The (often failed) sexual exploits of teens Jon, Ben and Dino are varied and often hilarious. As the three of them struggle to come to terms with their desires and feelings for the opposite sex, they each embark on a journey of self-discovery. They all have their own dark secrets relating to their relationships with the opposite sex, and their frequently chauvinistic views are far too well-realised to be entirely fictional.

There are so many deftly intertwined themes here that it's hard to dismiss this as teen trash, yet the focus is so much on the sexual content that it does feel like you should be reading it secretly under your duvet with a torch. It falls into a strange limbo, wherein adult readers are perhaps too experienced to really be engaged, and inexperienced teens may well feel excluded from the in-jokes, and potentially intimidated by the graphic content. What this essentially boils down to is that it's rather difficult to determine who this book is intended for: it seems that it is, in essence, a nostalgic stroll down Mammary Lane, meant to make us cringe at the activities of our youth.

All praise to Burgess though, there are some genuine issues confronted here. Teacher-student relationships are explored in a refreshingly new angle, wherein the student slowly outgrows the initial fantasy-fulfilment and realises that he is far too young for this sort of thing. Jonathan's social dilemma of whether or not to date a 'fat bird' is underpinned by comedy but is in actuality a condemnation of body-type discrimination. Then there's divorce, affairs, adultery, shoplifting: these things may be the ultimate cliches of teen angst, but there doesn't seem to be anything gratuitous about their inclusion. The plot unfolds in a very organic fashion, and sweeps the boys along to their inevitable deflowering in a well-observed and comedic manner.

It has to be said that, throughout the book, your sympathies really lie with the girls. The few chapters that are written from their point of view shows them to be far more mature, and increasingly baffled by the bizarrely backward behaviour of their male counterparts. Even Dino's mother manages to maintain her dignity in the throes of an affair, which is quite a triumph for Burgess. Indeed, for all his characters, he successfully avoids stereotypes and presents them as complex and three-dimensional. There is very little judgement passed during the book and, as such, it really is possible to form your own views on each character's actions, outside of any author-imposed belief system.

The sex-obsessed minds of pubescent boys may not sound like the ideal place to spend your precious reading hours, yet Burgess so perfectly captures the dilemmas and obsessions of his protagonists that it's like a masterclass in understanding them (quite frankly, anything that casts some light onto understanding such creatures should be awarded some sort of prize). The world they exist in is frighteningly realistic, and there are some excellent sub-plots. On the other hand, it seems that even Burgess is a little unsure of who is likely to read his book, and therefore different elements of the plot and the writing style are pitched and rather different demographics, which sometimes affects the flow of the narrative. That being said, ‘Doing It’ is perfectly enjoyable and (whether it's a good or bad thing) reminds us of out misspent youth. Those were the days, apparently.

Rachel Evans is a drama graduate who works in publishing in Bournemouth. She is an avid film junkie and cult fiction obsessive, placing Palahniuk, Fincher and Aronofsky at the top of her list of heroes.

© 2004 Laura Hird All rights reserved.