Not quite sure what to make of this one. To say I enjoyed it would be an overstatement, but I finished it (not always the case lately) and certainly invested in the characters and their stories. The writing is classy, erudite and mostly impressive, albeit the dialogue is occasionally clunky - I couldn't imagine anyone uttering some of the tortured, over-considered, complex sentences Craig puts in her characters' mouths.
Briefly, this follows a loosely related cast of privileged ciphers (with the odd exception) as they negotiate their way through the literary London of the 90s. Sniping and bitching, they sleep with or yearn for each other, brazenly displaying their intellectual snobbery, social ambition and heartlessness along the way. Craig briefly departs to tell us the story of Grace, a 20 year old black woman living in an horrific council flat in north London with her beloved son. She, alone, possesses the empathy and wisdom the others manifestly lack, but although her story is told with surprising authenticity, I found it condescending, as though only the socially deprived can truly possess a heart of gold and see people for what they are. Eventually, the two strands dovetail, albeit to no great effect. I should add that Craig is also surprisingly impressive at portraying the casual daily horror of working in an east London NHS hospital short on funds and dangerously overstretched.
My abiding grump here is that there are so few sympathetic characters, least of all the press baron, Max du Monde, a monster unabashedly modelled on Robert Maxwell. Indeed, I suspect Craig's characters are all based on people she has known on the London journalistic and literary scenes, in which case, poor her. Ultimately, I didn't care about anyone, not even Grace. He ends up with her, he dies, he gets his come-uppance, she discovers humility et cetera. So what?