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Night Train
A sharp twist on the noir genre from one of England’s finest fiction writers
'I worked one hundred murders,' says Detective Mike Hoolihan, an American policewoman. 'In my time I have come in on the aftermath of maybe a thousand suspicious deaths, most of which turned out to be suicides, accidentals or plain unattendeds. So I've seen them all: jumpers, stumpers, dumpers, dunkers, bleeders, floaters, poppers, bursters. But of all the bodies I have ever seen none has stayed with me, in my gut, like the body of Jennifer Rockwell. I say all this because I am part of the story I am going to tell, and I feel the need to give you some idea of where I'm coming from.'
Night Train is a mystery story which lingers in the reader's mind even after Mike Hoolihan declares the case closed.
‘Tough, noir, Chandleresque’ Independent
‘Night Train is both delicate and bruising - a long drawn-out blue note. The book hangs around in the mind like smoke in a jazz club’ Telegraph Magazine
'I worked one hundred murders,' says Detective Mike Hoolihan, an American policewoman. 'In my time I have come in on the aftermath of maybe a thousand suspicious deaths, most of which turned out to be suicides, accidentals or plain unattendeds. So I've seen them all: jumpers, stumpers, dumpers, dunkers, bleeders, floaters, poppers, bursters. But of all the bodies I have ever seen none has stayed with me, in my gut, like the body of Jennifer Rockwell. I say all this because I am part of the story I am going to tell, and I feel the need to give you some idea of where I'm coming from.'
Night Train is a mystery story which lingers in the reader's mind even after Mike Hoolihan declares the case closed.
‘Tough, noir, Chandleresque’ Independent
‘Night Train is both delicate and bruising - a long drawn-out blue note. The book hangs around in the mind like smoke in a jazz club’ Telegraph Magazine
160 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1997
165 people are currently reading
3371 people want to read
About the author
Martin Amis
113 books3,032 followersMartin Amis was an English novelist, essayist, and short story writer. His works included the novels Money, London Fields and The Information.
The Guardian writes that "all his critics have noted what Kingsley Amis [his father] complained of as a 'terrible compulsive vividness in his style... that constant demonstrating of his command of English'; and it's true that the Amis-ness of Amis will be recognisable in any piece before he reaches his first full stop."
Amis's raw material is what he sees as the absurdity of the postmodern condition with its grotesque caricatures. He has thus sometimes been portrayed as the undisputed master of what the New York Times has called "the new unpleasantness."
The Guardian writes that "all his critics have noted what Kingsley Amis [his father] complained of as a 'terrible compulsive vividness in his style... that constant demonstrating of his command of English'; and it's true that the Amis-ness of Amis will be recognisable in any piece before he reaches his first full stop."
Amis's raw material is what he sees as the absurdity of the postmodern condition with its grotesque caricatures. He has thus sometimes been portrayed as the undisputed master of what the New York Times has called "the new unpleasantness."
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 644 reviews
October 31, 2024
SPUTERÒ SULLE VOSTRE TOMBE
Paul Delvaux: Treno di sera. 1957
No, non è Vernon Sullivan, e non è un libro che susciti scalpore e scandalo come quello che Boris Vian pubblicò sotto pseudonimo.
Non è neppure un divertissement, un viaggio di uno scrittore ‘alto’ in un genere, per così dire, ‘basso’ e nelle sue convenzioni.
Non conosco altro di Martin Amis, quindi non posso fare confronti con il resto della sua opera.
Per me, è un buon libro, un buon noir: un noir di spessore, un thriller quasi metafisico. Va oltre il genere, scende più a fondo. Anche se… anche se Thompson e Chandler a fondo sono andati, molto a fondo.
E, al contrario di diversi commenti che mi hanno preceduto, è proprio il finale che garantisce un ulteriore salto di qualità, miscelando umanità logica e inevitabilità.
Paul Delvaux: Il treno blu. 1946
Un’indagine per risolvere un caso di dubbio suicidio che si trasforma in un bel viaggio nella psiche.
E la bellissima Jennifer, che gli uomini se li scrollava dai capelli come la forfora, si intendeva di viaggi psiche filosofia fisica e metafisica, da brava astronoma che studiava l’universo, quell'universo che ingoia il nostro mondo minuscolo.
La protagonista narrante, un donnone dall’apparenza molto maschiaccia, che ha un linguaggio come quello qui sopra in corsivo, ha anche un’intelligenza, una profondità, una sensibilità, un cuore che va da qui a molto in là.
Paul Delvaux: Solitudine. 1956.
Paul Delvaux: Treno di sera. 1957
No, non è Vernon Sullivan, e non è un libro che susciti scalpore e scandalo come quello che Boris Vian pubblicò sotto pseudonimo.
Non è neppure un divertissement, un viaggio di uno scrittore ‘alto’ in un genere, per così dire, ‘basso’ e nelle sue convenzioni.
Non conosco altro di Martin Amis, quindi non posso fare confronti con il resto della sua opera.
Per me, è un buon libro, un buon noir: un noir di spessore, un thriller quasi metafisico. Va oltre il genere, scende più a fondo. Anche se… anche se Thompson e Chandler a fondo sono andati, molto a fondo.
E, al contrario di diversi commenti che mi hanno preceduto, è proprio il finale che garantisce un ulteriore salto di qualità, miscelando umanità logica e inevitabilità.
Paul Delvaux: Il treno blu. 1946
Un’indagine per risolvere un caso di dubbio suicidio che si trasforma in un bel viaggio nella psiche.
E la bellissima Jennifer, che gli uomini se li scrollava dai capelli come la forfora, si intendeva di viaggi psiche filosofia fisica e metafisica, da brava astronoma che studiava l’universo, quell'universo che ingoia il nostro mondo minuscolo.
La protagonista narrante, un donnone dall’apparenza molto maschiaccia, che ha un linguaggio come quello qui sopra in corsivo, ha anche un’intelligenza, una profondità, una sensibilità, un cuore che va da qui a molto in là.
