Book Club

[Dex_star]

Finaly got it

[grilled cheese]

What I heard was but the melody of children at play, nothing but that, and so limpid was the air that within this vapor of blended voices, majestic and minute, remote and magically near, frank and divinely enigmatic--one could hear now and then, as if released, an almost articulate spurt of vivid laughter, or the crack of a bat, or the clatter of a toy wagon, but it was all really too far for the eye to distinguish any movement in the lightly etches streets. I stood listening to that musical vibration from my lofty slope, to those flashes of separate cries with a kind of demure murmur for background, and then I knew that the hopelessly poignant thing was not Lolita's absence from my side, but the absence of her from that concord.

So dope. That's going into one of my notebooks.

[Halifamous]

Yo, I'll get in on this next book (awesome cheating, since I've read it).

Landho: regarding Amis and criticism, if you haven't read his novels I'll give it away: He loves Nabakov because he's a style-wonk, an aesthete. I think you'll find in the course of reading this book (stylistically his best) that he shares that empty but beautiful prose style.

His dad is superior writer. I'd suggest him as a future project for this club.

[habia]

That Yardley quote on the front of the edition Lan and Dex Star have reminds me of what "John Ray, Jr., Ph.D." says in the Foreward of Lolita.

This commentator may be excused for repeating what he has stressed in his own books and lectures, namely that "offensive" is frequently but a synonym for "unusual"; and a great work of art is of course always original, and thus by its very nature should come as a more or less shocking surprise.

No doubt Amis himself is aware of this allusion, I wonder how much credit to give Yardley though.

Been steadily reading Money this week. I will try to get some coherent thoughts together in another post.

[Pickering]

I want to join, even if I am a n00b...

[habia]

^you are welcome to join, just start reading.

One thing which catches my attention is the resemblance between Amis the author and John Self the narrator. The image I have of Amis in my mind is from 2007 when I saw him "in conversation" during the New Yorker Festival (here http://www.newyorker.com/online/video/festival/2007/AmisBuruma actually worth watching). In this appearance he is old, weathered, slightly overweight, really not so different from John Self. The photo in my edition of Money though shows Amis as a young man, thing, athletic, taut features; antithesis of Self.

[landho]

One thing which catches my attention is the resemblance between Amis the author and John Self the narrator. The image I have of Amis in my mind is from 2007 when I saw him "in conversation" during the New Yorker Festival (here http://www.newyorker.com/online/video/festival/2007/AmisBuruma actually worth watching). In this appearance he is old, weathered, slightly overweight, really not so different from John Self. The photo in my edition of Money though shows Amis as a young man, thing, athletic, taut features; antithesis of Self.

Page 71-72

Consider Self's disdainful attitude toward writers in general. And Martin Amis himself makes a surprise appearance:

Oh yeah, and a

writer

lives round my way too. A guy in a pub pointed him out to me, and I've seen him hanging out in Family Fun, the space-game parlour, and toting his blue laundry bag to the Whirlomat. I don't think they can pay writers that much, do you?... He stops and stares at me. His face is cramped and incredulous--also knowing, with a smirk of collusion in his bent smile. He gives me the creeps.

'Know me again would you?'

I once shouted across the street, and gave him a V-sign and a warning fist. He stood his ground and stared. This writer's name, they tell me, is

Martin Amis

. Never heard of him. Do

you

know his stuff at all?

Will have to be looked at closely later, but something to consider in the light of your comment.

[habia]

^yep, Amis the author seems to be having quite a bit of fun with this part.

Not finished yet so I don't feel too comfortable drawing conclusions about anything...

Self is such a slob and so cynical sometimes that for a while I found Money to absolutely not be a pleasure to read at all. I like it, the prose is great and I enjoy the way Self switches from slob-diction to Amis-diction in his narration. Nonetheless for a while I was finding his world to just be unpleasant.

Maybe it just took a while to get used to the writing or something though since I have started to really appreciate the humor. I'll make a more detailed post later with clear "spoiler" indicators.

