What do you think?
Rate this book
Success
In Success Amis pens a mismatched pair of foster brothers--one "a quivering condom of neurosis and ineptitude," the other a "bundle of contempt, vanity and stock-response"--in a single London flat. He binds them with ties of class hatred, sexual rivalry, and disappointed love, and throws in a disloyal girlfriend and a spectacularly unstable sister to create a modern-day Jacobean revenge comedy that soars with malicious poetry.
224 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1978
54 people are currently reading
1894 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."
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 162 reviews
November 14, 2015
A powerful and very affecting novel. Very funny. When the debauched Gregory Riding undertakes the profound sexual humiliation of his step-brother, Terence Service, he turns him from shy wallflower suffering low self-esteem to a wily aggressor seeking revenge. Martin Amis once said at a New York Public Library talk that this book was in part modeled on Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita, and you can see echoes of Humbert Humbert's enormous vanity in Gregory. The narrative moves gradually and convincingly from light to dark comedy, and this too seems a lesson learned from VN's great masterpiece. Amis has always been open about his models (Saul Bellow's another) and he takes the master's lessons here and makes them his own. I won't go into into how everything skillfully doubles back on itself, how it goes all Rapturesque in the end. Vigorously recommended.
August 7, 2014
While Success may be young Martin Amis at his vilest, it also stands as his first fully realized work as a writer, introducing several themes, narrative tricks and character types which he would go on to develop until they fully flourished in the triptych of masterpieces he wrote from the mid-80’s to the mid-90’s: Money, London Fields, and The Information. Spanning the course of a year, this third novel from everyone’s favorite author who kind of looks like Mick Jagger tells the story of two repulsive and fiendishly misogynistic foster brothers who share the same the flat and spend an impressive amount of time plotting humiliations to enact on one another. The blurb on the book cherry picks the quotes that best describe Terry and Gregory (respectively): “‘a quivering condom of neurosis and ineptitude,’ the other a ‘bundle of contempt, vanity and stock-response’.” The two obviously function as foils for Amis to better satirize the rotting remnants of the British class system—Gregory is urban, good-looking, a fop; Terry is unattractive, unconfident, a slob—but more importantly they represent everything the author despises in the casual cruelty of how men treat women. This is an oppressive read, and as the two cads trade-off first person narration duties, the reader is hard-pressed not to be disgusted by the wanton acts of brutal sexism these two enact and rationalize as perfectly normal ways to treat women. But remember, Amis has always been an author with a gamely Nabokovian awareness of the relationship between author and work and reader, and here he does a fearless if not admirably reckless job at painting a merciless condemnation of brute masculinity. Success is a work of comedic meanness—one cannot help but feel just awful for Ursula, the poor, mentally disturbed sister who clings loyally to her brothers in a tragic Ophelliaesque fashion— and shows a raw and exuberant talent hitting his caustic, polysyllabic stride. Success is a runaway train of a novel written with true verbose swagger.
March 5, 2018
If I never see the words yob and tonto again it will be too soon.
September 6, 2008
“Who does a bullshitter bullshit when he is alone?” Had the Sphinx asked this of Oedipus it wouldn’t probably wouldn’t have ended up eating itself. Now, millennia later, Martin Amis provides an answer for this ages-old quandary: a bullshitter alone will bullshit the reader, at least when he’s narrating a story. While there have been many exercises in showcasing the importance of reliability in point of view and narration, Amis pulls out all the stops and adds a twist to this tale by having not just one bullshitting narrator, but a pair of untrustworthy chum-scrubbers. Sometimes when new ground is broken it seems to have been done by a backhoe crew on amphetamines, other times it could be accomplished by a rhesus monkey with a spork; Amis appears to shoot somewhere in the middle, a novel concept that doesn't quite make a great novel.
The story goes a bit like this: a chronicle of a pivotal year in the contrasting lives of Terrance Service and Gregory Riding, provided on a month-by-month basis, with both Terry and Greg taking turns recounting their notable experiences during the elapsed month. This awkward pair of narrators are foster brothers; Terry has lived a pretty fucked-up life, growing up in near-squalor and having witnessed his father kill his sister (and his mother was also buried when he was quite young, an affair his father is also suspected in having a hand in) and Greg is the scion of the wealthy family that adopts the orphaned Terry. The young duo failed to grow up close companions, and now in their twenties, the two are living together in London during the tumultuous year which they are alternately narrating.
