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3.69 AVERAGE
3.69 AVERAGE
Like Tom Wolfe in Henry James's clothing--the narrator is supposed to be someone on whom nothing is lost, but the observations are stock, not nuanced. And the Jamesian disguise comes off entirely after the "J'accuse!" of the first novel is done with.
I bought the omnibus edition of four novels, but this, Never Mind, was the only readable one. It's easy to imagine that he had to write it: the acid depictions of sadist father and despairing, complicit mother; the creation of a certain kind of distanced, aestheticized observation as the only possible escape. But those are his only two characters of any interest; the rest are pure Tom Wolfe, skewered as being exactly what their income and consumption and aspirations determine them to be.
I bought the omnibus edition of four novels, but this, Never Mind, was the only readable one. It's easy to imagine that he had to write it: the acid depictions of sadist father and despairing, complicit mother; the creation of a certain kind of distanced, aestheticized observation as the only possible escape. But those are his only two characters of any interest; the rest are pure Tom Wolfe, skewered as being exactly what their income and consumption and aspirations determine them to be.
Told in a tautly written style, Never Mind is an horrific but sometimes comic portrayal of David and Eleanor Melrose and their friends on the Côte d'Azur over the course of one day. The book reveals extremes of snobbery and savagery that belie their supposedly respectable lives, hinting at the damage it is doing to the Melrose's son, Patrick - the protagonist in the following four novels in the Patrick Melrose series.
dark
reflective
slow-paced
Oh, these people. I hated them all. This is a tough read and not just because of the awful people, but because of the life five-year-old Patrick is living. Despite that it is wonderfully written and I read it in two days. I wasn't sure that all these people in one room could actually not have one redeeming feature between them, but maybe I just haven't met people like this is real life. I'm going to need a gap to catch my breath before I read the next one.
Such awful, awful people. So well done. I think I'll carry on with the second one, but will need a break after that.
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I watched HBO’s critically acclaimed TV series, Succession, a few months ago. Even though I am now fully invested in the pitch-black drama-dy and its characters, it’s a tough show to like, let alone recommend. Its sharp, rusty edges are constantly pushing viewers away, defying their interest and daring them to root for or, god forbid, relate to any of the pompous, upper class assholes — and this book is kind of like that.
Patrick Melrose, the protagonist, the only child in this book and the character that’s based on St. Aubyn himself, is the only innocent party here. Everybody else, from his physically and emotionally abusive parents to their appalling, self-important, self-indulgent dinner guests, are unlikeable and abhorrent. Part of this is St Aubyn’s criticism of the English upper class and the pretentiousness of it all. What keeps this book going for me, though, is the unexpected humour, despite the fact that at the core of the story is a horrific event that will surely traumatise our protagonist in the years (and books) to come.
St. Aubyn is a craftsman, and no word is wasted here. Everything is precise and focused. The wit here, too, is bone dry. It does, however, feel like the first chapters of a larger story, and doesn’t stand quite well on its own. Too much attention is paid to the horrific dinner guests, which means the reader spends a lot of time with nasty, nasty people. But I am intrigued enough to give the next book in the series a go, and that’s always a good sign — even if I am here with a morbid fascination to watch the house burn.
I watched HBO’s critically acclaimed TV series, Succession, a few months ago. Even though I am now fully invested in the pitch-black drama-dy and its characters, it’s a tough show to like, let alone recommend. Its sharp, rusty edges are constantly pushing viewers away, defying their interest and daring them to root for or, god forbid, relate to any of the pompous, upper class assholes — and this book is kind of like that.
Patrick Melrose, the protagonist, the only child in this book and the character that’s based on St. Aubyn himself, is the only innocent party here. Everybody else, from his physically and emotionally abusive parents to their appalling, self-important, self-indulgent dinner guests, are unlikeable and abhorrent. Part of this is St Aubyn’s criticism of the English upper class and the pretentiousness of it all. What keeps this book going for me, though, is the unexpected humour, despite the fact that at the core of the story is a horrific event that will surely traumatise our protagonist in the years (and books) to come.
St. Aubyn is a craftsman, and no word is wasted here. Everything is precise and focused. The wit here, too, is bone dry. It does, however, feel like the first chapters of a larger story, and doesn’t stand quite well on its own. Too much attention is paid to the horrific dinner guests, which means the reader spends a lot of time with nasty, nasty people. But I am intrigued enough to give the next book in the series a go, and that’s always a good sign — even if I am here with a morbid fascination to watch the house burn.
The first Patrick Melrose came highly recommended and did not disappoint. Viciously brilliant, it has the kind of sentences that are so good you'll want to memorize them. It has Waugh and Wodehouse but with a darkness all its own. I'd love people to find this book and I'm looking forward to the next four.
challenging
dark
emotional
funny
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
dark
tense
medium-paced