I’ve read and enjoyed a number of Martin Amis’s books, but I’ve had to force myself to stay with this one.
You can never fault Amis’s writing, but the tone is just unpleasant from start to finish, like the thoughts of a man who not only hates himself, but one who despises every other person in the world as well.
It’s like being in the company of the most odious, self-entitled, foul-smelling, tobacco-stained, mean-spirited uncle at a wedding who keeps telling you how he deserved more out of life and is utterly jealous of and mean-spirited to the better people in the room.
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