotional quality his previous fictions may have repressed or sublimated.