[landho]

Yo, I'll get in on this next book (awesome cheating, since I've read it).

Landho: regarding Amis and criticism, if you haven't read his novels I'll give it away: He loves Nabakov because he's a style-wonk, an aesthete. I think you'll find in the course of reading this book (stylistically his best) that he shares that empty but beautiful prose style.

His dad is superior writer. I'd suggest him as a future project for this club.

Never thought of Nabokov as writing "empty but beautiful prose," but it's certainly true as Nabokov was the biggest proponent of art for art's sake and would deny to his death any broader social or symbolic meaning in his work.

[landho]

There are only unofficial ones (designated by a lengthy blank space). I will use these to note where I am and also the page number from the most recent Penguin edition. About a fourth of the way done.

Chapter 1, Page 24

Laughed at this, felt society's disapproving eye while doing so;

I've hit women. Yes, I know, I know: it isn't cool. Funnily enough, it's hard to do, in a sense. Have

you

ever done it? Girls, ladies, have you ever copped one? It's hard. It's quite a step, particularly the first time. After that, though, it just gets easier and easier. After a while, hitting women is like rolling off a log. But I suppose I'd better stop. I suppose I'd better kick it, one of these days.

I guess hitting women is like murder or riding a roller coaster. Although I guess you don't even have to stop riding roller coasters. Maybe after you get a family.

Chapter 1, Page 26

I hate this joke:

"Then she was date-raped in Bridgehampton by her weekend therapist."

"Date-raped, huh. What kind of deal is that? What, sort of with bananas and stuff?"

Sure, see the pun, too, but I also hate that pun. Didn't even love it when Nabokov did it.

Also, I should note that I hate fake actors and fake movies, but if you're writing an industry satire in which the narrator is a major player, then you really don't have any other choice. I wonder who and what the actors and movies are based on, respectively.

And did anyone think of Michael Bay when they were reading this? An esteemed director of commercials who goes on to love money and make films that are concerned with making money? I know Money was written well before Michael Bay's film career, but still....

Chapter 1, Pages 27–28

John Self professes to know nothing about money: " 'In general terms, Slick, how much do you know about money?' I said--very little." But he seems to understand a great deal about it--maybe not about its history, but certainly about its allure and power:

Is

Alec fucking [selina]?... Here's my theory. I don't think she is. I don't think Selina Street

is

fucking Alec Llewellyn. Why? Because he hasn't got any money. I have. Come on, why do you reckon Selina had soldiered it out with me? For my pot belly, my bad rug, my personality? She's not in this for her health, is she?

Self's insecurity is very naked, but strange enough, it's tied into a certain pragmatism:

You know where you are with economic necessity. When I make all this money I'm going to make, my position will be even stronger. Then I can kick Selina out and get someone even better.

[habia]

Finished Money a couple days ago and really liked it. Really enjoyed how playful and self conscious the writing is. Amis is impressing the hell out of me. In addition to rewatching the New Yorker Festival interview of his, I also recently read an article he had in the Wall Street Journal weekend edition (http://online.wsj.com/article/SB121883817312745575.html).

I may have been comparing money to Lolita too directly throughout my reading, but I don't think this was too much of a problem.

I think I will save more complete analysis and reflections on the novel until more people have finished.

One minor comment which caught my attention on page 110

"Columbia, Slick... Chicago, LA, wherever- in America our seats of learning are surrounded by the worst, the biggest, the most desperate ratshit slums in the cimilized world. It seems to be the American way. What does this mean? What is its content? Now over here John, we get a really superb view of Harlem." [says Fielding]

What is the simple explanation for this? Just that private educational institutes in the US need to be large enough that they can't usually afford prime real estate?

Columbia certainly used to be in a much worse neighborhood than in the past 10-15 years, but I have heard the area surrounding USC has a decent amount of crime and I know the same is true for Case Western Reserve in Cleveland. Other schools apparently as well.