Paul Delvaux: Solitudine. 1956.
February 10, 2022
Amis writing an American police thriller? Well, that's what Night Train could very well have ended up being. I'm just glad that it wasn't. The thought of Amis trying to do what the likes of Ellroy and Connelly have done just didn't seem right. Despite there being a quasi-private investigation with a view to finding out whether a suicide was in fact murder, It's best to distance this from the crime fiction genre. The novel is basically a lot more about suicide, grief, failures, motivation, intelligible unhappiness, and the expression of horror as to what men and women are capable of, rather than cops chasing down the bad guys. Here he is at his most serious, somber, and tightly constructed, and although I found the novel overall better than what I thought it would be, it lacked the ambitious nature and memorable characters of something like London Fields to have any lasting effect on me. I prefer the British Amis to the American one.
October 25, 2017
Martin Amis has often been accused of not being able to create credible female characters. A female detective narrates this novel and perhaps he was making fun of himself by calling her Mike. Several times I had to remind myself she was a woman and not a man so I doubt if he’s appeased any of his detractors on that score. Mike is investigating the suicide of a beautiful young woman who had it all. She also happens to be the daughter of his former boss. Usually with Amis you know you’re going to get a lot of laugh out loud humour and some dazzling passages. This isn’t quite the case with Night Train. It’s an odd novel, a kind of existential noir. I did enjoy it – nice and short for one thing - though I can’t say I understood the denouement. 3.5 stars.
March 25, 2012
A young woman has been found dead, and the central character, a police detective, has been put in charge of the investigation. It looks like suicide, but why ever would she have killed herself? It's interesting to see Martin Amis's picture of someone who had everything to live for. Her talented and handsome partner loved her; he says bitterly that it's kind of embarrassing to admit how much time they spent in bed together. And she was an astrophysicist, doing cutting-edge work in cosmology.
Sex and astrophysics: what could make anyone happier? I thought of this book yesterday when the CERN physicist we'd invited to dinner told us, as he held his beautiful wife's hand, about cosmology's long-term plans. Over the last decade, we've managed to map the Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation, which comes from the Last Scattering Surface; the moment, a few hundred thousand years after the Big Bang, when space became transparent. It's told us remarkable things about the Universe.
But there are still huge mysteries concerning what went before. Now, I learned, there is a far more ambitious dream: if we could build a neutrino telescope, we'd be able to see back to a point two seconds after the Universe began. It's possible that we'd be able to catch neutrinos that had come straight from that time to us, without interacting with anything en route. A direct message almost from the moment of creation. So far, no one has any idea how to do this. But it doesn't seem out of the question that it will be possible one day.
Okay, Martin, now I see what you meant. Nice touch.
Sex and astrophysics: what could make anyone happier? I thought of this book yesterday when the CERN physicist we'd invited to dinner told us, as he held his beautiful wife's hand, about cosmology's long-term plans. Over the last decade, we've managed to map the Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation, which comes from the Last Scattering Surface; the moment, a few hundred thousand years after the Big Bang, when space became transparent. It's told us remarkable things about the Universe.
But there are still huge mysteries concerning what went before. Now, I learned, there is a far more ambitious dream: if we could build a neutrino telescope, we'd be able to see back to a point two seconds after the Universe began. It's possible that we'd be able to catch neutrinos that had come straight from that time to us, without interacting with anything en route. A direct message almost from the moment of creation. So far, no one has any idea how to do this. But it doesn't seem out of the question that it will be possible one day.
Okay, Martin, now I see what you meant. Nice touch.
December 26, 2017
Nulla è come pare, sempre
In 148 pagine Amis è stato in grado di tratteggiare con precisione più personaggi, conferendo loro uno spessore più che tridimensionale nel tempo e nello spazio, ne scandaglia infatti anche la mente e il cuore. Ed è una detective story, un poliziesco, un noir, un giallo o qualcosa a cavallo di queste categorie, se una dobbiamo attribuirgliene. Se si ha tempo, si legge d’un fiato. Il detective è una donna, gradatamente ne facciamo una conoscenza profonda, perlomeno veniamo a sapere tutto ciò che ha fatto sì che diventasse quel tipo di donna. Senza pietismi. Conosciamo i suoi pensieri, i suoi sentimenti, ma in modo quasi incidentale, quasi fosse necessario svelarli avendo essi a che fare con il racconto. Profonde certe riflessioni relative al suo stupore e al dispiacere che prova quando capisce cosa pensava di lei Jennifer, la ‘vittima del suicidio’ o dell’omicidio, quasi pari allo stupore che coglie il lettore quando si svela il ragionar di Jennifer. Ma con la stessa intensità facciamo la conoscenza anche di tutti gli altri, anche delle comparse. Questa è una dote, direi, per uno scrittore, poi…
Qua e là non manca qualche considerazione retorica: “- Hai mai sentito di qualcuno più felice di lei? Di più equilibrato? Jennifer era… era solare. – No, non si sbaglia colonnello Tom. Ma se si va a scavare nelle persone. Lo sappiamo tutti e due che c’è sempre dolore a sufficienza –“.