Terry is pretty much a loser; can’t get laid, has some crappy dead-end job, and is quickly losing his ugly ginger hair. He also functions as a pillar of honesty in this book, as he admits his shortcomings and also announces that his whole intention is to get the reader to hate Gregory (honesty optional). While Terry is on the level in these matters with the reader, his associations with Greg are a tangled knot of half-truths and utter bullshit, hoping to somehow appear on equal ground with his thoroughly reprehensible roommate. Gregory, on the other hand, is completely full of shit from the giddy-up, embellishing everything as far as he sees possible, and generally taking every opportunity to favorably compare his ‘mighty teeth’ to Terry’s gnarled and yellow chompers and his gorgeous locks to Terry’s rapidly-disappearing and disheveled ginger straw. While Terry drinks alone in empty cafes so he can arrive back at the flat with some fabricated account of what he’s been up to, Greg is busy laying the wood in a phenomenal manner to everyone inhabiting the British Isles capable of surviving through his gymnastic gamut of pleasure-giving.
Over the course of the year, the reader is slowly informed that things aren’t what they appear to be, which isn’t surprising when looking at the amount of misinformation being passed along from both narrators. In many cases, the same events are covered by both narrators; Terry tends to stretch the truth in making everything seem twice as horrible and unfortunate as it actually is, and Gregory makes sure to fib in just how awesomely he managed to come out of the same situation. As the story progresses, the brothers slowly begin to look at the world through the other’s eyes; Terry finds it within himself to begin looking past the negative and embracing what is slowly beginning to go right in his life, and Greg begins to dwell on minor failures he is subjected to, slowly spiraling into a feeling of ennui he’s previously never ever suspected he could fall victim to. Two events seem to spur on the dual changes, the first being a 180 in the matter of their social status; Terry starts to find himself appreciated at work and, finally finding success somewhere, is able to quit obsessing on his lacking sex life, and Gregory’s previously ‘prestigious’ job at an art gallery is exposed to be menial and completely ridiculously low-paying, basically being a glorified ‘gopher’ for the owners while his family’s once-immense wealth gradually diminishes. The second major element comes from outside their troubled relationship, concerning their sister Ursula. Whereas Greg once enjoyed Ursula’s affections (and apparently indulged in them a wee bit too much; read incest) it appears that his neglect for her during his self-indulgent lifestyle has pushed her away, and she begins shacking up with Terry, who has been jerking off over this fantasy for a decade.
I’d like to mention that Amis’ use of Ursula as little more than a neurotic, brother-humping cum-dumpster to prod the story along is one of the major drawbacks of the book. “Success” would have probably been better if this character had been completely left out; I felt that the slowly-changing social/class status of the brothers and their mettle being tested in the face of adversity was enough to get the point across; sister-swapping was just a gratuitous mess that didn’t seem like much more than a hasty idea for shock-value. I hate to say it, but it meant a lot more to see a character’s response to a situation as a means of conflict resolution than it was to highlight Terry and Greg’s varied ups and downs based on which was currently buggering their kid sis.
Other negatives about this book include the predictable outcome (which is pretty apparent by the “June” chapter) and the uneven tapering off in narration as the year progresses. As the climax approaches, it seems odd that the characters have seemingly less and less to say about their reversal of fortunes, with the last two months of the year taking up a mere 20 pages which serve only to gloss over the highest peaks of the mountains of changes in their respective landscapes.
