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Spring: A Novel by David Szalay
The U.S. debut of leading U.K. author David Szalay, named one of The Daily Telegraph's twenty best British novelists under fortyJames is a man with a checkered past—sporadic entrepreneur, one-time film producer, almost a dot-com millionaire—now alone in a flat in Bloomsbury, running a shady horse-racing-tips operation. Katherine is a manager at a luxury hotel, a job she'd intended to leave years ago, and is separated from her husband. The novel unfolds in 2006, at the end of the money-for-nothing years, as a chance meeting leads to an awkward tryst and James tries to make sense of a relationship where "no" means "maybe" and a "yes" can never be taken for granted.David Szalay builds a novel of immense resonance as he cycles though perspectives that add layers of depth to the hesitations, missteps, and tensions as James tries to win Katherine. James's other pursuit is money, and Spring follows his investments and schemes, from a half share in a thoroughbred to a suit-and-tie day job he's taken to pay the bills. Spring is a sharply tuned novel so nuanced and precise in its psychology that it establishes Szalay as a major talent.
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First published March 3, 2011
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About the author
David Szalay
15 books811 followersDavid Szalay (born 1974 in Montreal, Quebec) is an English writer.
He was born in Canada, moved to the UK the following year and has lived there ever since. He studied at Oxford University and has written a number of radio dramas for the BBC.
He won the Betty Trask Award for his first novel, London and the South-East, along with the Geoffrey Faber Memorial Prize. Since then he has written two other novels: Innocent (2009) and Spring (2011).
He has also recently been named one of The Telegraph's Top 20 British Writers Under 40 and has also made it onto Granta magazine's 2013 list of the Best of Young British Novelists.
A fourth novel All That Man Is was longlisted for The Man Booker Prize 2016.
He was runner-up of the Booker Prize for All That Man Is, and winner 2025 with Flesh.
He was born in Canada, moved to the UK the following year and has lived there ever since. He studied at Oxford University and has written a number of radio dramas for the BBC.
He won the Betty Trask Award for his first novel, London and the South-East, along with the Geoffrey Faber Memorial Prize. Since then he has written two other novels: Innocent (2009) and Spring (2011).
He has also recently been named one of The Telegraph's Top 20 British Writers Under 40 and has also made it onto Granta magazine's 2013 list of the Best of Young British Novelists.
A fourth novel All That Man Is was longlisted for The Man Booker Prize 2016.
He was runner-up of the Booker Prize for All That Man Is, and winner 2025 with Flesh.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 96 reviews
May 24, 2025
PUNTA DI SPILLO
Jan van Eyck: Madonna del canonico van der Paele (Museo Groeninge, Bruges)
Ecco come leggere un buon romanzo, scritto senza dubbio bene da uno scrittore di razza, con ottimo mestiere e sincera ispirazione, ecco come divertirsi, arrivare perfino a sentirne la mancanza dopo averlo lasciato riposare almeno di notte, e non capirne il senso: perché proprio questa storia, perché questi personaggi, che senso ha il tutto?
Tutto un seguirsi e un inseguirsi senza mai incontrarsi, nonostante i baci e il sesso, più che goduto - anche se entrambi sembrano soprattutto farlo con se stessi. Il trionfo del tempo condizionale, dell’incertezza, dell’indistinto, esplosione di sfumature. Mi aspettavo che da un momento all’altro qualcuno si lamentasse con un “Mi fanno male i capelli”: ma così non è stato. Anche se ci siamo andati vicino. La punta di uno spillo.
Ansel Adams: Clearing Winter Storm, Yosemite National Park (1937)
I personaggi sono tre, ma mi verrebbe da dire che i protagonisti sono davvero solo James e Katherine, due trentenni: e qui scatterebbe l’etichetta “millennial”; se non che questo romanzo è del 2011 (il terzo di Szalay) e precede le due riuscite raccolte di racconti che lo hanno lanciato – canadese e inglese che vive a Budapest – qui da noi (Tutto quello che è un uomo, e Turbolenze). Quindi sia lui che lei sono a cavallo tra la Generazione X e i millennial, più probabilmente la prima.
Il titolo ci dice che è primavera, ma è difficile ritrovarla sulle pagine: pioviggina, i caminetti sono ancora accesi, le dita delle mani si intirizziscono, per terra c’è spesso fango, la luce è incerta, indefinita, più spesso smorta e grigia che viva e brillante.
Edwin Landseer: The Monarch of the Glen, 1851
Lei lavora in un grande albergo di lusso, è la responsabile della reception: vuol fare esperienza in attesa di gestire un giorno un albergo tutto suo in una località turistica di mare. Divide un appartamentino con un’altra ragazza. È bella, decisamente bella.
Lui ha mollato gli studi per dedicarsi a mille imprese, investe soldi suoi e di altri: a un certo punto della sua vita con una start up era diventato tra gli uomini più ricchi d’Inghilterra, ma poi la bolla s’è sgonfiata e ha perso tutto. Non se ne preoccupa, era comunque tutto virtuale, tanto aveva all’inizio e tanto si è ritrovato alla fine, e ora s’arrangia con la proprietà di un cavallo e scommettendo sulle corse. Conosce sia la polvere che l’altare.
Ma il miglior modo per definire entrambi lo si legge a pagina 272:
come un sacchetto di plastica portato dal vento.
Paolo Veronese: Marte, Venere e Cupido, 1575 - 1580
Poco più avanti si legge quello che sembra essere il problema principale per entrambi, anche se Szalay pare volerlo riferire solo a lui, James:
Gli sembrava, adesso, di non aver mai “sentito” abbastanza. Nei momenti importanti c’era sempre stata un’insufficienza del sentire… Semplicemente, gli sembrava di non aver sentito abbastanza proprio quando la cosa più necessaria era sentire. A farlo star male era proprio la sensazione di fallimento del sentire, non dell’esprimere. Un uomo incapace di “esprimere” i suoi sentimenti: normalità da rivista, niente di cui preoccuparsi. Un uomo incapace di “sentire” i suoi sentimenti. Bè, quello suonava molto peggio.
Piero della Francesca: Natività (prima e dopo il recente restauro), 1470-1475, National Gallery, Londra.
Poi c’è Fraser, l’ex marito di Katherine, paparazzo con la passione per la fotografia paesaggistica: ma la prima lo mantiene, la seconda si rivela una velleità. Lei lo ha mollato quando ha scoperto che la tradiva. Ma sono solo separati, e ancora sposati, e lui vuole riprovarci: lei ci crede per il tempo di un weekend, poi capisce che l’amore è morto.