Ma anche un filo di umorismo: “Quindi Tobe mi calza a pennello. La sua strategia, sospetto, è quella di starmi attorno per trasformarsi in un’abitudine. E sta funzionando. Ma così lentamente che non credo che vivrò abbastanza a lungo da vedere se avrà successo.” e “Il colonnello gira come una trottola, dannandosi per trovare qualcosa di infamante sul conto di Trader. Precedenti di instabilità e irascibilità … Qualche moto di … cavalleria men che perfetta nei confronti di Jennifer. Tutte le volte che l’ha lasciata passare accanto a una pozzanghera senza stenderci prima la giacca.” Scritto bene, nulla di troppo, nulla di superficiale. E’ del 1997, Amis del 1949. Provo soddisfazione quando incontro uno scrittore che mi piace, ancor di più se è uno ‘scrittore seriale’. Questa sensazione l’ho provata – limitandomi solo agli ultimi anni – con Simenon, Lethem, Roth, Fois, Márai, Maugham…
In 148 pagine Amis è stato in grado di tratteggiare con precisione più personaggi, conferendo loro uno spessore più che tridimensionale nel tempo e nello spazio, ne scandaglia infatti anche la mente e il cuore. Ed è una detective story, un poliziesco, un noir, un giallo o qualcosa a cavallo di queste categorie, se una dobbiamo attribuirgliene. Se si ha tempo, si legge d’un fiato. Il detective è una donna, gradatamente ne facciamo una conoscenza profonda, perlomeno veniamo a sapere tutto ciò che ha fatto sì che diventasse quel tipo di donna. Senza pietismi. Conosciamo i suoi pensieri, i suoi sentimenti, ma in modo quasi incidentale, quasi fosse necessario svelarli avendo essi a che fare con il racconto. Profonde certe riflessioni relative al suo stupore e al dispiacere che prova quando capisce cosa pensava di lei Jennifer, la ‘vittima del suicidio’ o dell’omicidio, quasi pari allo stupore che coglie il lettore quando si svela il ragionar di Jennifer. Ma con la stessa intensità facciamo la conoscenza anche di tutti gli altri, anche delle comparse. Questa è una dote, direi, per uno scrittore, poi…
Qua e là non manca qualche considerazione retorica: “- Hai mai sentito di qualcuno più felice di lei? Di più equilibrato? Jennifer era… era solare. – No, non si sbaglia colonnello Tom. Ma se si va a scavare nelle persone. Lo sappiamo tutti e due che c’è sempre dolore a sufficienza –“.
Ma anche un filo di umorismo: “Quindi Tobe mi calza a pennello. La sua strategia, sospetto, è quella di starmi attorno per trasformarsi in un’abitudine. E sta funzionando. Ma così lentamente che non credo che vivrò abbastanza a lungo da vedere se avrà successo.” e “Il colonnello gira come una trottola, dannandosi per trovare qualcosa di infamante sul conto di Trader. Precedenti di instabilità e irascibilità … Qualche moto di … cavalleria men che perfetta nei confronti di Jennifer. Tutte le volte che l’ha lasciata passare accanto a una pozzanghera senza stenderci prima la giacca.” Scritto bene, nulla di troppo, nulla di superficiale. E’ del 1997, Amis del 1949. Provo soddisfazione quando incontro uno scrittore che mi piace, ancor di più se è uno ‘scrittore seriale’. Questa sensazione l’ho provata – limitandomi solo agli ultimi anni – con Simenon, Lethem, Roth, Fois, Márai, Maugham…
May 3, 2016
NIGHT TRAIN DOES NOT LEAVE THE STATION
Night Train does not work on any level. Despite having read and watched American police genres, American is clearly a foreign language to Amis—he could have used a translator. Just a glaring example, Mike visits the doctor at his “surgery.” An American would of course say “office,” as the term “surgery” means an operation that involves a scalpel. And I simply do not believe the silly construction of “I am a police” that is repeated for seemingly no reason.
The narrator (and main character) is an unattractive and unbelievable caricature. A girl named Mike. Walks like a boy, talks like a boy, but wants to be a girl. Sort of like having two tits on a bull.
The worst part of the book is that it is not a novel or story at all, but rather a Bunyonesque parable. Jennifer Rockford is not merely an excellent human specimen, but a perfect human being. Mike would be a stereotypical “Law & Order” tough cop with an interesting (if predictable) psychological background, except for Amis’s awkward overlay of a British sensibility on an ostensibly American character. In fact every character is merely a type or a two-dimensional symbol. Amis seems to have a message better suited to an essay—perhaps; or maybe he does not have enough material for an essay. The point merely being that we are headed for nothingness. It may be a profound truth, but has no more substance to it than the nothingness itself.
Night Train does not work on any level. Despite having read and watched American police genres, American is clearly a foreign language to Amis—he could have used a translator. Just a glaring example, Mike visits the doctor at his “surgery.” An American would of course say “office,” as the term “surgery” means an operation that involves a scalpel. And I simply do not believe the silly construction of “I am a police” that is repeated for seemingly no reason.
The narrator (and main character) is an unattractive and unbelievable caricature. A girl named Mike. Walks like a boy, talks like a boy, but wants to be a girl. Sort of like having two tits on a bull.
The worst part of the book is that it is not a novel or story at all, but rather a Bunyonesque parable. Jennifer Rockford is not merely an excellent human specimen, but a perfect human being. Mike would be a stereotypical “Law & Order” tough cop with an interesting (if predictable) psychological background, except for Amis’s awkward overlay of a British sensibility on an ostensibly American character. In fact every character is merely a type or a two-dimensional symbol. Amis seems to have a message better suited to an essay—perhaps; or maybe he does not have enough material for an essay. The point merely being that we are headed for nothingness. It may be a profound truth, but has no more substance to it than the nothingness itself.
June 6, 2020
My first Martin Amis read blows me away… a perfectly crafted noir novel about a female detective called Mike investigating the suicide of a woman who appeared to have everything. Exquisitely written. 8 out of 12.
April 7, 2017
Mike Hoolihan is a former homicide police and currently working in Asset Forfeiture when the daughter of her mentor and friend, Colonel Tom Rockwell, dies. The death is ruled a suicide but Colonel Tom is not so sure and asks Mike to look into it.
In a way this story is a straight up crime suspense novel but it's also really very different from others I've read. The narrator makes little attempt to clarify her own thinking in a way that lets people outside of police to know what she means. There are times that her comments are opaque to me and I was a bit baffled by them. This ends up doing an excellent job of immersing you in the narrator's world but it's a world that's far outside of my own experience. I thought at first that this would diminish my ability to enjoy the book but I was very wrong there. Somehow it ended up getting me more locked in on what was going on.
