Take a story's temperature by studying its tone. Is it hopeful? Cynical? Snarky? Playful?
Satirical, Polemical
No question about it: Anthony Burgess sets out to ruffle some feathers in The Wanting Seed, and the novel's tone ranges from gently satirical to full-on caustic.
Take a gander at one of the novel's gentler moments of poking fun: the love letter that Beatrice-Joanna writes to Derek:
'Oh, darling, sometimes I wake in the night or afternoon or morning or whenever it is we go to bed, according to the shift he's working, and want to cry out with desire for you.' She crammed her left fist in mouth as if to stifle such a cry. 'Oh, dearest one, I love you, love, love you. I long for your arms around me and your lips—' She saw that she had already said that, so she crossed it out; but the crossing-out made it appear that she had thought better of wanting his arms, lips, and so on. She shrugged and went on. (2.2.1)
Now compare the light-hearted mockery in that passage to the more obviously polemical (i.e., controversial, antagonizing, warlike) tone of this one:
A trio of police recruits had come in, smiling wide. One of them performed a small step-dance, ending with a palsied salute. Another pretended to spray the room with his carbine. Remote, cold, abstract, the concrete music went on. The homos laughed, whinnied, embraced. (1.10.15)
Two crucial things are happening here: (1) the narrative voice is drawing attention to the terrifying reality that the State is equipping adolescent boys with police authority and deadly weapons; (2) the narrative voice is describing the gay patrons of the bar (and possibly the police officers too) as whinnying horses. Is there a point to all of this, or is the narrative voice simply venting its derision for gay men? These are the difficult questions that the novel's tone forces us to ask, and folks, we've got to say—the answers aren't easy to pin down.