Ci sono anche altri personaggi, ma, come dicevo prima, il clou gira intorno ai due trentenni, James e Katherine, alla loro storia, alla impressione di lui di essere innamorato di lei, alla incapacità di lei di ricambiare l’apparente sentimento di lui. Un su e giù di sentimenti che non vanno mai a parare da nessuna parte.
Jan van Eyck: Ritratto dei coniugi Arnolfini, 1434 (National Gallery, Londra.) Questo dipinto, e gli altri che precedono sono nominati e descritti nel romanzo.
Jan van Eyck: Madonna del canonico van der Paele (Museo Groeninge, Bruges)
Ecco come leggere un buon romanzo, scritto senza dubbio bene da uno scrittore di razza, con ottimo mestiere e sincera ispirazione, ecco come divertirsi, arrivare perfino a sentirne la mancanza dopo averlo lasciato riposare almeno di notte, e non capirne il senso: perché proprio questa storia, perché questi personaggi, che senso ha il tutto?
Tutto un seguirsi e un inseguirsi senza mai incontrarsi, nonostante i baci e il sesso, più che goduto - anche se entrambi sembrano soprattutto farlo con se stessi. Il trionfo del tempo condizionale, dell’incertezza, dell’indistinto, esplosione di sfumature. Mi aspettavo che da un momento all’altro qualcuno si lamentasse con un “Mi fanno male i capelli”: ma così non è stato. Anche se ci siamo andati vicino. La punta di uno spillo.
Ansel Adams: Clearing Winter Storm, Yosemite National Park (1937)
I personaggi sono tre, ma mi verrebbe da dire che i protagonisti sono davvero solo James e Katherine, due trentenni: e qui scatterebbe l’etichetta “millennial”; se non che questo romanzo è del 2011 (il terzo di Szalay) e precede le due riuscite raccolte di racconti che lo hanno lanciato – canadese e inglese che vive a Budapest – qui da noi (Tutto quello che è un uomo, e Turbolenze). Quindi sia lui che lei sono a cavallo tra la Generazione X e i millennial, più probabilmente la prima.
Il titolo ci dice che è primavera, ma è difficile ritrovarla sulle pagine: pioviggina, i caminetti sono ancora accesi, le dita delle mani si intirizziscono, per terra c’è spesso fango, la luce è incerta, indefinita, più spesso smorta e grigia che viva e brillante.
Edwin Landseer: The Monarch of the Glen, 1851
Lei lavora in un grande albergo di lusso, è la responsabile della reception: vuol fare esperienza in attesa di gestire un giorno un albergo tutto suo in una località turistica di mare. Divide un appartamentino con un’altra ragazza. È bella, decisamente bella.
Lui ha mollato gli studi per dedicarsi a mille imprese, investe soldi suoi e di altri: a un certo punto della sua vita con una start up era diventato tra gli uomini più ricchi d’Inghilterra, ma poi la bolla s’è sgonfiata e ha perso tutto. Non se ne preoccupa, era comunque tutto virtuale, tanto aveva all’inizio e tanto si è ritrovato alla fine, e ora s’arrangia con la proprietà di un cavallo e scommettendo sulle corse. Conosce sia la polvere che l’altare.
Ma il miglior modo per definire entrambi lo si legge a pagina 272:
come un sacchetto di plastica portato dal vento.
Paolo Veronese: Marte, Venere e Cupido, 1575 - 1580
Poco più avanti si legge quello che sembra essere il problema principale per entrambi, anche se Szalay pare volerlo riferire solo a lui, James:
Gli sembrava, adesso, di non aver mai “sentito” abbastanza. Nei momenti importanti c’era sempre stata un’insufficienza del sentire… Semplicemente, gli sembrava di non aver sentito abbastanza proprio quando la cosa più necessaria era sentire. A farlo star male era proprio la sensazione di fallimento del sentire, non dell’esprimere. Un uomo incapace di “esprimere” i suoi sentimenti: normalità da rivista, niente di cui preoccuparsi. Un uomo incapace di “sentire” i suoi sentimenti. Bè, quello suonava molto peggio.
Piero della Francesca: Natività (prima e dopo il recente restauro), 1470-1475, National Gallery, Londra.
Poi c’è Fraser, l’ex marito di Katherine, paparazzo con la passione per la fotografia paesaggistica: ma la prima lo mantiene, la seconda si rivela una velleità. Lei lo ha mollato quando ha scoperto che la tradiva. Ma sono solo separati, e ancora sposati, e lui vuole riprovarci: lei ci crede per il tempo di un weekend, poi capisce che l’amore è morto.
Ci sono anche altri personaggi, ma, come dicevo prima, il clou gira intorno ai due trentenni, James e Katherine, alla loro storia, alla impressione di lui di essere innamorato di lei, alla incapacità di lei di ricambiare l’apparente sentimento di lui. Un su e giù di sentimenti che non vanno mai a parare da nessuna parte.
Jan van Eyck: Ritratto dei coniugi Arnolfini, 1434 (National Gallery, Londra.) Questo dipinto, e gli altri che precedono sono nominati e descritti nel romanzo.
May 13, 2012
An unconventional novel in the tradition of realism, and I'll take David Szalay over Jonathan Franzen any day. The subjects are romantic love, money, social class. At the heart of the novel is the relationship between Katherine and James, which though many months in, still feels like early days. James is maddeningly passive, inert. And yet...
Horse racing also figures in. Not a lot happens in terms of a traditionally constructed plot, it seems Szalay is trying more for the ebb and flow of real life, business, and affairs. The writing is exquisite. You do need to be patient but there is a pay off if you are. Original in its construction.
Horse racing also figures in. Not a lot happens in terms of a traditionally constructed plot, it seems Szalay is trying more for the ebb and flow of real life, business, and affairs. The writing is exquisite. You do need to be patient but there is a pay off if you are. Original in its construction.
April 7, 2012
Won this as an advanced reader copy through Goodreads -- I have mixed feelings about this book. It is about a guy and a girl who start a relationship while she has been separated from her husband for over a year. What I liked about this book was how real it was. Everything was presented in this book like it would have happened in a real relationship in real life. Many books try for this but fail to achieve it. However, there were many things I didn't like about this book. The reader never gets a glimpse into why these people even started a relationship; if there was ever a glow or spark. I'm sure there was, but you never see it. You are only introduced to them after they have started the relationship and you only read about them struggling, trying to make it work, and not understanding where the other person in the relationship is coming from. The girl never really seems that interested in him, so I could never figure out why she even hooked up with him to begin with. The whole time I kept thinking, "What did they even see in the other person to begin with?" and my question was NEVER answered. Because there was already some sort of chasm in the relationship when we meet the characters and we never actually get a flashback scene or the narrator explaining the start of the relationship, I found myself not really caring that much if they could make the relationship work or not. On top of this, the author would also go into tangents about some side characters who don't play that big of a part to the plot. I found myself SO BORED during those few times. So unnecessary. Overall, I was glad when I finished the book, so I wouldn't have to read it anymore.