[landho]

One minor comment which caught my attention on page 110

"Columbia, Slick... Chicago, LA, wherever- in America our seats of learning are surrounded by the worst, the biggest, the most desperate ratshit slums in the cimilized world. It seems to be the American way. What does this mean? What is its content? Now over here John, we get a really superb view of Harlem." [says Fielding]

What is the simple explanation for this? Just that private educational institutes in the US need to be large enough that they can't usually afford prime real estate?

Columbia certainly used to be in a much worse neighborhood than in the past 10-15 years, but I have heard the area surrounding USC has a decent amount of crime and I know the same is true for Case Western Reserve in Cleveland. Other schools apparently as well.

Funny, just read that part and it struck me as well (but mostly because I was wondering which institutions Fielding was talking about [Columbia, University of Chicago, and USC]). But that statement isn't true at all--Harvard, Princeton, and Berkeley are all "seats of learning" with even larger reputations and they clearly don't exist near "ratshit slums." So it's kind of an arbitrary set that Fielding chose.

[landho]

Chapter 1, page 30

Amis almost explicitly comments on John Self's unreliability as a narrator:

Memory has never amused me much, and I find its tricks more and more wearisome as I grow older. Perhaps memory simply stays the same but has less work to do as the days fill out. My memory's in good shape, I think. It's just that my life is getting less memorable all the time. Can you remember where you left those keys? Why should you? Lying in the rub some slow afternoon, can you remember if you've washed your toes? (Taking a leak is boring, isn't it, after the first few thousand times? Whew, isn't

that

a drag?) I can't remember half the stuff I do any more. But then I don't want to much.

The idea of artifice and the unreliable narrator isn't as deeply explored a theme as it is in Lolita, but clearly there is a lot of artifice going on. You have to wonder how much Amis is in Self (consider even the name of the narrator); that there is a character named Martin Amis only adds to the novel's artifice.

Also, John Self's constantly addressing the reader suggests that he is narrating the story at some indeterminate point in the future. Just something to keep in mind.

[cjbreed]

i am waaaaaayyy behind. dammit

[landho]

i am waaaaaayyy behind. dammit

I'm only about a third of the way through, but I wanted to get some notes up to (hopefully) spur some discussion.

[cjbreed]

^^i'm so early in the book that i can't really contribute. But I like Self. He's a funny character and I appreciate the gritty and informal style.

But man reading about his miserable diet and lack of exercise, and high octane booze and coffee and cigarettes fueled lifestyle, and general fat-assed nastiness makes me feel exhausted. Living like that is awful when your gettin' old...

[landho]

Chapter 1, pages 31–32

The first appearance of the mysterious guy stalking John Self. Habia, hard not to think of this as a Quilty-like character, so it's easy to see why you would have Lolita on the brain while reading Money.

Chapter 1, pages 42–43

John Self's inability to tell time--he mistakes 9 pm for 9 am.

Chapter 1, page 44

If only Martin Amis and John Self could see us now: "I am a pornography addict, for instance, with a three-mag-a-week and at-least-one-movie habit to sustain."

Chapter 1, page 46

John Self's feelings toward Selina Street seem motivated both by a weird insecurity (his fear of losing her) and an even weirder hero complex (his desire to save her); the former was discussed on page 28, the latter here: "You know something? I've got to marry her, marry Selina Street. If I don't, probably no one else will, and I'll have ruined another life."

[landho]

Chapter 2, page 54

For some reason, this really struck me:

...[Fielding Goodney]'s had a lot of experience in, in money.

Not the statement itself, but in the presentation of the statement. If John Self is recollecting this story to a reader, why is he portraying himself as stuttering here? Is he perfectly conveying the conversation he had, down to the smallest tics? Is he telling the story orally rather than through the written word? None of these make any sense. Granted, it's such a small, incidental detail, but for a writer as obsessive as Amis, it's almost certainly no accident. But what does it mean?

