This book, based on a sociological research study, was published in May. Knowles walked around the wealthier parts of London and interviewed people who are found there. It was recommended in Tom Rowley’s newsletter as being “packed with sharply-observed insights into how the super-rich make their money and how they spend it. Gently written, with warmth and real curiosity.”
I’d agree with all of that. Knowles went well beyond simply describing the enormous privilege in which the super-rich are surrounded, and tried to genuinely understand the people and their world. One is left with the unavoidable impression that many of the super-rich are simply unaware of the real world, and most of them don’t come across as especially kind nor friendly.
I expected the gaping inequality, and so was perhaps a little less shocked by that than the tone suggests I might be. What really depressed me about this book is the lack of imagination, the sheer mundanity of the everyday life of the people described. The sense of “keeping up with the Joneses” and the divisions between the “haves and have yachts” feels essentially grounded in the same envy as at other income levels. So much of the behaviour seemed to be driven by a sense of societal norms—we simply must have a swimming pool / country house / yacht because that’s what people would expect of those with our income.
I suppose I like to think—in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary—that if I had effectively unlimited means then I’d spend my life trying to do something demonstrably worthwhile and leave the world a better place. I see that, to huge swathes of the world’s population, I do have effectively unlimited means, and yet, here I am, writing fairly shoddy and mostly unread book reviews rather than volunteering at the local soup kitchen. I suppose this book pierced my fantasy that my life would be different if I just had a little more money.
I’ve never understood how wealth relates banks, private equity, royals and art galleries. This book taught me so much about the London that rich people live, in secrecy, and how much I don’t envy them at all.
Seriously disappointing. A newspaper review had led me to expect a rather more rigorous study of London's plutocracy; what I had not anticipated were the author's anecdotal impressions of the super rich, how they'd made (or been gifted) their money, and what they did with their wealth. The silly nicknames assigned to the interviewees so as to protect their anonymity further contributed to the levity of this survey of the boneheaded and air-headed entrants to the super-rich list. It's an entertaining read, sometimes provocative, but the investigation collapses into Sunday supplement 'colour pieces' in place of well sustained analysis. Even the trek along the Thames is a leisurely pursuit: the author is wearing ballerina pumps.
This book's conceit is instantly appealing - a sociologist walks through Britain's capital visiting all the wealthiest parts, interviewing their denizens, and experiencing their reality.
Despite being over 300 big pages, I was pretty captivated throughout. The sheer variety of kinds of wealthy people and the way they understand and rationalise their abundance was alarming and fascinating in equal measure.
There's also just something morbidly fascinating witnessing extravagance and profligacy - which so much reality TV taps into.
I would have liked Knowles to have revealed more about herself. How did she find her interviewees and what strings did she have to pull? There's something in her trying to remain a mere observer. But surely a part of any science is explaining one's method and potential biases.
Along with Birnam Wood and So Distant From My Life, this is the last in a series of books that have dealt with the pathologies of excess. Collectively, I think they've persuaded me not to sell out and become a management consultant - life's too short to seek money for money's sake.
This volume provides an illustration of the landscape of the rich, namely, the plutocrats in London.
The volume starts off with interviews with people in the financial district, the City. This is followed by Mayfair, St James, Belgravia. Her walk then took her to Notting Hill and North Kensington, followed by Central Kensington and South Kensington. She would find equity houses in Mayfair, private clubs, offices of family estates and more and people to interview. She would then visit the denizens of Chelsea, Regent Park and Richmond. Finally, she would venture out of the boundaries of London to visit Virginia Water.
The more revealing part of this volume comes in the final third where butlers are interviewed, the young idle rich are interviewed as is the student who is a classmate of the children of the plutocrats. The lifestyles and the excesses of the plutocrats are revealed here in all its gory glory.