November 7, 2011
This is a very sly book. Initially it starts out as a chick lit romance with a incomprehensibly smitten man and a unusually reluctant but permissive woman, but as the story unfolds, their ;motivations prove not so clearcut. Katherine and James meet at a wedding and embark on a frustrating, inconclusive affair. The reasons for attraction are unclear and not fully explained, but each has histories that are explained in retrospect. He is not quite the pushover he seems, and her attraction remains somewhat elusive. Neither is completely sympathetic or likable, but this makes them more interesting to read about as long as the reader doesn't have to look upon them as friends. What I enjoyed most were the ancillary characters, many of which were more interesting than the two at the plot's center. Backgrounds of hangers on, friends and associates make for some compelling narration, and at times the plot would dogleg into uncharted territory. By book's end I was glad I had stayed with it. Szalay has a true talent for dialogue and almost a Proustian sensibility for sensuous detail. Many references are made to the unique light of London, particularly during this rainy spring when the book is set The reader can see, feel and smell the atmosphere.
August 14, 2019
Around two thirds of this was very good - astute and beautifully observed descriptions of the relationship between two flawed people in London, very saddening and slightly frustrating at times, but with merit and aspects that will resonate with other readers as it did with myself. The miserable nature did leave me a little dissatisfied, but it was an involving and interesting story in that sense.
I found the remainder - poorly delineated flashbacks, nostalgia, changes in POV and time - irritating. I got nothing from descriptions of people with more money than sense wasting their (and my) time on flights of fancy and get rich quick schemes. I cared little for too much of this shirt novel as a consequence, sharp contrast with the ordinary realism of a man and a woman not communicating with each other and struggling to find a balance between fun and contentment.
Oh and the author over-used the word ‘evanescence’, which jarred.
I found the remainder - poorly delineated flashbacks, nostalgia, changes in POV and time - irritating. I got nothing from descriptions of people with more money than sense wasting their (and my) time on flights of fancy and get rich quick schemes. I cared little for too much of this shirt novel as a consequence, sharp contrast with the ordinary realism of a man and a woman not communicating with each other and struggling to find a balance between fun and contentment.
Oh and the author over-used the word ‘evanescence’, which jarred.
December 10, 2017
Ο James ασχολείται με επιχειρήσεις από τα 17 του. Σύντομα θα γίνει εκατομμυριούχος αλλά με τη φούσκα του χρηματιστηρίου θα χάσει τα πάντα. H Katherine δουλεύει στη ρεσεψιόν ένος ακριβού ξενοδοχείου στο κέντρο του Λονδίνου. Ξεκίνησε προσωρινά εκεί με σκοπό σύντομα να ανοίξει ένα δικό της μικρό ξενοδοχείο. Στη δουλειά θα ερωτευτεί κ κατόπιν θα παντρευτεί έναν γοητευτικό παπαράτσι. Το βιβλίο βρίσκει τους δύο πρωταγωνιστές σε άσχημη περίοδο. Η Katherine είναι χωρισμένη εδώ κ ένα χρόνο κ ο James προσπαθεί να βρει πάλι τα πατήματά του αγοράζοντας ένα αγωνιστικό άλογο.
Στο βιβλίο αυτό έπεσα κάπως στην τύχη. Μου έκαναν δώρο νωρίτερα μες τη χρονιά το επόμενο του βιβλίο που κατέληξε στην longlist του περσινού Booker (All That Man Is) κ μόλις πέτυχα σχεδόν τζάμπα το Spring το πήρα με σκοπό να ξεκινήσω από εδώ. Η αλήθεια είναι πως πολλά από αυτά που περίμενα τα βρήκα. Ο Szalay είναι καλός συγγραφέας κ η ιστορία είναι απόλυτα ρεαλιστική κ κατ'επέκταση ανθρώπινη. Οι χαρακτήρες αναπτύσσονται με πολύ ωραίο τρόπο (όχι μόνο οι δύο πρωταγωνιστές αλλά κ οι δορυφόροι γύρω τους, με αποκορύφωμα τον συνέταιρο του James, Freddy) κ σε γενικές γραμμές το βιβλίο κυλάει γρήγορα.
Δυστυχώς όμως τίποτα δεν ξεχωρίζει πραγματικά εδώ. Ο Szalay φαίνεται να πιστεύει ο ρεαλισμός φτάνει για να ταυτιστεί ο αναγνώστης. Προσωπικά αυτό που κατάφερε ήταν απλά να μην μου περάσει απ'το μυαλό να το παρατήσω. Εν τέλει, χωρίς να είναι κακό βιβλίο δεν είναι κ κάτι που θα πρότεινα κάπου, ίσως μόνο στους περίεργους που θέλουν να εξερευνήσουν άγγλους συγγραφείς που έχουν καλό όνομα στη χώρα τους αλλά δύσκολα θα μεταφραστούν ποτέ στα ελληνικά. Δεν ξέρω πως ακριβώς μεταφράζονται τα παραπάνω, ας πούμε:
2,5*
Υ.Γ. Ωραίο φινάλε πάντως.
Στο βιβλίο αυτό έπεσα κάπως στην τύχη. Μου έκαναν δώρο νωρίτερα μες τη χρονιά το επόμενο του βιβλίο που κατέληξε στην longlist του περσινού Booker (All That Man Is) κ μόλις πέτυχα σχεδόν τζάμπα το Spring το πήρα με σκοπό να ξεκινήσω από εδώ. Η αλήθεια είναι πως πολλά από αυτά που περίμενα τα βρήκα. Ο Szalay είναι καλός συγγραφέας κ η ιστορία είναι απόλυτα ρεαλιστική κ κατ'επέκταση ανθρώπινη. Οι χαρακτήρες αναπτύσσονται με πολύ ωραίο τρόπο (όχι μόνο οι δύο πρωταγωνιστές αλλά κ οι δορυφόροι γύρω τους, με αποκορύφωμα τον συνέταιρο του James, Freddy) κ σε γενικές γραμμές το βιβλίο κυλάει γρήγορα.