Somewhere around the 2/3 mark this book sucked me in and wouldn't let me go. Any attempt to pry it out of my hands would have resulted in a full blown tantrum, I'm pretty sure. Or the person attempting the prying would have had to drag me around the house with the book. By the end the book ratcheted up the suspense to an agonizing level and I actually felt enormous relief in the final paragraph. It still took a long time for my heart to stop pounding but I at least felt relief!
It absolutely amazes me that the author sucked me in that much in a book that was only 175 pages. That's rarely enough for me to get really attached to a book.
In a way this story is a straight up crime suspense novel but it's also really very different from others I've read. The narrator makes little attempt to clarify her own thinking in a way that lets people outside of police to know what she means. There are times that her comments are opaque to me and I was a bit baffled by them. This ends up doing an excellent job of immersing you in the narrator's world but it's a world that's far outside of my own experience. I thought at first that this would diminish my ability to enjoy the book but I was very wrong there. Somehow it ended up getting me more locked in on what was going on.
Somewhere around the 2/3 mark this book sucked me in and wouldn't let me go. Any attempt to pry it out of my hands would have resulted in a full blown tantrum, I'm pretty sure. Or the person attempting the prying would have had to drag me around the house with the book. By the end the book ratcheted up the suspense to an agonizing level and I actually felt enormous relief in the final paragraph. It still took a long time for my heart to stop pounding but I at least felt relief!
It absolutely amazes me that the author sucked me in that much in a book that was only 175 pages. That's rarely enough for me to get really attached to a book.
May 21, 2007
scenic, memorable, sweetly melancholy.
here's a take courtesy of Amazon:
(2 stars)Not the greatest thing, May 19, 2006
A Kid's Review
Well when i got this book i thought that there was going to be more action in it. But it is just a story about a girl who did suicide (i am not done with it yet). This book also has to many swears in it, no one talks like that, only teens do (that are immature). I can't wait to be done with this book.
here's a take courtesy of Amazon:
(2 stars)Not the greatest thing, May 19, 2006
A Kid's Review
Well when i got this book i thought that there was going to be more action in it. But it is just a story about a girl who did suicide (i am not done with it yet). This book also has to many swears in it, no one talks like that, only teens do (that are immature). I can't wait to be done with this book.
October 13, 2018
...apie tobula meile ir tobula isdavyste...? Busiu kazka praleidus...
Net nezinau kuo labiau megavausi - siuzetu ar stiliumi...Pirmiausia, ka noriu pasakyti, kad tai visai ne detektyvas...Tai labiau egzistencine drama...apvilkta detektyvo rubu. Pamintijimai ir pastebejimai, manau, verti demesio...Tikrai rekomenduoju.
Net nezinau kuo labiau megavausi - siuzetu ar stiliumi...Pirmiausia, ka noriu pasakyti, kad tai visai ne detektyvas...Tai labiau egzistencine drama...apvilkta detektyvo rubu. Pamintijimai ir pastebejimai, manau, verti demesio...Tikrai rekomenduoju.
May 21, 2018
Female New York cop Mike Hoolihan is the protagonist of Amis's venture into crime, a 44 year old ex-alcoholic, (''I used to be something, I guess, but now I'm just another big blond old broad"), and it is her character that makes the short novel stand out as a piece of crime fiction. She is assigned to investigate the suicide of a police chief's daughter.
It is hard-boiled noir with punchy dialogue and it builds towards a much anticipated climax. It is a sudden and satisfying resolution, and even though Mike is narrating to us, she keeps us in the dark for as long as possible, on tenterhooks, as if she wants to show us what she means, not tell us.
It is hard-boiled noir with punchy dialogue and it builds towards a much anticipated climax. It is a sudden and satisfying resolution, and even though Mike is narrating to us, she keeps us in the dark for as long as possible, on tenterhooks, as if she wants to show us what she means, not tell us.
August 12, 2010
44-year-old female detective and recovering alcoholic, "Mike" Hoolihan, takes on the job of investigating the apparent suicide of Jennifer Rockwell, the only daughter of police brass, Colonel Tom. Tom is a powerful father figure for Mike: he saved her life by getting her off the booze. Now he wants her to explain what happened to his daughter. Jennifer had everything anybody wants: beauty, wit, health and a stimulating career. So the discovery in her orderly apartment of her naked body with three shots to the head strikes Hoolihan not just as a shock, but as an endlessly troubling mystery. As she attempts to solve it, Amis takes us down the well-worn paths of the traditional detective story: the crime scene, the autopsy, the interviews with Jennifer's doctor, lover and colleagues, mostly set in offices, bars and smoky police cells. The resolution is original while still remaining reasonably faithful to classic crime conventions. As Borges once observed, the American detective story is generally a disappointment precisely because its solutions don't satisfy the curiosity the plot has stirred. But Amis, to my mind, nails it. The ending is incredibly bleak and quite unexpected, though some readers will undoubtedly find it ambiguous... So much of the criticism of this startling little novel misses the mark by holding it to a standard it doesn't attempt to meet. The one thing we can be sure Amis is not doing here is attempting a conventional noirish crime novel. Rather, he borrows the conventions of one genre and uses them for something else: in this case, he takes the "detective story" as the narrative architecture for an existential drama, much like Paul Auster did in "The New York Trilogy". As "a police", Mike needs to be interested in the what and the how, and less in the why. But as Amis shows, the why is everything. The why is our central dilemma. I read "Night Train" in one sitting and enjoyed it immensely. I suspect the hatred it inspires has more to do with the average crime buff's disappointed expectations and/or the corrosive and now-automatic distaste many critics have for Martin Amis, and less to do with the book itself.
May 5, 2018
I should start by saying this was mandatory reading for a class I'm taking. Otherwise this book would most likely never have crossed my path. And if it did, I wouldn't have read it.