As far as the positive’s go, I do think that Amis does an excellent job writing, he is almost always deliciously eloquent (even while trolling in the doldrums narrating as Terry) and his arrogant writing in the vein of Greg should be preserved through the ages for all future narcissists to admire and learn from, I would certainly not object to giving another of Amis’ books a chance. Even though I think this story seemed to lose steam towards the end (where it was most important to keep the momentum), I prefer to think that perhaps Amis was aiming for a quick one-two punch knockout ending, which I may simply not have enjoyed, hoping for a little more substance on the narrators’ behalf than Terry’s snide “ha ha, chumps of Riding Manor, thanks for being a stepping-stone on my way to prosperity for lodging my ungracious ass instead of letting Uncle Creepy feel me up in the orphanage” and Greg’s complete retreat within the confines of his own defeated and sullied soul. Overall, however, even if I found the outcome rather weak, I was generally pleased with the way that Amis managed to tell the story through two distinct and captivating points of view.
Just as a sidenote, there’s a blurb on the back cover which is relatively interesting in describing Amis’ ‘voice’ as: “rising above the pseudoprofundo babble of his competitors”. While this was written before the names I’m about to drop, in considering this book I couldn’t help but realize the large number of contemporaries that I feel are obviously influenced by Amis: to a reader 30 years after publication I got the impression it was a pastiche of Palahniuk (when narrating as Terry), Augusten Burroughs (the troubled Service and Riding families), and Bret Easton Ellis (narration style and the snobbish faux-high-society fuckery and debauching).
The story goes a bit like this: a chronicle of a pivotal year in the contrasting lives of Terrance Service and Gregory Riding, provided on a month-by-month basis, with both Terry and Greg taking turns recounting their notable experiences during the elapsed month. This awkward pair of narrators are foster brothers; Terry has lived a pretty fucked-up life, growing up in near-squalor and having witnessed his father kill his sister (and his mother was also buried when he was quite young, an affair his father is also suspected in having a hand in) and Greg is the scion of the wealthy family that adopts the orphaned Terry. The young duo failed to grow up close companions, and now in their twenties, the two are living together in London during the tumultuous year which they are alternately narrating.
Terry is pretty much a loser; can’t get laid, has some crappy dead-end job, and is quickly losing his ugly ginger hair. He also functions as a pillar of honesty in this book, as he admits his shortcomings and also announces that his whole intention is to get the reader to hate Gregory (honesty optional). While Terry is on the level in these matters with the reader, his associations with Greg are a tangled knot of half-truths and utter bullshit, hoping to somehow appear on equal ground with his thoroughly reprehensible roommate. Gregory, on the other hand, is completely full of shit from the giddy-up, embellishing everything as far as he sees possible, and generally taking every opportunity to favorably compare his ‘mighty teeth’ to Terry’s gnarled and yellow chompers and his gorgeous locks to Terry’s rapidly-disappearing and disheveled ginger straw. While Terry drinks alone in empty cafes so he can arrive back at the flat with some fabricated account of what he’s been up to, Greg is busy laying the wood in a phenomenal manner to everyone inhabiting the British Isles capable of surviving through his gymnastic gamut of pleasure-giving.
Over the course of the year, the reader is slowly informed that things aren’t what they appear to be, which isn’t surprising when looking at the amount of misinformation being passed along from both narrators. In many cases, the same events are covered by both narrators; Terry tends to stretch the truth in making everything seem twice as horrible and unfortunate as it actually is, and Gregory makes sure to fib in just how awesomely he managed to come out of the same situation. As the story progresses, the brothers slowly begin to look at the world through the other’s eyes; Terry finds it within himself to begin looking past the negative and embracing what is slowly beginning to go right in his life, and Greg begins to dwell on minor failures he is subjected to, slowly spiraling into a feeling of ennui he’s previously never ever suspected he could fall victim to. Two events seem to spur on the dual changes, the first being a 180 in the matter of their social status; Terry starts to find himself appreciated at work and, finally finding success somewhere, is able to quit obsessing on his lacking sex life, and Gregory’s previously ‘prestigious’ job at an art gallery is exposed to be menial and completely ridiculously low-paying, basically being a glorified ‘gopher’ for the owners while his family’s once-immense wealth gradually diminishes. The second major element comes from outside their troubled relationship, concerning their sister Ursula. Whereas Greg once enjoyed Ursula’s affections (and apparently indulged in them a wee bit too much; read incest) it appears that his neglect for her during his self-indulgent lifestyle has pushed her away, and she begins shacking up with Terry, who has been jerking off over this fantasy for a decade.