Δυστυχώς όμως τίποτα δεν ξεχωρίζει πραγματικά εδώ. Ο Szalay φαίνεται να πιστεύει ο ρεαλισμός φτάνει για να ταυτιστεί ο αναγνώστης. Προσωπικά αυτό που κατάφερε ήταν απλά να μην μου περάσει απ'το μυαλό να το παρατήσω. Εν τέλει, χωρίς να είναι κακό βιβλίο δεν είναι κ κάτι που θα πρότεινα κάπου, ίσως μόνο στους περίεργους που θέλουν να εξερευνήσουν άγγλους συγγραφείς που έχουν καλό όνομα στη χώρα τους αλλά δύσκολα θα μεταφραστούν ποτέ στα ελληνικά. Δεν ξέρω πως ακριβώς μεταφράζονται τα παραπάνω, ας πούμε:
2,5*
Υ.Γ. Ωραίο φινάλε πάντως.
August 26, 2015
read a few pieces from D. Szalay that intrigued me a lot - his story youth from The Paris review and the excerpt from Granta - so I decided to try his most well known novel (and the only one published in the US so far); quite readable and generally keeping my interest but ultimately kind of meh, why did I bother sort; still liked the writing quite a lot so I plan to see if his next book (or story) is more interesting as this one would have made a great novella/story but kind of fails at novel (even short) length by not having much to say
March 8, 2012
I gave up with 100 pages to go. Our main narrator is a sad sap who you just wish would make a decent decision. I didn't want to spend time with him and I couldn't see why Katherine didn't cut him loose. The point of view is totally unbalanced and what made me finally throw in the towel was when the POV shifted 160 some pages in to a character we'd never even met before.
February 23, 2023
È stata una sorpresa e una gioia trovare in biblioteca, sul banco delle novità, un nuovo libro di Szalay, uno dei miei autori contemporanei preferiti; per la prima volta un romanzo, dopo tanti splendidi racconti. (C’è anche un romanzo precedente, The Innocent, ma mai tradotto in Italia). L’autore però è ‘scaduto’ da Adelphi a LiberiLibri: gli editori sono avidi, ho pensato, probabilmente non ha venduto abbastanza con i primi libri, così Adelphi l’ha scaricato. Invece dopo averlo letto devo ammettere, con vivo dispiacere, che questo romanzo è pessimo. Non ho ritrovato nemmeno la scrittura di Szalay, nitida, limpida, affilata, elegante. E il soggetto… mah! Non è nemmeno chiaro quale sia, il soggetto. Abbiamo un ragazzo e una ragazza sui trent’anni. Si incontrano, vanno a letto insieme. Lui sembra innamorato, ma non formula pensieri romantici, è intimidito e non osa farsi avanti con intenzioni chiare. Lei è indecisa, un giorno ci sta e un giorno no, tentenna all’infinito, fa la misteriosa. Lui non chiede, lei si infastidisce perché lui non chiede e allora non dice. Quello che emerge è un quadro desolato di giovani che non sanno più fare all’amore, per usare un termine arcaico ma non ancora sostituito, perché paralizzati dalle nuove regole del vivere moderno, rispettosi della libertà altrui fino all’assurdo. A volte compare un personaggio secondario e lo seguiamo per qualche pagina, divagando, senza che la divagazione sia minimamente interessante o aggiunga nulla alla trama: abbozzi di ritratti.
Un romanzo inconsistente, che non va da nessuna parte. Sembra quasi impossibile che sia stato scritto dalla penna fulminante, acuta, poetica, direi quasi geniale, di Szalay. Sono in lutto.
Un romanzo inconsistente, che non va da nessuna parte. Sembra quasi impossibile che sia stato scritto dalla penna fulminante, acuta, poetica, direi quasi geniale, di Szalay. Sono in lutto.
March 6, 2014
No dedication.
Opening - London light in the scuffed, keyed windows of a Piccadilly-Line train from Heathrow. London light on the open spaces it hurries past, on the passing spokes of perdendicular suburban streets, on playing fields seen through a perimeter line of faint shadowed trees.
Cardboard cut-out Warning:
Read it all hoping that something was going to happen...
....it didn't
Opening - London light in the scuffed, keyed windows of a Piccadilly-Line train from Heathrow. London light on the open spaces it hurries past, on the passing spokes of perdendicular suburban streets, on playing fields seen through a perimeter line of faint shadowed trees.
Cardboard cut-out Warning:
Read it all hoping that something was going to happen...
....it didn't
September 18, 2016
found this book very similar in parts to on chesil beach by ian mcewan with details of a relationship going nowhere and both sides not really knowing their deeper feelings through insecurity and neediness
July 14, 2017
David Szalay’s 3rd novel is very much about contemporary life in London amongst a group of people whose obsessions with making money and forging relationships are often undermined by their own failings and uncertainties. James, a former dot-com entrepreneur, falls in love with Katherine, who although separated from her husband cannot quite break away from him and seems unable to commit to another relationship.
Szalay’s style is laconic and his use of short sentences – and often of verb-less sentences – reflect the somewhat superficial lives his characters inhabit. However, this rather distancing style leads the reader to feel distanced from the characters themselves and leads to a curiously flat reading experience. As a result I found I simply didn’t care about any of them, in the same way that they don’t seem to care about anyone or anything else much either. Although this may well be the intention of the writer, it didn’t recommend itself to me as an enjoyable reading experience.
Szalay’s style is laconic and his use of short sentences – and often of verb-less sentences – reflect the somewhat superficial lives his characters inhabit. However, this rather distancing style leads the reader to feel distanced from the characters themselves and leads to a curiously flat reading experience. As a result I found I simply didn’t care about any of them, in the same way that they don’t seem to care about anyone or anything else much either. Although this may well be the intention of the writer, it didn’t recommend itself to me as an enjoyable reading experience.
October 3, 2013
One of the 2013 Granta best young British novelists. I'd never heard of him so decided to try this, his most recent novel. Hmm. Just ok. The two main characters engaged in a doomed love affair at the center of the book are not terribly illuminated and the dialogue I found really immature. Here are two people in their thirties, with lots of life experience (marriages, career changes, far flung travel) and yet they seem unable to communicate with each other. Not in a profound difference of personality/chemistry mismatch - no that would be interesting but its page after page of 'do you want to meet up tomorrow' 'do you want to' 'what do you think' 'no what do you think' 'I'm not sure, call me later'. Frustrating, like listening in to a teenage cell phone call.
January 23, 2016
I didn't care for this one. It's the story of a love affair in London between two fairly passive people who don't seem to quite know what they want about anything. Neither of them are very likable. Random things happen as James, the man, wanders through life and Katherine, the woman, can't seem to make up her mind who she wants to be with. It ends with their future uncertain. Not very satisfying.