Chapter 2, page 59

John Self's insecurities extend to higher education. He is afflicted with typical American anti-intellectualism and worships instead the almighty dollar, which is, in his estimation, a truer assessment of one's character:

As a rule, I hate people who are the beneficiaries of a university education. I hate people with degrees, O-levels, eleven-pluses, Iowa Tests, shorthand diplomas... And you hate me, don't you. yes you do. Because I'm the new kind, the kind who has money but can never use it for anything but ugliness. To which I say: You never let us in, not really. You might have thought you let us in, but you never really did. You just gave us some money.

Note that John Self himself never went to college (or at the very least never got a degree) and that the reader he addresses is assumed to at least have a college degree, to be one of the "beneficiaries of a university education" that he hates so much.

Chapter 2, pages 62–63

Did anyone else find John Self's boorish behavior toward Doris Arthur hilarious?

"Can you see okay, or do you want to sit on my face? Tell me something. What's

her

motivation? What's theirs? Listen. I got the Fiasco outside. Let's have some lunch at your hotel. Then I'll take you upstairs and give you a really long lesson in motivation"....

"Thanks, she said as I approached. "This is one of the worst times I've had for years."

"Come on, darling, you know you love it."

She steadied herself. She spoke with effort, but she managed to get it all out in the end. "You asshole," she said. "I didn't know they were still cranking them out. You think that despite ourselves women like me are attracted to men like you. But I don't want to go to bed with men like you. I don't want men like you to

exist

."

[landho]

Chapter 2, page 67

John Self waxing introspective:

I realize, when I can bear to think about it, that all my hobbies are pornographic in tendency. The element of lone gratification is bluntly stressed. Fast food, sex shows, space games, slot machines, video nasties, nude mags, drink, pubs, fighting, television, handjobs. I've got a hunch about these handjobs, or about their exhausting frequency. I need that human touch. There's no human here so I do it myself. At least handjobs are free, complimentary, with no cash attaching.

Chapter 2, 71–72

John Self disparaging writers. I wonder whether this is Amis's attempt to satirize Hollywood (where writers are routinely disparaged and shat upon, even in critical circles [consider the preeminence of the auteur in film studies]). Of course (as mentioned earlier), the writer being disparaged is Martin Amis himself, in a very strange act of artifice.

Chapter 2, pages 73–74

Despite John Self's possessive attitude toward Selina earlier, he expresses a voyeuristic one toward here, when he asks her to tell him about a recent sexual encounter. It really seems to get him worked up. Of course, this just reinforces John Self's objectification of women and his view of them as simply means to an end.

Also, on this page is the tired joke in which the dialogue involving a trip to the dentist sounds exactly the same as a sexual encounter.

Chapter 2, page 85

John Self on relationships:

Now, as I see it, girls with no money have two ways of asserting themselves: they can either start fights all the time, or they can simply be unhappy at you until you surrender. (They can't leave; they haven't got the dough.)

[habia]

Chapter 2, pages 62–63

Did anyone else find John Self's boorish behavior toward Doris Arthur hilarious?

"Can you see okay, or do you want to sit on my face? Tell me something. What's

her

motivation? What's theirs? Listen. I got the Fiasco outside. Let's have some lunch at your hotel. Then I'll take you upstairs and give you a really long lesson in motivation"....

"Thanks, she said as I approached. "This is one of the worst times I've had for years."

"Come on, darling, you know you love it."

She steadied herself. She spoke with effort, but she managed to get it all out in the end. "You asshole," she said. "I didn't know they were still cranking them out. You think that despite ourselves women like me are attracted to men like you. But I don't want to go to bed with men like you. I don't want men like you to

exist

."

at this point I hadn't quite warmed up to Self yet, but one part I did find totally hilarious is p. 233 when he is trying to rape Selina. I was surprised by my reaction to this; usually I really dislike any casual use of the term "rape" such as in discussing sports or whatever ever since a friend of mine was raped our first year of university.

Nonetheless, I was laughing at the drama and desperation leading to his increased respect for the rapist's resolve.