The viscera hatred that the writer has for the plutocrats comes across in the numerous passages at throughout the volume, this volume was written with the tearing down of those plutocrats in mind or so it seems. At every instance, she would sneer at the deeds of the plutocrats, everything they did would be explained by ulterior motives. However, it is not hard to observe why the writer has a hatred for the rich.
This is a rather surface treatment of the idle rich who are often vacuous and aimless. This exposé does not offer any new insights that the likes of Daily Mail or The Sun do not already show.
Finally, she calls for wealth to be redistributed.
I picked this book up interested in it's methodological approach, ostensibly using walking as a way of understanding moneys impact on London, but found myself drawn into the books main topic as well. In places this book reads as a serious academic text, while in others it has the salacious details of popular non-fiction. In this balance it offers a compelling and interesting exploration of how the super rich exist within London, shape the city and see themselves.
The writer is a London-based social anthropologist who has turned her expertise in the material world back on her city to show how a global class of wealthy elites shapes new labour, leisure and property markets. This is a thoroughly researched study of the lives of the super rich in London, with an impressive cast list of people with insights into nearly every aspect of their lives - from domestic staff and professionals who serve the rich to people who belong to the class themselves.
The impression she gives of the wealthy is one of idle, unanchored and purposeless lives, but there is plenty of insight here into the way the spectacle of wealth pollutes everyday life for the rest of us too. She writes about how our coexistence with the super-wealthy inevitably brings us into their orbits and their hollow value-systems, so that it's impossible to ignore their consequences if you live in London.
London is dead. It has become (in Caroline Knowles' piquant phrase) a city of "Haves" and "Have Yachts" with no room for the rest of us who provide the services, culture and good vibes that make a city liveable.
This book was a great idea, but in execution it falls a little flat. This isn't Knowles' fault: the rich, as she notes again and again, interview after tedious interview, are really just insipid losers, attempting to gain through largesse what they never really had, whether it be intelligence (via elite education), cultural capital (via art collections and patronage) or psychological safety (via gated estates and private security). And they fail to do so, which means they — and their thoughts, perspectives and attitudes — are profoundly dull.
The best parts of the book, therefore, are when Knowles interviews the security guards, cleaners and servants of this ennui class. They have the really entertaining anecdotes. Unfortunately it seems Knowles herself realized this a little too late, and you have to plod along through the chats of yummy mummies and small-dicked investment bankers for about 160 pages before you get to the meaty stuff and the opinions that make this book (eventually) great.
Anthropological detachment just doesn't work when the subjects are so vapid. But definitely recommend if you can get through the slog!
Well written book. Reads well . However from my perspective unscientific in its approach to tackle the questions at hand. Interviews with single people aka one replicate are extrapolated to an entire group. Too much of the authors own opinion. Some claims are not backed up with references, e.g. Link between wealth and depression. Not enough numbers for my taste.
This is a brilliant read, although it's about the most disgusting, stupid, uninteresting people you can think of: the filthy rich who inhabit London today. Caroline Knowles has configured the book as a series of walking, bus, Tube, or (occasionally) taxi trips to explore the areas of the city where these people are to be found, and she has included handy maps of each district (Notting Hill, Chelsea, etc.).
Given that the filthy rich never want to be talked about and certainly wouldn't give interviews, Knowles resorts to subterfuge by talking to the people who know them, old school friends, acquaintances, servants and so on who are willing to spill the beans on condition that they cannot be identified and their real names are not used. Many of them are delighted to be able to unburden themselves about the the absurd behaviour of the people they work for and the working conditions they have to put up with.
The first section of the book is a slightly off-putting exploration of how the filthy rich actually make their money; this becomes quite technical to a point where one begins to suspect that the author is actually interested. But then she eases off on all the detailed talk about hedge funds and derivatives, and gets into describing who these people are and, perhaps even more interestingly, who the other people are, a rung or two lower on the social ladder, who cater to their every desire: the butler class.