I really liked the opening paragraphs and read it a few times to savor it.
The voice of the protagonist felt unique but overall I wasn't a fan of the language/writing style and I couldn't quite grasp what the conclusion was.
I really liked the opening paragraphs and read it a few times to savor it.
The voice of the protagonist felt unique but overall I wasn't a fan of the language/writing style and I couldn't quite grasp what the conclusion was.
January 8, 2020
A black humor takeoff of detective stories, Night Train ends up as a fairly deep look at how the act of suicide, even at its most tawdry, disturbs the universe. The questions surrounding the act are always unanswerable for the mc, even though it’s literally her job to investigate. No answers from Amis, thankfully.
March 28, 2011
3/27/2011: Martin Amis has been on my to-read list for a while, but when I picked up a used paperback of Night Train, an older work, I for some reason had low expectations. Maybe it just seemed like such a slight volume—a light, easy entry into his body of work. But wow, it is an extraordinarily powerful novel, not what I expected. Yes, it is a quick read, both short and engaging. But there is so much packed into it that not only did I have to reread the final 20 pages immediately upon finishing the book, I also had to go read all I could find about it on the internet, trying to understand what exactly happened. And I will definitely need to read it through again.
Ostensibly Night Train is a straight up crime novel, narrated by a female "police" named Mike Hoolihan, who is given the task of investigating the suicide of a young woman named Jennifer Rockwell. Jennifer’s father is Mike’s boss, and neither Colonel Tom Rockwell nor Mike can truly believe that Jennifer, given her seemingly perfect life, would kill herself. So plot-wise, the novel follows Mike’s findings faithfully. But that’s just the surface layer, and underneath is so much more. Night Train is a meditation on identity, on suicide, on expectations; it’s about appearance vs. reality, it’s about the cosmos and humans’ place in it; it’s about love and family and secrets and lies. It’s about the impossibility of knowing anything for certain—truth, fact, answers, all are relative and unknowable.
Lots more of Amis’ work to read, and now I’m excited about it. I’d better get to work
Ostensibly Night Train is a straight up crime novel, narrated by a female "police" named Mike Hoolihan, who is given the task of investigating the suicide of a young woman named Jennifer Rockwell. Jennifer’s father is Mike’s boss, and neither Colonel Tom Rockwell nor Mike can truly believe that Jennifer, given her seemingly perfect life, would kill herself. So plot-wise, the novel follows Mike’s findings faithfully. But that’s just the surface layer, and underneath is so much more. Night Train is a meditation on identity, on suicide, on expectations; it’s about appearance vs. reality, it’s about the cosmos and humans’ place in it; it’s about love and family and secrets and lies. It’s about the impossibility of knowing anything for certain—truth, fact, answers, all are relative and unknowable.
Lots more of Amis’ work to read, and now I’m excited about it. I’d better get to work
October 10, 2016
Pues al principio me estaba gustando bastante, sobre todo por la forma tan original y diferente de contar la historia, pero a medida que iba avanzando se me ha ido haciendo a ratos confuso y a ratos no le veía el sentido y el final me ha dejado bastante fría, no me ha acabado de convencer.
Igual me hace falta reflexionar un poco más sobre el libro, porque me ha dejado muchos interrogantes
Eso sí tiene párrafos estupendos:
"El suicidio es un tren nocturno, un tren que te lleva velozmente a la oscuridad. No podrías llegar más rápido de otra forma, o por medios naturales. Compras el billete y subes a bordo. El billete te ha costado todo lo que tienes. Pero no hay trayecto de vuelta. Este tren te lleva al interior de la noche. Es el tren nocturno."
"Porque el suicidio es un desastre. Como objeto de estudio el suicidio es quizá el súmmun de la incoherencia. Y el acto mismo carece de hechura, de forma. El proyecto humano "implosiona", estalla hacia dentro... avergonzado, pueril, convulso, gesticulante. Un caos."
Igual me hace falta reflexionar un poco más sobre el libro, porque me ha dejado muchos interrogantes
Eso sí tiene párrafos estupendos:
"El suicidio es un tren nocturno, un tren que te lleva velozmente a la oscuridad. No podrías llegar más rápido de otra forma, o por medios naturales. Compras el billete y subes a bordo. El billete te ha costado todo lo que tienes. Pero no hay trayecto de vuelta. Este tren te lleva al interior de la noche. Es el tren nocturno."
"Porque el suicidio es un desastre. Como objeto de estudio el suicidio es quizá el súmmun de la incoherencia. Y el acto mismo carece de hechura, de forma. El proyecto humano "implosiona", estalla hacia dentro... avergonzado, pueril, convulso, gesticulante. Un caos."
October 6, 2017
I’m not familiar with Martin Amis themes and style so I’m rather cautious in my assessment. I would call the novel kind of satire or pastiche of detective/mystery novel. Amis freely borrows from noir crime authors here only to wrap up Night Train in costume of detective story but actually is more interested in existential dilemmas. He toys with convention of the genre and procedural issues to take a look on human condition.
Everything seems to be clichéd here: a female detective named Mike, a badass and recovering alcoholic, molested in childhood by her father and victim of abusive partners. And on the other side- wise and beautiful Jennifer, loved by everybody, with supporting parents and caring partner. In one word with everything that Mike was deprived of. And yet she killed herself. Or was she murdered?
Night Train is then deliberation of nature of suicide, it’s always a failure if our child or friend or relative committed suicide, we’re struggling with sense of guilt and anger, we need to understand all the whys. I’m not sure if I even understood the message the novel delivers, if there’s any message here at all. To say that we don’t know or know very little fellow human being, even the one we’re intimate with, it’s rather understatement.