I’d like to mention that Amis’ use of Ursula as little more than a neurotic, brother-humping cum-dumpster to prod the story along is one of the major drawbacks of the book. “Success” would have probably been better if this character had been completely left out; I felt that the slowly-changing social/class status of the brothers and their mettle being tested in the face of adversity was enough to get the point across; sister-swapping was just a gratuitous mess that didn’t seem like much more than a hasty idea for shock-value. I hate to say it, but it meant a lot more to see a character’s response to a situation as a means of conflict resolution than it was to highlight Terry and Greg’s varied ups and downs based on which was currently buggering their kid sis.
Other negatives about this book include the predictable outcome (which is pretty apparent by the “June” chapter) and the uneven tapering off in narration as the year progresses. As the climax approaches, it seems odd that the characters have seemingly less and less to say about their reversal of fortunes, with the last two months of the year taking up a mere 20 pages which serve only to gloss over the highest peaks of the mountains of changes in their respective landscapes.
As far as the positive’s go, I do think that Amis does an excellent job writing, he is almost always deliciously eloquent (even while trolling in the doldrums narrating as Terry) and his arrogant writing in the vein of Greg should be preserved through the ages for all future narcissists to admire and learn from, I would certainly not object to giving another of Amis’ books a chance. Even though I think this story seemed to lose steam towards the end (where it was most important to keep the momentum), I prefer to think that perhaps Amis was aiming for a quick one-two punch knockout ending, which I may simply not have enjoyed, hoping for a little more substance on the narrators’ behalf than Terry’s snide “ha ha, chumps of Riding Manor, thanks for being a stepping-stone on my way to prosperity for lodging my ungracious ass instead of letting Uncle Creepy feel me up in the orphanage” and Greg’s complete retreat within the confines of his own defeated and sullied soul. Overall, however, even if I found the outcome rather weak, I was generally pleased with the way that Amis managed to tell the story through two distinct and captivating points of view.
Just as a sidenote, there’s a blurb on the back cover which is relatively interesting in describing Amis’ ‘voice’ as: “rising above the pseudoprofundo babble of his competitors”. While this was written before the names I’m about to drop, in considering this book I couldn’t help but realize the large number of contemporaries that I feel are obviously influenced by Amis: to a reader 30 years after publication I got the impression it was a pastiche of Palahniuk (when narrating as Terry), Augusten Burroughs (the troubled Service and Riding families), and Bret Easton Ellis (narration style and the snobbish faux-high-society fuckery and debauching).
February 6, 2013
An extremely clever and elegant novel about the subjective nature of success and failure. For once, Amis wraps up the story properly and has a satisfying conclusion.
The sex scene near the end must rank as both one of the most distasteful and one of the most memorable in recent literature.
August 7, 2025
Okay, so hear me out. Martin Amis has been on the list for me for a while as an iconic British writer, a fixture in post-modernist satire, AND the son of the also iconic British comic writer Kingsley Amis. Arguably I should have started with the much more famous The Zone of Interest or Money, but… this one was a lot shorter.
Suffice it to say, “satire” is a severe understatement. This is a cocktail of sardonic, bitter, vitriolic, angry British (insert plural for man-child… men-children?). Obviously, that’s the point of the book: success in our culture means, what, exactly?? The two narrators are the butt of their own joke. And the writing is just so intelligent in its black comedy.
Alas, I wasn’t in the headspace to be able to stomach these two or their antics, but fully appreciated the genius that went into creating them.
Suffice it to say, “satire” is a severe understatement. This is a cocktail of sardonic, bitter, vitriolic, angry British (insert plural for man-child… men-children?). Obviously, that’s the point of the book: success in our culture means, what, exactly?? The two narrators are the butt of their own joke. And the writing is just so intelligent in its black comedy.
Alas, I wasn’t in the headspace to be able to stomach these two or their antics, but fully appreciated the genius that went into creating them.
February 28, 2021
Gregory and Terry are brothers. Well not blood brothers - Terry is adopted after his father kills his sister.
Gregory has it all - looks, money, friends and crazy social life and a job in an art gallery which feels like it is there to give him something to do during the day. Terry is short, plump and balding and in a dead end sales job.