Caroline Knowles writes well and intelligently, and her very slightly ironic tone is just right; the temptation to be openly indignant or angry about the existence of these absurd and wasteful parasites is kept well in check. She is also very funny, when describing some of the foibles of these spoilt, childish people and their utterly pointless existences.
If you live in London you *must* read this. If you don't, you'll probably be glad you don't have to think about these people, who despite all their efforts to be distant and impossible to approach, are somehow always present. Just as it's said that you're never more than 6 feet away from a rat in London, the same applies to these equally repulsive rich people; if you live anywhere in London, there's always one not far away.
Of course it's easy to criticise this book for what it is not; Knowles cannot suggest any solutions to the problem she so brilliantly brings out into the open, and she has nothing to say about what anyone might do to bring social inequality to an end, but I don't suppose she could have been expected to do that.
As a former impecunious inhabitant of Notting Hill when it was badly run down and all the houses were subdivided into HMOs (Houses in Multiple Occupation or, to put it more simply, rooming houses), I'm interested in the process of gentrification, and to her credit Knowles does describe this quite extensively. However what's missing here is a longer historical perspective of how a city like London has always been like this, occupied by filthy rich people who require poorer people living near them who will serve them, clean their toilets, walk their dogs, and look after their children.
This story of the rich and the poor is so old that its beginning cannot be discerned, still less its ending and how that might come about (for more on this see Walter Scheidel: "The Great Leveler: Violence and the History of Inequality from the Stone Age to the Twenty-First Century"). It would have been interesting to see the Author taking a longer view to consider how today's filthy rich, and the gentrification they cause, was preceded by previous generations doing the same thing, when other run-down areas of London (like Islington in the time of Orwell, or Battersea today) were gentrified by the same sort of people.
What we have now, however, is a more open sense of indignation about the behaviour of these people and how they get away with offshoring their money and not paying their taxes, and so on. Books like this (and there will be others) do help to keep that indignation alive, and encourage a subversive spirit that is surely taking us in the right direction. For that reason, they make an important contribution. This is one of the best - although it is already becoming slightly dated because it was written before sanctions were put on to the Russian oligarchs who live, or lived, in London.
Caroline walked the streets of affluent London. Along the way she meets with a colorful cast of characters. Members of the ultra-rich, people who live in close proximity to them, and the professionals who serve them.
ᴍʏ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛꜱ
When I picked up this book I was seeking something voyeuristic. I thought it would be a peek through the windows at a life I would never have. I expected to feel envy. I thought inwoukd end this book saying "I wish I had that."
Instead I found a story of lonely, disconnected people. So consumed by their wealth they have lost connection to reality.
At first we meet people who made their money through vague "banking" work and "private equity". But as the story continues we meet people who have inherited wealth and have no concept of value. People who don't work because they don't have to. Instead they roam London, bored, spending excessive amounts and obtaining any substance they can to help them feel something.
The professional serving class are the real windows. They have seen the truth. Lonely, paranoid people who pay to be surrounded by people. They don't have real friends. They're constantly in competition with one another to be that little wealthier, that little classier. Yachts that stay moored so the owners can get on and off and invite their friends over. Private streets roamed by security guards.
I was left feeling deeply unsettled. And I guess the old adage is true, money doesn't buy happiness.
This is an important and engaging study of the ultra-rich. Beautifully written, full of punchy and witty insights, this is more than an investigation into the quirks and paranoias of the super-wealthy, but an exploration of the secretive, shocking and insecure world they have made in their image. As the author walks through London, she understands how these plutocrats maintain and reproduce their money; how they re-calibrate it and transform it into tangible and visible assets; how they employ armies of servants to manage, invest and protect their riches, themselves, their possessions, their privacy and how their families reproduce and perpetuate their exclusive status. It is essential reading in understanding how these ‘haves and have-yachts’ have transformed and disfigured London, distorting a far wider global environment along the way.
Picked this up on a recommended rack at Waterstones when visiting London from the US. I thought it would be good, but not this good.
