"Falling out of cars" has all of Jeff Noon's usual surrealism, dislocation and sense of alienation. It's fast-moving and, to a degree, gripping. It's reminiscent of a David Lynch movie. As the back-cover blurb says, this is a novel that refuses to resolve itself, and you will find this either irritating or perfectly appropriate. I have to say that it didn't work for me as well as some of Noon's other novels: "Vurt" and "Pollen", in particular. The main character has too little hope, no connection to place and only the loosest sort of personal connections. All that is appropriate to the endemic sickness of the world described, but it makes it hard for the reader to connect to the story in a meaningful way. One of Jeff Noon's strengths as a SF writer is that he never over-explains, but instead leaves the reader to come to grips with his bizzare worlds by experiencing them through the story. In "Falling out of cars", though, that goes a little too far for my tastes. The reader is never offered so much as a moment of explanation for why all this (the schizophrenic disease plaguing England and, presumably, the world) is happening or what it means for the rest of the world.