March 17, 2016
I finally finished a Martin Amis book - though it's hardly typical of his work, so perhaps it doesn't really count. In Night Train, he adopts the voice of a tough American female cop, Mike Hoolihan, who's investigating her friend's supposed suicide. It's a pastiche of a particular sort of police procedural, edging into erotic thriller territory - it reminded me a lot of
In the Cut
by Susanna Moore, published in the same late-90s period. Riddled with deliberate cliches interspersed by passages of clever wordplay, it's an effective and really quite easy read, but there's something haunting about it, too.
October 6, 2023
if you’re looking for a female literary hard-boiled detective that is JUST AS tough as nails, and surprisingly, also much angstier then any of the crime classics by men, then you really oughtta check this one out.
especially the audiobook narrated by LINDA HAMILTON of terminator fame. she goes all the way with the characters neurosis and rage. her best work since T2.
psychologically intense stuff, so be warned.
especially the audiobook narrated by LINDA HAMILTON of terminator fame. she goes all the way with the characters neurosis and rage. her best work since T2.
psychologically intense stuff, so be warned.
June 16, 2020
Il treno perduto nella notte
"Avete mai quella sensazione infantile, quando il sole vi batte sulla faccia salata e il gelato si scioglie in bocca, quella sensazione fanciullesca di voler cancellare la felicità terrena, di volerla ridurre a un falso indizio? Non so. Quello riguarda il passato. E a volte penso che Jennifer Rockwell venisse dal futuro"
Mike è una detective che si trova a indagare sul suicidio di una sua amica, non il tipo di suicidio da "l'avrei fatto anch'io" ma piuttosto il tipo "ma chi caxxo gliel'ha fatto fare?"
ovviamente la risposta non c'è e il romanzo, non essendo un semplice giallo da spiaggia, indaga a fondo, molto più a fondo di quanto ci si aspetterebbe da un noir, ma abbastanza da farlo diventare il racconto del dolore di un'anima che non aveva trovato nessun senso, nonostante le tracce lasciate, Jennifer non aveva una direzione, e alla fine neanche Mike ne avrà una...
"Avete mai quella sensazione infantile, quando il sole vi batte sulla faccia salata e il gelato si scioglie in bocca, quella sensazione fanciullesca di voler cancellare la felicità terrena, di volerla ridurre a un falso indizio? Non so. Quello riguarda il passato. E a volte penso che Jennifer Rockwell venisse dal futuro"
Mike è una detective che si trova a indagare sul suicidio di una sua amica, non il tipo di suicidio da "l'avrei fatto anch'io" ma piuttosto il tipo "ma chi caxxo gliel'ha fatto fare?"
ovviamente la risposta non c'è e il romanzo, non essendo un semplice giallo da spiaggia, indaga a fondo, molto più a fondo di quanto ci si aspetterebbe da un noir, ma abbastanza da farlo diventare il racconto del dolore di un'anima che non aveva trovato nessun senso, nonostante le tracce lasciate, Jennifer non aveva una direzione, e alla fine neanche Mike ne avrà una...
December 14, 2009
Amis tries to write about America in this mercifully short police procedural and fails. He seems to be trying to channel Joseph Heller, Kurt Vonnegut, and Elmore Leonard. I'll give him credit for two funny snippets.
Detective Mike Hoolihan lives with her enormous boyfriend Tobe. Tobe's "strategy, I suspect, is to stick around and grow on me. And it's working. But so slowly that I don't think I'll live long enough to see if it all panned out."
And, at the funeral of suicide victim Jennifer Rockwell, whom Hoolihan knew well, Jennifer's mother approaches her. (Hoolihan is large and mannish).
She said, "Mike, I think this is the first time I've seen your legs."
I said, "Well enjoy."
Detective Mike Hoolihan lives with her enormous boyfriend Tobe. Tobe's "strategy, I suspect, is to stick around and grow on me. And it's working. But so slowly that I don't think I'll live long enough to see if it all panned out."
And, at the funeral of suicide victim Jennifer Rockwell, whom Hoolihan knew well, Jennifer's mother approaches her. (Hoolihan is large and mannish).
She said, "Mike, I think this is the first time I've seen your legs."
I said, "Well enjoy."
July 22, 2019
What can I say, I love reading someone pondering suicide; using fiction as their medium. It did it for me, in every sense of the phrase. Amis' succinct, biting prose rhythmically dancing from scene to scene, every sentence with a special flavour; every page dense with heat-it was majestic, and I enjoyed every second of my journey within this, at times, not so sunny novel.
A tidy little number, well worth your time.
A tidy little number, well worth your time.
May 3, 2016
3,5/5 Πολύ ενδιαφέροντα διηγήματα από έναν Καταλανό συγγραφέα- δημοσιογράφο πολύ επιτυχημένο στην Ισπανία. Εξαιρετική μετάφραση και έκδοση, αν εξαιρέσει κανείς το εξώφυλλο, το οποίο παραπέμπει σε βιβλίο αυτοβοήθειας.
September 20, 2018
Scrissi di là il 20 Maggio 2015 era un Mercoledì ore 17.00
Due donne: Jennifer, giovane, bellissima, intelligentissima. Astrofisica in carriera, padre pezzo grosso in polizia; Mike, di mezza età, nome e complessione fisica da uomo, “polizia” (piuttosto che poliziotta) ex alcolista e con un fegato che quello di Prometeo era un “pezzo” anatomico perfetto per studiarci sopra.
E’ la perfettina a suicidarsi. Tre colpi sono, però, così inverosimili per un suicidio che il padre chiede a Mike di andare a fondo: la figliola, motivi per decidere di farla finita non ne aveva nessuno. “Indaghi su quel fottuto Trager”le ordina o la prega(egli era il lui di lei, buon’anima).
Sappiamo che i padri sui figli raramente ci “insertano” ma Mike ci casca: la scena del delitto, più che il reperto medico legale, non la convince e soprattutto non le cala che una, baciata appassionatamente dalla vita, se ne vada incolpando perfidamente gli altri della sua morte e senza neppure un biglietto. Una mente perversa? Manco per niente o almeno ci vuole provare a dimostrarlo che no.