September 2, 2017
I'm a big fan - Szalay is funny, affecting, deeply intelligent, and makes novel-writing seem easy, but oh God, you know it's not.
April 7, 2018
Nailed it. I intend to buy several copies of this book for friends so we can devour it, discuss it, and then deny it bears any resemblance.
July 14, 2013
I read Spring in instalments over a fortnight during my commute between Richmond and Waterloo and I couldn’t wait to get on the train and start reading. I can’t tell you how much I love this novel. It’s a wonderful piece of writing, the prevailing tone most of subtle irony and understatement, but he led me also to places in my heart where I haven’t been for a long time. The love story seems real and both sides are told convincingly. It contains some of the best sex scenes (non-pornographic) I’ve ever read. I felt the range of characters could all be on train with me and I feel I’ve met some of them. And the comedy is brilliant, pure high literary comedy that when I started laughing I couldn’t stop, especially during the elopement scene. One of the best set pieces is at a UKP rally: you think it’s going to be a farce but it’s not and I finished the chapter with tears rolling down my cheeks. I want to give Nigel Farrage a hug—never thought a novel could make me want to do that.
My last word would be that this is a great London novel and it captures in some sublime moments. Here’s a random paragraph (Hugo is his St Bernard):
He slings the tennis ball in the twilight under the tree, slings it with all his strength, twisting his torso and whipping into the throw, trying to find the trajectory the will send Hugo over the still-wintery lawn. His exciting voice as he pursues it punctures the low moan of the traffic endlessly orbiting the square. Something is not ok. He is thinking again of that strange moment on Monday afternoon on the poolside. Something happened in Marrakech, something he does not know about. When they leave the square it is evening and the signs on the hotel fronts are illuminated.
David Szalay I love you. May you keep writing forever and I want to read every word.
My last word would be that this is a great London novel and it captures in some sublime moments. Here’s a random paragraph (Hugo is his St Bernard):
He slings the tennis ball in the twilight under the tree, slings it with all his strength, twisting his torso and whipping into the throw, trying to find the trajectory the will send Hugo over the still-wintery lawn. His exciting voice as he pursues it punctures the low moan of the traffic endlessly orbiting the square. Something is not ok. He is thinking again of that strange moment on Monday afternoon on the poolside. Something happened in Marrakech, something he does not know about. When they leave the square it is evening and the signs on the hotel fronts are illuminated.
David Szalay I love you. May you keep writing forever and I want to read every word.
February 10, 2018
I love David Szalay and have previously declared my willingness to fight anybody who disputes that he is both a fine writer and an important one, documenting a particular type of early 21st century suburban London shitness better than anybody I can think of. This remains my view, even whilst admitting that Spring is not his finest work. The storyline and perspective are all over the place and this would have been a much stronger book with more sustained focus on the central character James and the dodgy horse gambling syndicate in which he embroils himself. I know (having consumed his every public utterance with stalker-like insatiability) that David Szalay views it much the same way.
It's not all bad by any means. Szalay evokes hangovers so powerfully that you can almost smell them and is also particularly strong on the horrors of the professional middle class social gathering. There are echoes of the brilliantly characterised, directionless and needy male drifters that make the more accomplished London and the Southeast and All That Man Is so good. I was surprised to discover that Spring was Szalay's third novel to be published because it definitely has the feel of an early work of a writer developing towards bigger and better things.
It's not all bad by any means. Szalay evokes hangovers so powerfully that you can almost smell them and is also particularly strong on the horrors of the professional middle class social gathering. There are echoes of the brilliantly characterised, directionless and needy male drifters that make the more accomplished London and the Southeast and All That Man Is so good. I was surprised to discover that Spring was Szalay's third novel to be published because it definitely has the feel of an early work of a writer developing towards bigger and better things.
November 14, 2025
Must be my age - I hadn't realised I'd already given this second chance; a third read left me irritated and not especially admiring.
I expected something different from the blurb, something more frenetic perhaps.
Whether it was because of the contrast (which was why I chose to read this next)with the three fast-paced crime novels which had preceded my reading this) what I happily) got was a peaceful, somewhat disjointed, look at a 21st century, selfish, self-centred London couple trying to make a go of a relationship. In one way it was sad, in another an eye-opener that that's how folks are these days, but mostly what was so striking that for all their alien behaviour they nevertheless came over a very solid and real people, which is a credit to David Szalay's writing. The other characters were just as well-written and the indeterminate happenings a mirror of real life.
And, four years later, it's just as alien to me, and no less enjoyable. More impressive in that I see the strength of the tale, in the quietness of its drama
I expected something different from the blurb, something more frenetic perhaps.
Whether it was because of the contrast (which was why I chose to read this next)with the three fast-paced crime novels which had preceded my reading this) what I happily) got was a peaceful, somewhat disjointed, look at a 21st century, selfish, self-centred London couple trying to make a go of a relationship. In one way it was sad, in another an eye-opener that that's how folks are these days, but mostly what was so striking that for all their alien behaviour they nevertheless came over a very solid and real people, which is a credit to David Szalay's writing. The other characters were just as well-written and the indeterminate happenings a mirror of real life.
And, four years later, it's just as alien to me, and no less enjoyable. More impressive in that I see the strength of the tale, in the quietness of its drama
April 13, 2020
4 Miles 2 ½ Furlongs
It seems appropriate that the 2020 Virtual Grand National was little more than a week ago, the same time that I was introduced to Absent Oelemberg, the racehorse at the centre of Spring’s subplot. James and his unreliable friend, Freddy, have purchased a share in the horse whose distinctive name they learn is meaningless. They just need to trust narcissistic Simon Miller’s manipulation of the betting market to make handy profits on their investment.
Spring, David Szalay’s third novel, after London and the South-East and The Innocent, deals with self-entitlement. Characters flaunt money, reinvest and, generally, crash and burn. A void underpins this reckless behaviour, and Szalay’s intention is to examine the emotional impact of sexual love. The narrative doesn’t question the legitimacy of James and Katherine’s feelings or even the latter’s indifference to their relationship, but neither does it celebrate their time together. Given that the narrative opens with ‘a fiasco’, the reader is encouraged to forget idealistic romance and prepare for a grislier outcome.
But, as is Szalay’s style, the action is not over-dramatised. Like the Man-Booker shortlisted All that Man is, Szalay shifts between consciousnesses in Spring and he conveys the same event from multiple perspectives. It is partly through this structural device that he reveals James and Katherine’s incompatibility, but the dialogue is just as effective. For instance, near the beginning of their rendezvous, James suggests doing something together:
“No,’ she said, ‘nothing special. Let’s just go to the cinema or something.’