The rape sequence and then Self's conversation with Amis on p. 242 really hooked me. This was the main turning point for me while reading Money, when suddenly it grabbed me and I began to trust the author entirely and was ready to go wherever he was taking the narrative. When Amis asks "What's up, John? You seem low." and Self responds by explaining about various problems with the Fiasco, rather than explaining recent turns of event concerning Selina.

also a one liner for which I have strong appreciation: p.204 discussing literature and Fielding says

"Oh sure. it gives me all kinds of ideas. I like the sounds and the fury," he said enigmatically.

The Sound and the Fury might be my favorite book of all time, and the best work of literature I know of (or at least that I know I know of).

[habia]

I saw Dark Knight for the second time a couple days ago. I didn't notice the first time around but in one part Joker self identifies as a dog, saying he is just chasing after cars but wouldn't know what to do if he caught one. Other characters frequently refer to the Joker as having been "let off the leash" as well.

Reminded me that I have been meaning to write something up about Self's self identification p. 193

Where would

I

be in Animal Farm? One of the rats, I thought at first. But- oh, go easy on yourself, try and go a little bit easy. Now, after mature considerations, I think I might have what it takes to be a dog. I

am

a dog. I am a dog at the seaside tethered to a fence while my master and mistress romp on the sands. I am bouncing, twisting, weeping, consuming myself. A dog can take the odd slap or kick. A slap you cal live with, as a dog. What's a kick? Look at the dogs in the street, how everything implicates them, how everything is their concern, how they race towards great discoveries. And imagine the grief, tethered to a fence when there is activity- and play, and thought and fascination- just beyond the holding rope.

and the beginning of the next paragraph Self describes America as "viciously mongrel" also by the way.

Self is chasing his ambitions, yet also tethered by them. By his avarice and superficiality and single mindedness. Yet he realizes this and admits it, and claims to want the play and thought just beyond his grasp.

so.... no one else has finished reading? Lan you still up for announcing a new selection on the 11th?

[landho]

Am mostly done--could finish tonight or tomorrow. Not much discussion on this book yet, however--should we wait to discuss more before I announce my selection? Or?

[habia]

Hm, I would say just announce when you are ready. It will take me a few days to get a copy of the new selection anyway, and I am always open to discussing the things we have read even after finishing with them.

I hope the lack of participation this month is neither a sign of decreasing interest in the Book Club nor due to a poor reading selection on my part!

[landho]

I am supposed to be announcing my book choice today. And I will.

I am going to read a chapter in this book first and announce later tonight. Sorry to keep everyone waiting!

[cjbreed]

Am mostly done--could finish tonight or tomorrow. Not much discussion on this book yet, however--should we wait to discuss more before I announce my selection? Or?

I've actually not finished Money, but last night I was thinking it would be ok with me to just skip to landho's choice. I just never found the time to dive into Money. I'm hoping this next one will force me to find time...

[landho]

We will be reading Children of the Alley, by Nobel Prize–winning author Naguib Mahfouz, called the Arabic Proust.

The other book I was considering was Real World, by Natsuo Kirino. I loved Out, which I consider to be the best thriller I've ever read (although I am not a thriller kind of guy, I think that Out transcends the genre). (Grotesque, on the other hand, was disappointing, but a lot of that I think had to do with the quality of the translation.) Real World was translated by Philip Gabriel, who translated a number of Haruki Murakami's works.

If anyone (habia and cjbreed?) would strongly prefer to read Real World, I can be persuaded to change my mind.

[habia]

Children of the Alley sounds good to me. Local library has it on shelf so I can pick it up tomorrow.

I'll look for Out as well.

[cjbreed]

landho - i think i'd be ok with Children of the Alley, but should we read the Children of Gebelaawi translation??

[landho]

Would love to read the Stewart translation (I've read part of the Theorux translation, published as Children of the Alley), but I don't think it's widely available.

If all of us participating can get a hold of the Stewart translation, then we should probably use that. The Theroux translations reads well and has generally been well received. I think it should more than serve our purposes.

Thoughts?

[fallen angels]

aww.. no Real World ?