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The sentence, and this is in no way a metaphorical sentence, is savory, revealing, and understated without the author showing his hand. Here we understand the extension of Dave's bad fathering and poor providing. Further on we witness Dave's deterioration (and Self excels at deterioration, particularly, as is the case here, with characters he actually likes), viewed through the Fairway:

"There was the Fairway - a stupid, bulbous creature with a radiator grin.

Its engine purred, its bumper nuzzled him, it demanded affection - it wanted another twenty-odd years of creepy, inter-specific cuddles. Dave was repelled."

However, because he's written himself into a prodded corner, none of Self's novels - Book of Dave included - pop with satisfaction. As a satirist, the battle between pure story and pure hypothesis, between "stout stake" and slapstick, will always be a hard fought loss. In the primitive A.D. section of the book, we get that "A-ha!" moment as we've pieced together the glossary and the etymology from which they're borne; and we're amused at the interchangeability between the names of the characters from one epoch to the next - not unlike Wharton's Age of Innocence; but the puzzle outweighs the final chapter. Likewise, with Dave. His end is rendered with essential objectivity. The problem is that we've become so trained to Dave's decadent failures sexual, familial, and physical (there's hilarious groaning with the balding cabbie's transplants, his "hair harvested from his groin? he had pubic hair touching his eyebrows."), that we don't know how to take this sad sack suddenly sacked sadly.

But these are minor complaints. With such succulent prose, un-American risks, and narrative ambition, Will Self always breaks even.