Terry is humiliated on a daily basis by Gregorys effortless success with girls (he likes boys too), whereas he is continually rebuffed and perpetually desparate.
But slowly the tables turn, and Terry becomes the top dog. Gregory sinks into a slough of despair, loses his job and his glitzy friends desert him.
Not sure I bought the premise of this book, but I did enjoy the way that Amis writes about sleaze and sleazy characters. He does it in a way that is darkly funny
Gregory has it all - looks, money, friends and crazy social life and a job in an art gallery which feels like it is there to give him something to do during the day. Terry is short, plump and balding and in a dead end sales job.
Terry is humiliated on a daily basis by Gregorys effortless success with girls (he likes boys too), whereas he is continually rebuffed and perpetually desparate.
But slowly the tables turn, and Terry becomes the top dog. Gregory sinks into a slough of despair, loses his job and his glitzy friends desert him.
Not sure I bought the premise of this book, but I did enjoy the way that Amis writes about sleaze and sleazy characters. He does it in a way that is darkly funny
October 7, 2012
Success is a possum of a novel. Let me be specific, I don't mean a cute animated creature hamming along with a William Shatner voiceover: Rosebud. I mean the feral variety. Years ago I was leaving a cafe with some friends and turning on the headlights I was startled by a snarling possum glaring at me, threatening me with an ever painful and likely lethal gnawing. I am often bothered by that memory.
Amis bares his teeth in this one, a fifty-fifty approach to diverting fortunes. The narrative begins in a tone of excess, every action is hypertrophied beyond satire. There was a need to brace for impact. I became sad that I was going to hate this book. Then it abruptly congealed. The two characters Terry and Gregory changed orbits in that terrifying street scene of an early 1970s London. The novel screamed to its conclusion . There was a pause, I was nearly breathless. Amis brings a smirk to every page as well as our assured doom. I tend to think he means it.
Amis bares his teeth in this one, a fifty-fifty approach to diverting fortunes. The narrative begins in a tone of excess, every action is hypertrophied beyond satire. There was a need to brace for impact. I became sad that I was going to hate this book. Then it abruptly congealed. The two characters Terry and Gregory changed orbits in that terrifying street scene of an early 1970s London. The novel screamed to its conclusion . There was a pause, I was nearly breathless. Amis brings a smirk to every page as well as our assured doom. I tend to think he means it.
September 20, 2017
I absolutely love Martin Amis, been a fan since I read Lionel Asbo, the only Martin Amis book I didn't like was Night Train, a couple of books later, it's good to see he hasn't disappointed.
Success is a hard one to review, such mixed feelings about it, but not in a good way. I think reading Ian McEwan's First Love, Last Rites kinda inoculated me for the subject matter in this book. Incest, and yob-phobia + class pretentiousness are a bit hard to swallow, but Martin is a skilled writer. This book reads well, its narrative style, the juxtaposition between Terrence and Gregory's POVs of similar/related experiences gives the novel quite some depth.
It's not as awe-inspiring as say Rachel Papers or Money, but a good read nonetheless.
Success is a hard one to review, such mixed feelings about it, but not in a good way. I think reading Ian McEwan's First Love, Last Rites kinda inoculated me for the subject matter in this book. Incest, and yob-phobia + class pretentiousness are a bit hard to swallow, but Martin is a skilled writer. This book reads well, its narrative style, the juxtaposition between Terrence and Gregory's POVs of similar/related experiences gives the novel quite some depth.
It's not as awe-inspiring as say Rachel Papers or Money, but a good read nonetheless.
December 19, 2014
Dozens of laugh out loud moments - not so much incidents per se; more the beguiling virtuosity of Amis' metaphors. Includes one of the greatest sentences ever published: 'He said "hello" like a resolute halitotic sounding out a new friendship.' Certain passages in the novel, particularly Geoffrey at his most arch, stand shoulder to shoulder with Nabokov.
