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mindracer's review against another edition
dark
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.0
unfoldingdrama's review against another edition
dark
funny
mysterious
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.5
brontebucket's review against another edition
4.0
Loved this different crime story set within the expat, gated communities of Costa del Spain. Suggests a dark underbelly if Crime and drug-taking hidden behind the sunshine. Charles was a good character.
clairesbeat's review against another edition
dark
mysterious
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
tura's review
adventurous
challenging
dark
mysterious
reflective
relaxing
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
cnyreader's review against another edition
4.0
I didn't know what to expect from a book titled "Cocaine Nights", so I was surprised when I really, really liked it. Charles' brother, Frank, has been accused of multiple murders in a tiny resort town in Spain and has pleaded guilty. Charles travels to the town to investigate what happened for himself, knowing his brother could not have harmed anyone, let alone killed several people. Estrella de Mar is a thriving, exciting town with an interesting cast of characters. Charles falls into the charms of some of the more charismatic among those characters and the result is a dive into this murder mystery, way down into the dark underbelly of what drives us all to have "successful" society.
If this book isn't a movie, it needs to be. I loved the slowly unfolding plot lines- slow enough that it builds anticipation, but not too slow that it's frustrating. The characters really were fascinating and it's left to the reader to decide who's telling the truth, if such a thing really exists.
Food: This is a murder mystery dinner. As the courses go on, more clues are revealed, and all the food is themed to go with the dinner. Dessert is served with rich, dark port and carried in under a cloche, waiting until the last minute to be revealed as...
If this book isn't a movie, it needs to be. I loved the slowly unfolding plot lines- slow enough that it builds anticipation, but not too slow that it's frustrating. The characters really were fascinating and it's left to the reader to decide who's telling the truth, if such a thing really exists.
Food: This is a murder mystery dinner. As the courses go on, more clues are revealed, and all the food is themed to go with the dinner. Dessert is served with rich, dark port and carried in under a cloche, waiting until the last minute to be revealed as...
chiaroscuro's review against another edition
3.0
The argument goes: society is falling apart, and the only thing which can rebuild it is crime. Crime wakes people up and ignites community spirit when it's committed against them. When it's committed by them, it binds them together, and communities are solidified for good. "Crime and creativity go together, and always have done. The greater the sense of crime, the greater the civic awareness and richer the civilisation." Examples given are Shakespeare's London and Medici Florence, where unfortunately crime and corruption were indeed rife.
So the experiment is set up and is a roaring success. People's houses get trashed, and in response local gym memberships go through the roof. Then in case you find yourself too seduced by this perfect community, drugs, illicit sex and whatever else flood in.We end with a murder.
I find the easiest thing to do when faced with a terrifying dystopia is to mock it: lighten the mood, remove the load; in other words, to not engage with its logic. I am horrified that I found myself understanding the crime => community argument as it was explained to me. Fallacies, led by correlation is not causation and all the rest of it, do come to light now that I've finished the book. But existing within the world of the book, I can see myself falling into the trap as our earnest and weak-willed narrator and supporting the crime-driven community at any cost. I suppose that's a testament to the imaginative strength of this novel. Or, alternatively, my own susceptibility.
What I mean to say with that casual self-deprecation, other than the fact that I am cool and self-aware, is that this was not exactly a wholly engrossing read. For starters, the young, complicated doctor with whom Charles inevitably has sex with is named the rather unconvincing Paula. The narrative voice in general is a bit dull and possibly high on one of those drugs which make you sleepy and careless. And on the one hand this is seedy, senseless realism (the drug addictions, the frayed relationship with Paula) but on the other, the very neat resolution of the murder produces a rounded off with a sleep effect that chafes against the grittiness so much of the book stands for.
For me, the main takeaway from this book is that I will not be joining the cult of Ballard. Give me nineteenth century omniscient narrators and petty failures by forgivable characters. I don't like this civilisation-is-heading-towards-the-big-sleep pessimism, where all female characters are inevitably described in terms of their sexuality and there's no warmth, only coolness. No one in this book knows how to be happy, and they don't care to learn either. The best criticism they have for being happy is that it's bourgeois — which is stupid. And George Eliot would agree with me.
Two stars seems harsh because of the sheer conviction with which Ballard constructs the whole crime-driven community thing, but neither do I want to imply I liked this. 2.5-3 will have to do.
So the experiment is set up and is a roaring success. People's houses get trashed, and in response local gym memberships go through the roof. Then in case you find yourself too seduced by this perfect community, drugs, illicit sex and whatever else flood in.
I find the easiest thing to do when faced with a terrifying dystopia is to mock it: lighten the mood, remove the load; in other words, to not engage with its logic. I am horrified that I found myself understanding the crime => community argument as it was explained to me. Fallacies, led by correlation is not causation and all the rest of it, do come to light now that I've finished the book. But existing within the world of the book, I can see myself falling into the trap as our earnest and weak-willed narrator and supporting the crime-driven community at any cost. I suppose that's a testament to the imaginative strength of this novel. Or, alternatively, my own susceptibility.
What I mean to say with that casual self-deprecation, other than the fact that I am cool and self-aware, is that this was not exactly a wholly engrossing read. For starters, the young, complicated doctor with whom Charles inevitably has sex with is named the rather unconvincing Paula. The narrative voice in general is a bit dull and possibly high on one of those drugs which make you sleepy and careless. And on the one hand this is seedy, senseless realism (the drug addictions, the frayed relationship with Paula) but on the other, the very neat resolution of the murder produces a rounded off with a sleep effect that chafes against the grittiness so much of the book stands for.
For me, the main takeaway from this book is that I will not be joining the cult of Ballard. Give me nineteenth century omniscient narrators and petty failures by forgivable characters. I don't like this civilisation-is-heading-towards-the-big-sleep pessimism, where all female characters are inevitably described in terms of their sexuality and there's no warmth, only coolness. No one in this book knows how to be happy, and they don't care to learn either. The best criticism they have for being happy is that it's bourgeois — which is stupid. And George Eliot would agree with me.
Two stars seems harsh because of the sheer conviction with which Ballard constructs the whole crime-driven community thing, but neither do I want to imply I liked this. 2.5-3 will have to do.
ania's review against another edition
4.0
kept reminding me of Fight Club - it explores a similar theme.
thedinginator's review
2.0
Considering I picked up this novel as a 14 year old, thinking I was really edgy for owning a book about drugs, I'm glad that I had read and adored other Ballard before finally completing it, 16 years later. This book is in no way his best, but it still - just about - held my interest until the end.
I think where this booked failed for me was that the philosophies and description of the book's dystopia was delivered via the mouthpiece of Bobby Crawford. They were the coked up rants of a mad man, easy to dismiss. Why so many characters, including the protagonist, fell under his spell (or did they?) was quite shocking to me.
Compared to High Rise or Crash, where the dystopia doesn't have to be explained by a character and instead just is - leaving the reader sickened and dizzy at the alienation - Cocaine Nights fell really far short. If I want to debate the future of retirement homes in the sun with an evangelical drug pusher and pimp, I'll start hanging out in Ibiza more.
I think where this booked failed for me was that the philosophies and description of the book's dystopia was delivered via the mouthpiece of Bobby Crawford. They were the coked up rants of a mad man, easy to dismiss. Why so many characters, including the protagonist, fell under his spell (or did they?) was quite shocking to me.
Compared to High Rise or Crash, where the dystopia doesn't have to be explained by a character and instead just is - leaving the reader sickened and dizzy at the alienation - Cocaine Nights fell really far short. If I want to debate the future of retirement homes in the sun with an evangelical drug pusher and pimp, I'll start hanging out in Ibiza more.