Look, Forster is an excellent writer - he is particularly and lethally observant - and this short novel is no exception. There's certainly an awareness of the black humour behind the snobbery and selfishness of all these terrible people, and I can enjoy reading it and admire the skill of it without loving the result. Basically I find it very hard to love a book so stuffed full of extremely silly people, and with the best will in the world the coach accident at the end is high melodrama at best. (If only the book had wallowed fully in that drama and taken out a few more of the characters...)