La povera Mike fa, allora, la dura con i sospetti, anzi con i colpevoli, perché se un “polizia” non li pensa come tali mica li può torchiare.
Fa la dura – si fa per dire- in ordine con: il compagno della bella, il collega del centro di astrofisica, la bambina vicina di casa, uno scemo tombeur de femmes , la vecchia vedova alcolizzata del piano di sopra e l’amica ex compagna di college della “divina ( una poveretta affetta da psicosi depressiva con un arsenale in casa di Litio, Tegretol, Depakin).
Scopre che la bella ha pure scritto un ultimo biglietto, ma non proprio all’ultimo momento, spedendolo all’imbambolato Trader. Un trombatore non da poco. Perfino Mike ci fa un pensierino e all’ultimo colloquio ci va fondotintata, fardata e pure profumata.
Sebbene non sembri nemmeno a lui di essere all’altezza del suo mestiere - fa il filosofo della scienza- tuttavia è convinto, fin dal primo momento, che sia stata da un lato la sua piccolezza e dall’altro lo scrupolo di lei a lasciarlo (grande pure in questo, la divina!), a convincerla a immolarsi come un’eroina sull’altare della cultura.
La Mike comincia a sospettare la verità, ma non vuole rassegnarsi: sospetta di essere invidiosa della Dea anche da morta e la cosa la adombra.
Poi deve arrendersi, guardare senza fare finta di non vedere e dire la verità. Il fatto che sia figlia di un “polizia” non può non c’entrare (giuro: scritto così ben tre volte), rimugina per tutta la storia Mike.
Doveva farsene una ragione: “Venere in quanti” era una stronza, con la puzza sotto il naso, che considerava l’umanità una nullità. A lei sempre efficiente, una bambola per fare sesso e un’astrofisica di prima grandezza, è impossibile il controllo dei lillipuziani che la circondano: inscena una vendetta stile “Muoia Sansone con tutti i filistei”, senza fare i conti con una lillipuziana di ottanta e passa chili.
Il riscatto dei lillipuziani più o meno in carne.
Ho spoilerato?
Due donne: Jennifer, giovane, bellissima, intelligentissima. Astrofisica in carriera, padre pezzo grosso in polizia; Mike, di mezza età, nome e complessione fisica da uomo, “polizia” (piuttosto che poliziotta) ex alcolista e con un fegato che quello di Prometeo era un “pezzo” anatomico perfetto per studiarci sopra.
E’ la perfettina a suicidarsi. Tre colpi sono, però, così inverosimili per un suicidio che il padre chiede a Mike di andare a fondo: la figliola, motivi per decidere di farla finita non ne aveva nessuno. “Indaghi su quel fottuto Trager”le ordina o la prega(egli era il lui di lei, buon’anima).
Sappiamo che i padri sui figli raramente ci “insertano” ma Mike ci casca: la scena del delitto, più che il reperto medico legale, non la convince e soprattutto non le cala che una, baciata appassionatamente dalla vita, se ne vada incolpando perfidamente gli altri della sua morte e senza neppure un biglietto. Una mente perversa? Manco per niente o almeno ci vuole provare a dimostrarlo che no.
La povera Mike fa, allora, la dura con i sospetti, anzi con i colpevoli, perché se un “polizia” non li pensa come tali mica li può torchiare.
Fa la dura – si fa per dire- in ordine con: il compagno della bella, il collega del centro di astrofisica, la bambina vicina di casa, uno scemo tombeur de femmes , la vecchia vedova alcolizzata del piano di sopra e l’amica ex compagna di college della “divina ( una poveretta affetta da psicosi depressiva con un arsenale in casa di Litio, Tegretol, Depakin).
Scopre che la bella ha pure scritto un ultimo biglietto, ma non proprio all’ultimo momento, spedendolo all’imbambolato Trader. Un trombatore non da poco. Perfino Mike ci fa un pensierino e all’ultimo colloquio ci va fondotintata, fardata e pure profumata.
Sebbene non sembri nemmeno a lui di essere all’altezza del suo mestiere - fa il filosofo della scienza- tuttavia è convinto, fin dal primo momento, che sia stata da un lato la sua piccolezza e dall’altro lo scrupolo di lei a lasciarlo (grande pure in questo, la divina!), a convincerla a immolarsi come un’eroina sull’altare della cultura.
La Mike comincia a sospettare la verità, ma non vuole rassegnarsi: sospetta di essere invidiosa della Dea anche da morta e la cosa la adombra.
Poi deve arrendersi, guardare senza fare finta di non vedere e dire la verità. Il fatto che sia figlia di un “polizia” non può non c’entrare (giuro: scritto così ben tre volte), rimugina per tutta la storia Mike.
Doveva farsene una ragione: “Venere in quanti” era una stronza, con la puzza sotto il naso, che considerava l’umanità una nullità. A lei sempre efficiente, una bambola per fare sesso e un’astrofisica di prima grandezza, è impossibile il controllo dei lillipuziani che la circondano: inscena una vendetta stile “Muoia Sansone con tutti i filistei”, senza fare i conti con una lillipuziana di ottanta e passa chili.
Il riscatto dei lillipuziani più o meno in carne.
Ho spoilerato?
May 15, 2016
It's hard not to be blown away by Martin Amis' writing. His prose in Night Train takes the sharp economy of noir stylists and pushes it as far as it will go until, if you read a passage aloud, you discover that it's also poetry. I don't say this to be flowery or even necessarily complimentary--rather, to emphasize that the writing here has a constant, unrelenting intentionality about it that both amazes and, at times, troubles the reader. In taking the style and form of the crime novel to such extremes, Amis doesn't so much deliver a satisfying tale as a kind of brute-force polemic on the power of noir as a sub-genre to make us feel so unsettled and yet compelled at the same time; why noir feels both unrealistic and yet revelatory all at once.