He asked her what she wanted to see.
‘I don’t know. What is there?’
He said he’d have a look.’
Realism is high on Szalay’s priority list. Katherine consistently refuses to be taken in by grandiose gestures and exciting trips away, while ‘I don’t know.’ is a stock response when it comes to deciding on something as insignificant as a film as it is to when the protagonists evaluate their relationship. After a short while apart, desire for another’s company keeps drawing the lovers back together but the time they spend together hardly amounts to fun. They tumble into bed after a disagreement and then retreat to their private thoughts. Acrimonious words are rarely shared between them. Instead, Katherine drifts away because she doesn’t want to spend the night with James and, even when she does, the reader senses that she’s going through the motions/performing with duty to whatever it is the couple share.
But the narrative isn’t only about James and Katherine’s failed attempts at making it work. Most relationships in the novel are marred by something or other. We learn that James can’t trust Freddy, whose restlessness has significant implications for everybody connected to him. At one point, Katherine says, ‘The love is dead.’ as another love interest falls at a fence. It is rare that Szalay allows relationships to last the course and, if they do, they come at a cost.
It is perhaps for this reason that it’s difficult to sympathise for the characters. They’re an unlikeable cast of London’s not so up and comings. They’re impulsive and unfeeling, which is consistent with, but doesn’t add to, the realism of their relationships.
As the narrative unfolds, Absent Oelemberg’s odds shorten as joint-owner Simon Miller’s dishonest planning seems to be taking shape. But, like Szalay’s presentation of extramarital love, this is too good to be true. The expectations that James makes of Katherine and the demands that she puts on herself to love again are too great. When she spends time away with her estranged husband, the narrator concedes that ‘There was one small mercy. On Sunday mornings the clocks went forward, shortening the weekend by an hour.’ This is no depiction of springtime where the flowers bounce back. It’s a muddy Grand National run and, even when the characters think they have the stamina to complete the 4-mile trip, another fence then comes into view.
It seems appropriate that the 2020 Virtual Grand National was little more than a week ago, the same time that I was introduced to Absent Oelemberg, the racehorse at the centre of Spring’s subplot. James and his unreliable friend, Freddy, have purchased a share in the horse whose distinctive name they learn is meaningless. They just need to trust narcissistic Simon Miller’s manipulation of the betting market to make handy profits on their investment.
Spring, David Szalay’s third novel, after London and the South-East and The Innocent, deals with self-entitlement. Characters flaunt money, reinvest and, generally, crash and burn. A void underpins this reckless behaviour, and Szalay’s intention is to examine the emotional impact of sexual love. The narrative doesn’t question the legitimacy of James and Katherine’s feelings or even the latter’s indifference to their relationship, but neither does it celebrate their time together. Given that the narrative opens with ‘a fiasco’, the reader is encouraged to forget idealistic romance and prepare for a grislier outcome.
But, as is Szalay’s style, the action is not over-dramatised. Like the Man-Booker shortlisted All that Man is, Szalay shifts between consciousnesses in Spring and he conveys the same event from multiple perspectives. It is partly through this structural device that he reveals James and Katherine’s incompatibility, but the dialogue is just as effective. For instance, near the beginning of their rendezvous, James suggests doing something together:
“No,’ she said, ‘nothing special. Let’s just go to the cinema or something.’
He asked her what she wanted to see.
‘I don’t know. What is there?’
He said he’d have a look.’
Realism is high on Szalay’s priority list. Katherine consistently refuses to be taken in by grandiose gestures and exciting trips away, while ‘I don’t know.’ is a stock response when it comes to deciding on something as insignificant as a film as it is to when the protagonists evaluate their relationship. After a short while apart, desire for another’s company keeps drawing the lovers back together but the time they spend together hardly amounts to fun. They tumble into bed after a disagreement and then retreat to their private thoughts. Acrimonious words are rarely shared between them. Instead, Katherine drifts away because she doesn’t want to spend the night with James and, even when she does, the reader senses that she’s going through the motions/performing with duty to whatever it is the couple share.
But the narrative isn’t only about James and Katherine’s failed attempts at making it work. Most relationships in the novel are marred by something or other. We learn that James can’t trust Freddy, whose restlessness has significant implications for everybody connected to him. At one point, Katherine says, ‘The love is dead.’ as another love interest falls at a fence. It is rare that Szalay allows relationships to last the course and, if they do, they come at a cost.
It is perhaps for this reason that it’s difficult to sympathise for the characters. They’re an unlikeable cast of London’s not so up and comings. They’re impulsive and unfeeling, which is consistent with, but doesn’t add to, the realism of their relationships.
As the narrative unfolds, Absent Oelemberg’s odds shorten as joint-owner Simon Miller’s dishonest planning seems to be taking shape. But, like Szalay’s presentation of extramarital love, this is too good to be true. The expectations that James makes of Katherine and the demands that she puts on herself to love again are too great. When she spends time away with her estranged husband, the narrator concedes that ‘There was one small mercy. On Sunday mornings the clocks went forward, shortening the weekend by an hour.’ This is no depiction of springtime where the flowers bounce back. It’s a muddy Grand National run and, even when the characters think they have the stamina to complete the 4-mile trip, another fence then comes into view.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 7, 2025
For the most part the reader is focussed on male anguish in Spring (classic Szalay territory).
Particularly James, but also Fraser King, Simon Miller and Freddie Munt. However it’s the female lead, Katherine King, who turns out to be the most elusive, and the most unknowable, character. She’s not easy to warm to and alternates between a wished for state of reclusiveness, in her flat alone, while also wanting to be loved. Katherine is separated from her husband ; a man entirely unsuitable so far as her mother is concerned. The romance was whirlwind, and he was married with children. The mother has a point, and the reader is presented with images with a man flaunting an unsightly paunch.
Katherine is Cambridge University educated, but this ostensible mark of achievement and good prospects has no bearing on the wasteful, transitory life she is leading. It’s notable that no reference is made to any friends. None. No girlfriends, no work colleagues, no childhood friends. Her adult life revolves around having a male partner (though she doesn’t demonstrate any great allure once shes find a man, and a nebulous aspiration of owning her own hotel.
I did find Katherine inconsistent as a person, and conversationally extremely awkward. I’m not sure why she seems to have rival suitors wanting to woo her. I got the feeling as I finished the book that there’s more to come from Katherine. When she reflects last thing at night she sometimes turns to the bible (1 Corinthians-13) for comfort.