I leaned both intricacies about London streets and locales that I’m familiar with, but also journeyed through macroeconomics and social commentary. The characters and the weaving of the narrative as a westward walk is perfect structure for this important subject matter.
It’s interesting. I don’t really agree with her conclusion… that the plutocrats are anxious and unhappy. I have interacted with many of them (via work) and that was not my takeaway, in most cases. (I found them entitled, and completely out of touch with reality but generally enjoying being insanely wealthy.). Still, if you have never had a peek into this world, this is a good summary.
3.5 stars I found the topic fascinating but would have loved a bit more depth and facts/numbers on some of her observations. At points she seems quite biased and expresses her own opinion a bit too much rather than keeping it neutral or objective. As somebody that lives in London, it is an easy to read way of seeing how the other half live.
Caroline Knowles takes you on a tour of London, but the side most of us don’t get a foot in. I found myself immersed in the world she describes filled with, tech tycoons, yuppies, oligarchs and yummy mummies to name a few. It also provided a nice historical context behind the changing London.
Thoroughly enjoyed and I’m not ordinarily a fan of non fiction!
Excellent and disturbing at the same time, the book outlines the grotesqueness of the lives of the super-rich, along with the correct assertion thst such concentrations of wealth cannot logically nor morally continue.
started reading this book for class. it’s a topic that’s infinitely interesting to me and i just love how the book plays out. it truly tells a story of the super rich, and the stories are batshit insane.
I was hoping for more science and statistics, and instead it's mostly gossipy or rage-baiting. As a resident of some of the neighborhood depicted, I sometimes couldn't relate with the narration at all, but still found the book quite interesting and easy to read
Been thinking about living in London recently and about the legal sector, which really is just part of the capital-accumulation process that this book very nicely chronicles. Is there a useful end to it? Probably not.
Let’s just say that I disagree with the author’s basic premise, that the rich in London is inherently destroying the city. I read to learn more about London, which you will.
The form of the book, a take on the Canterbury Tales, where the people Knowles meets are named after distinguishing features of the stories they tell, is a fun way to chronicle the lives of plutocratic Londoners. Reading about streets of London that I know quite well was also fun.
Sometimes some of the stories she uncovers about how the rich spend their money and time are intriguing. This is especially true when Knowles opens a window into how they perceive themselves and the worlds around them. The story of Soviet, a Russian businessman who formed part of the intellectual elite of Soviet society and made money leveraging that education when the Soviet Union fell, who reminisces fondly on the egalitarianism that defined his upbringing despite its deprivations from the comfort of his multi-million pound home in Kensington was one such insight: it reveals a conflict of desires and allegiances.
Unfortunately, Knowles only occasionally unearths such nuances, which undoubtably abound, presenting instead a reductive picture of plutocratic London as vacuous, greedy, ostentatious, lonely, exploitative and bored. Rich London is no doubt all of those things to some extent (maybe even a great extent), but it must also be more than that — they are people like everyone else after all. I am sympathetic to her view in general: the rich undoubtably arrogate more than their fair share and use their wealth in irresponsible or denigrating ways, but their foibles are the foibles of most of humanity. The working and middle classes (to use what I deem to be rather denigrating categorisations) also have gambling addictions, sexual perversions and group forming tendencies if not the means to indulge them to the same extent as the ultra-high-net-worth individuals do. And while their rewards are disproportionate to their work, there are plenty of rich people who have made significant contributions economically, culturally, technologically. The smartphone, internet banking, Waiting for Godot, Lawrence of Arabia (the film and the person) are all products of privilege or have made their creators extremely wealthy — this is both a reflection of the vocations and inclinations wealth affords and of the wealth that creation engenders; there's give and take. This book focusses exclusively on the take (reading this book you'd think the wealthy are all profligate free-loaders or phoney philanthropists which just isn't the case), and in so doing neglects the most dichotomous and interesting part of the story.
I can't believe I'm defending the wealthy, but I think there's more to it than this book relates.