If my review sounds a bit over-the-top, then it matches the novel. Amis delivers all the edge of a crime story but none of the gentler concessions of modern mysteries. There's never a sense that, underneath the confusion and meanness, a better, nobler world is just waiting for the detective to solve the crime and bring the guilty to justice. Night Train is brilliantly written but will never make you comfortable. Right up until the very end, Amis aims to trouble rather than reassure.
It's a short book, well worth the time just to see the boundary lines of what noir writing can be in the hands of a literary author who doesn't give a damn about your happy endings.
If my review sounds a bit over-the-top, then it matches the novel. Amis delivers all the edge of a crime story but none of the gentler concessions of modern mysteries. There's never a sense that, underneath the confusion and meanness, a better, nobler world is just waiting for the detective to solve the crime and bring the guilty to justice. Night Train is brilliantly written but will never make you comfortable. Right up until the very end, Amis aims to trouble rather than reassure.
It's a short book, well worth the time just to see the boundary lines of what noir writing can be in the hands of a literary author who doesn't give a damn about your happy endings.
September 27, 2018
Martin Amis is one of the greatest writers of our times, but he also knows how to make a page-turner
This was my first foray into Amis's fiction, after I read his Koba the Dread: Laughter and the Twenty Million.
After Night Train I understand why he is known for his fiction.
What are its attributes?
Authoritative from the perspective of his policewoman protagonist
Martin Amis may be a scholar, but he can sure get into a police's way of thinking. He gets their lingo, their ups and downs - just everything. He brings the authority from a detective's perspective - and it makes it even better.
He bends the rules constantly - but in a way that is not forced
Amis changes the way dialogue is supposed to go, and from formatting to change in tone - he changes the way words are supposed to be. But each time it is justified - and serves the tale well.
Above all else - he makes you turn the page
With Amis you want to hang on every word - but you also want to find out what's next. This is not a tale you are supposed to love - you actually love it.
In any case - I recommend it!
This was my first foray into Amis's fiction, after I read his Koba the Dread: Laughter and the Twenty Million.
After Night Train I understand why he is known for his fiction.
What are its attributes?
Authoritative from the perspective of his policewoman protagonist
Martin Amis may be a scholar, but he can sure get into a police's way of thinking. He gets their lingo, their ups and downs - just everything. He brings the authority from a detective's perspective - and it makes it even better.
He bends the rules constantly - but in a way that is not forced
Amis changes the way dialogue is supposed to go, and from formatting to change in tone - he changes the way words are supposed to be. But each time it is justified - and serves the tale well.
Above all else - he makes you turn the page
With Amis you want to hang on every word - but you also want to find out what's next. This is not a tale you are supposed to love - you actually love it.
In any case - I recommend it!
April 10, 2020
Un grato descubrimiento esta novela corta.
Amis abre con una típica novela policial escrita en formato de diario donde una de las protagonistas narra lo acontecido en la investigación.
En la segunda parte cambia el tono y el relato pasa a un tono más sicológico-filosófico.
Finalmente hay un cierre donde hay que abrir bien los ojos y leer con atención.
Los dos personajes femeninos son el centro de la narración, y son polos opuestos; los masculinos van girando como satélites. Muy buena prosa. Quiero más de Amis. Alguna recomendación?
Amis abre con una típica novela policial escrita en formato de diario donde una de las protagonistas narra lo acontecido en la investigación.
En la segunda parte cambia el tono y el relato pasa a un tono más sicológico-filosófico.
Finalmente hay un cierre donde hay que abrir bien los ojos y leer con atención.
Los dos personajes femeninos son el centro de la narración, y son polos opuestos; los masculinos van girando como satélites. Muy buena prosa. Quiero más de Amis. Alguna recomendación?
April 9, 2019
Black Hole Songs, Won't You Come and Sing Away the Pain, or The Dental Records of the American Psyche
Amis apes the prime time grime and crime of laughing gas giddy Detroit daddy Elmore Leonard; roots around the gum and fangs of the American mouth, with the cosmic compression, the icy diamond tipped dentist's drill, of latter day Saul Bellow.
Amis apes the prime time grime and crime of laughing gas giddy Detroit daddy Elmore Leonard; roots around the gum and fangs of the American mouth, with the cosmic compression, the icy diamond tipped dentist's drill, of latter day Saul Bellow.
September 3, 2024
Mike Hoolihan debe investigar el supuesto suicidio de la hija de su jefe y padrino, una joven con una vida perfecta.
La evaluación de un presunto homicidio, y la autopsia psíquica del suicidio, para lo cual debe navegar en la mente y las percepciones de la víctima, sin señales ni pasamanos.
A medida que recorre los caminos astronómicos de Jennifer, el mundo y sus insignificancias se hacen cada vez más pequeñas, más vanas, más vacías. Pero vivir exige estar pendiente, agotadoramente de cada una de ellas.
Una novela que parece un policial negro, pero es una pesquisa más profunda, hacia el alma, la vida y sobre todo, el sentido. Excelente y sombría.
Se puede acompañar la lectura con la música de la canción del mismo nombre, en https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=liMFc...
La evaluación de un presunto homicidio, y la autopsia psíquica del suicidio, para lo cual debe navegar en la mente y las percepciones de la víctima, sin señales ni pasamanos.
A medida que recorre los caminos astronómicos de Jennifer, el mundo y sus insignificancias se hacen cada vez más pequeñas, más vanas, más vacías. Pero vivir exige estar pendiente, agotadoramente de cada una de ellas.
Una novela que parece un policial negro, pero es una pesquisa más profunda, hacia el alma, la vida y sobre todo, el sentido. Excelente y sombría.
Se puede acompañar la lectura con la música de la canción del mismo nombre, en https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=liMFc...
May 19, 2007
A hollow, false, ineptly wrought policier. Though supposedly written in an American's voice, it begins "I am a police." Which to my ear sounds like Amis, not like any American cop I know. A disappointing book from start to finish.
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