If Katherine is a less likely David Szalay character, James is classic Szalay. A wide boy chancer for the most part, James dabbles in pizza retail, horse ownership and racing, andinternet start ups. He drives an open top Aston Martin. He makes money quickly (lots of it) and loses it all just as quickly. James is an old style lad (this book was written in 2011, so its actually very much post millennial) who has tortured experiences of sexual activity. When he’s not begging, he’s totally irresponsible, and often overtly unappealing. Szalay doesn’t paint a picture of a dashing lothario.
A recurring Szalay theme is at play here “ Vanity of vanities. All is vanity”
The same is true of supporting character, Freddie Munt: “Vanity. As he well knew. It was his worst weakness.” . Freddie is a laugh, a kind of Evelyn Waugh misfit; Freddie has absolutely no idea how to forward plan and his endeavour to become a Fleet Street writer is doomed to failure.
I’ve read a few David Szalay novels now and his next work Flesh is due out in March. As a male reader I shudder at how amusing I find much of the writing. Is the default state of men one of short term, rather slobby living with quick fixes for short term physical and material satisfaction? I hope not.
Particularly James, but also Fraser King, Simon Miller and Freddie Munt. However it’s the female lead, Katherine King, who turns out to be the most elusive, and the most unknowable, character. She’s not easy to warm to and alternates between a wished for state of reclusiveness, in her flat alone, while also wanting to be loved. Katherine is separated from her husband ; a man entirely unsuitable so far as her mother is concerned. The romance was whirlwind, and he was married with children. The mother has a point, and the reader is presented with images with a man flaunting an unsightly paunch.
Katherine is Cambridge University educated, but this ostensible mark of achievement and good prospects has no bearing on the wasteful, transitory life she is leading. It’s notable that no reference is made to any friends. None. No girlfriends, no work colleagues, no childhood friends. Her adult life revolves around having a male partner (though she doesn’t demonstrate any great allure once shes find a man, and a nebulous aspiration of owning her own hotel.
I did find Katherine inconsistent as a person, and conversationally extremely awkward. I’m not sure why she seems to have rival suitors wanting to woo her. I got the feeling as I finished the book that there’s more to come from Katherine. When she reflects last thing at night she sometimes turns to the bible (1 Corinthians-13) for comfort.
If Katherine is a less likely David Szalay character, James is classic Szalay. A wide boy chancer for the most part, James dabbles in pizza retail, horse ownership and racing, andinternet start ups. He drives an open top Aston Martin. He makes money quickly (lots of it) and loses it all just as quickly. James is an old style lad (this book was written in 2011, so its actually very much post millennial) who has tortured experiences of sexual activity. When he’s not begging, he’s totally irresponsible, and often overtly unappealing. Szalay doesn’t paint a picture of a dashing lothario.
A recurring Szalay theme is at play here “ Vanity of vanities. All is vanity”
The same is true of supporting character, Freddie Munt: “Vanity. As he well knew. It was his worst weakness.” . Freddie is a laugh, a kind of Evelyn Waugh misfit; Freddie has absolutely no idea how to forward plan and his endeavour to become a Fleet Street writer is doomed to failure.
I’ve read a few David Szalay novels now and his next work Flesh is due out in March. As a male reader I shudder at how amusing I find much of the writing. Is the default state of men one of short term, rather slobby living with quick fixes for short term physical and material satisfaction? I hope not.
November 11, 2025
At the heart of David Szalay's exquisite yet maddening novel Spring is a love story. What's maddening is its inconclusiveness. What's exquisite is the writing. He just won the 2025 Booker prize for fiction, and was listed in 2010 as one of the ‘twenty best British novelists under forty’. It’s easy to see why. His powers of description are terrific. In this early novel Spring, there are great character sketches ("Freddy is piquey and jaundiced...His hair looks like it has slipped off his head...where it trails like the fringe of a filthy rug over his collar") and great images (a chandelier in a hotel lobby is "an inverted wedding cake, listlessly iridescent").
There are also passages of lyrical beauty that set the tone of the story: "The very springiness of the still air seems sad to him. Perhaps it is just the way the warming air, on these early spring days, is so sharp with transience. The end of something, the start of something new. Time. It is intrinsically sad."
So, unfortunately, are the characters. James and Katherine drift around like "half-abstract beings", vaguely uneasy about how things stand, neither willing to do much about it, neither knowing what they want. "He doesn't understand her. No more than she understands him."
It turns out that he is a "man unable to feel his feelings". And she is the kind of person who succumbs to "the pressure of pretending". She isn't sure whether to encourage their relationship or stop it, given the fact she's still married. Her husband, Frazer, a paparazzi photographer she'd met at a hotel stake-out for a shot of a famous American rock star staying in London, left a year before James and Katherine met.
What haunts this story is an image shared early on of a baby bird, fallen from its nest, being brought worms by its parent who don't seem to realize, or can't accept, that it's dead. There is something equally pitiful in the sight of a love affair that is over and the characters pointlessly trying to keep it alive by feeding it bits of hope and passion.
(From a book review in Foreword Magazine, Jan. 2012)
There are also passages of lyrical beauty that set the tone of the story: "The very springiness of the still air seems sad to him. Perhaps it is just the way the warming air, on these early spring days, is so sharp with transience. The end of something, the start of something new. Time. It is intrinsically sad."
So, unfortunately, are the characters. James and Katherine drift around like "half-abstract beings", vaguely uneasy about how things stand, neither willing to do much about it, neither knowing what they want. "He doesn't understand her. No more than she understands him."
It turns out that he is a "man unable to feel his feelings". And she is the kind of person who succumbs to "the pressure of pretending". She isn't sure whether to encourage their relationship or stop it, given the fact she's still married. Her husband, Frazer, a paparazzi photographer she'd met at a hotel stake-out for a shot of a famous American rock star staying in London, left a year before James and Katherine met.
What haunts this story is an image shared early on of a baby bird, fallen from its nest, being brought worms by its parent who don't seem to realize, or can't accept, that it's dead. There is something equally pitiful in the sight of a love affair that is over and the characters pointlessly trying to keep it alive by feeding it bits of hope and passion.
(From a book review in Foreword Magazine, Jan. 2012)
July 4, 2017
All of the ingredients were there for me to love another David Szalay book, but when I came to the end of it, I felt a bit cheated. It wasn't that the ending was bad, it was that it didn't feel like it was the end at all, and the world I liked, with characters I wanted to find out more about, was suddenly over, and I had many unanswered questions.
From a plotting point of view, why did we have James meet his uncle at his sister's dinner party, and why was he always talking to Miranda? Why did he visit his father's house? Who were Miriam and Thomasina? And why on earth did Simon narrate in a regional accent?
Szalay's writing style is good enough for me to read his books anyway, and I never tire of the London setting. James, Katherine and Fraser were decent characters, fully formed and not black and white good or bad guys. I didn't like Katherine, who frequently accused James and Fraser of not saying anything yet ducking any questions asked of her, but that was ok.
The issue was that the plot was fragmented, developed at an odd pace, frequently went to seemingly random flashbacks, and came to a slightly weird conclusion. It actually ended with a Final Event, but with little resolution of what it actually meant for the characters. The treatment of UKIP supporting Simon was a bit cartoonish too, and his grammatically incorrect narration seemed a bit snobby. Combined, this makes me think Szalay could have done better.
From a plotting point of view, why did we have James meet his uncle at his sister's dinner party, and why was he always talking to Miranda? Why did he visit his father's house? Who were Miriam and Thomasina? And why on earth did Simon narrate in a regional accent?
Szalay's writing style is good enough for me to read his books anyway, and I never tire of the London setting. James, Katherine and Fraser were decent characters, fully formed and not black and white good or bad guys. I didn't like Katherine, who frequently accused James and Fraser of not saying anything yet ducking any questions asked of her, but that was ok.
The issue was that the plot was fragmented, developed at an odd pace, frequently went to seemingly random flashbacks, and came to a slightly weird conclusion. It actually ended with a Final Event, but with little resolution of what it actually meant for the characters. The treatment of UKIP supporting Simon was a bit cartoonish too, and his grammatically incorrect narration seemed a bit snobby. Combined, this makes me think Szalay could have done better.
August 30, 2020
A novel told from the point of view of four very different characters. Main character is a winner and loser of the IT-bubble with vague plans to become a winner again. Others are a receptionist in a luxury hotel with big dreams and expectations, a papparazzi with dreams of a better life, a dodgy horse trainer with political aspirations and last but not least an enjoyer of life without expectations, only adjusting to whatever is coming his way and exploiting that to the most. They all influence each other's lifes, use the others without excuse, escaping loneliness. Things go wrong because of the lack of real feeling for the other; the lack of real commitment and misunderstandings, maybe because of that. All in all life is here shown as one big disappointment and missed opportunity.
This all sounds like the book is very dark, but it is not. It's very enjoyable and I'm certain readers will recognise certain situations in the book as something they could have encountered themselves or maybe really did.
I can really recommend it.
This all sounds like the book is very dark, but it is not. It's very enjoyable and I'm certain readers will recognise certain situations in the book as something they could have encountered themselves or maybe really did.
I can really recommend it.
September 30, 2017
David Szalay can write - his prose about sunsets, light filtering in, and the human body, are lovely. But as the novel progresses, they seem a bit contrived and overdone; laid on a bit too thick. He knows how to draw you into the mind of a character. That's why I gave him 2 stars (rather than 1). But he doesn't know how to tell a story. What's the plot of the novel? Also, the characters are rather apathetic and flat. They don't care about anyone or anything, so I felt that I didn't really care about the novel. I've lost precious hours of my life reading this book - should have been reading something better. I would not recommend this book.
May 1, 2018
Excuse me as I unapologetically gush about this work.
Not often, but every now and again, you pick up a book that reinforces a) why you love to read, and b) what the essence of quality literature is. "Spring" is that book. I'd never previously heard of Szalay - I just happened to purchase this piece through my kindle one day. After the first few pages, it's clear why he's one of the best British authors (under 40). His voice is unique yet familiar. The prose is beautiful and tragic. The intelligence of Jonathan Franzen with the inherent loneliness of David Foster Wallace with the spryness of Iain Banks. This novel easily earns a place in my Top 10.
Not often, but every now and again, you pick up a book that reinforces a) why you love to read, and b) what the essence of quality literature is. "Spring" is that book. I'd never previously heard of Szalay - I just happened to purchase this piece through my kindle one day. After the first few pages, it's clear why he's one of the best British authors (under 40). His voice is unique yet familiar. The prose is beautiful and tragic. The intelligence of Jonathan Franzen with the inherent loneliness of David Foster Wallace with the spryness of Iain Banks. This novel easily earns a place in my Top 10.
December 14, 2018
I really wanted to like this book, to see it as a deeply meaningful examination of the interior world of people struggling to understand how they felt and how to build a relationship with someone else. I tried to see it as a picking-apart of the death of the Thatcher dream of self-made millionaires and on the bursting of the dot.com bubble. But I couldn't.
I found it depressing, irritating, dull, overlong. I was so pleased to get to the end.
I hope other people can find more in it and enjoy it. The writing is excellent.
I will try another of his books. But I need something (probably several things) with a story and a bit of light and life first.
I found it depressing, irritating, dull, overlong. I was so pleased to get to the end.
I hope other people can find more in it and enjoy it. The writing is excellent.
I will try another of his books. But I need something (probably several things) with a story and a bit of light and life first.
December 14, 2016
The perspective shifts about, from standard-issue Szalay useless male protagonist to out-of-his-class girlfriend and vicious horse trainer, but no matter where we go it's never really spring. It's really chilly, damp, unhappy. Hardly a hint of sunshine. And finally what are these characters but types?
Szalay lays the literary writing on a bit thick, reminding us every few pages his theme is light, overdoing it a bit on the adverbs, but despite all that he is good. He gives us the uncertainties of romance, the inability to break out of our narcissism and connect, in scenes as honest as Kundera (a writer he resembles not at all).
So many cigarettes are smoked, so many embraces shrugged off, so many fucks fucked, that one needs a long walk in the fall rain to feel a bit clean after finishing this.
Szalay lays the literary writing on a bit thick, reminding us every few pages his theme is light, overdoing it a bit on the adverbs, but despite all that he is good. He gives us the uncertainties of romance, the inability to break out of our narcissism and connect, in scenes as honest as Kundera (a writer he resembles not at all).
So many cigarettes are smoked, so many embraces shrugged off, so many fucks fucked, that one needs a long walk in the fall rain to feel a bit clean after finishing this.
January 16, 2018
2ND book I have read by this author they have both been very readable. The novel covers the development of new relationship between a couple who both have relationship and personal history that impacts the development of the relationship. A lot of the descriptions were very good and it it certainly kept me involved and interested although ultimately it didn't "go anywhere". Which maybe the point because it is unclear if their relationship will
November 7, 2021
A strange collection of colourful incidents connecting a rather seedy collection of characters. Every so often James and Katherine have a passionate fling, and then go their separate ways, he's keener than her, but she's depressed and drifting, as is he. The single life never looked so unappealing. I'd give it a higher rating if there was more form, but it was nice in the telling of its moments. Perhaps just like the lives of its cast.
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