March 4, 2012
The Terrys of you out there may not appreciate that the portrayal of the working class yob is a painfully accurate caricature (who am I kidding, the Terrys of the world wouldn't read something as intelligent as this) and all you wonderful narcissus types may not see the funny side of watching the positively divine Gregory fall apart but I don't think that should detract from your overall enjoyment.
Martin Amis really is quite the writer, eloquent in the extreme, ever so witty when he chooses to be but in this instance it's not quite up to the very high standards I would prefer.
Going back to his early work like this I am learning a lot more about him as a storyteller. His characters throughout his career are repeated to such an extent that I must assume that there is more than a small amount of all those Terrys and Keiths in his Gregory-like personality.
And the constant reference to bad teeth, has anyone seen a picture of Martin Amis's teeth?
Of course I enjoyed this book. You don't need to bleedin' be Auberon Waugh to delight in it. Christ Terry!
The dual narrative is fun, both characters are equally awful and the way they both lie about their exploits really make you consider the tools of storytelling and the importance of understanding your sources when making judgements based on the information provided. If you don't want to engage your mind whilst reading, Terry, then please feel free to refrain from picking up this novel.
I know it's 30 years old now but the points made about British culture and the changing face of the populace are still valid which I think probably says more about the state of David Cameron's Britain than the quality of the writing but adds an extra level of interest in reading it so long after publication. That and all of the vulgar, gratuitous, sexual descriptions that will make you check nobody is reading over your shoulder on the bus.
Martin Amis really is quite the writer, eloquent in the extreme, ever so witty when he chooses to be but in this instance it's not quite up to the very high standards I would prefer.
Going back to his early work like this I am learning a lot more about him as a storyteller. His characters throughout his career are repeated to such an extent that I must assume that there is more than a small amount of all those Terrys and Keiths in his Gregory-like personality.
And the constant reference to bad teeth, has anyone seen a picture of Martin Amis's teeth?
Of course I enjoyed this book. You don't need to bleedin' be Auberon Waugh to delight in it. Christ Terry!
The dual narrative is fun, both characters are equally awful and the way they both lie about their exploits really make you consider the tools of storytelling and the importance of understanding your sources when making judgements based on the information provided. If you don't want to engage your mind whilst reading, Terry, then please feel free to refrain from picking up this novel.
I know it's 30 years old now but the points made about British culture and the changing face of the populace are still valid which I think probably says more about the state of David Cameron's Britain than the quality of the writing but adds an extra level of interest in reading it so long after publication. That and all of the vulgar, gratuitous, sexual descriptions that will make you check nobody is reading over your shoulder on the bus.
October 8, 2007
I bought this secondhand about 6 months ago; there seems to be a pretty much unending library of Martin Amis books to read, every time I think I've got the measure of them I find another one I haven't heard of.
Then I lost it in the house and just found it again before reading it. I think it's my favourite Martin Amis book. (!). The point-of-view story of two foster brothers, polar opposites and each one equally unpleasant. They start to go through a series of experiences that begin to tip their fortunes, one on the way up, the other on the way down. You need to read this to see how convincing the convergence of the characters is.
I think the reason this appealed to me is that it resonates so heavily with the warped, over-confident persona I often assume when writing and interacting on the internet. There are passages in this book I want to cut out and keep, and feel like they were written directly for the asshole I keep trying to project. A justification for a sense of humour I was not sure was entirely legitimate.
This book is so black and so good.
Then I lost it in the house and just found it again before reading it. I think it's my favourite Martin Amis book. (!). The point-of-view story of two foster brothers, polar opposites and each one equally unpleasant. They start to go through a series of experiences that begin to tip their fortunes, one on the way up, the other on the way down. You need to read this to see how convincing the convergence of the characters is.
I think the reason this appealed to me is that it resonates so heavily with the warped, over-confident persona I often assume when writing and interacting on the internet. There are passages in this book I want to cut out and keep, and feel like they were written directly for the asshole I keep trying to project. A justification for a sense of humour I was not sure was entirely legitimate.
This book is so black and so good.
September 15, 2015
Smoking carriages on the underground and casual racism... must be London in the seventies. I read The Rachael Papers and Dead Babies some years ago and seem to remember that I found them more impressive than this offering.
July 7, 2021
Постмодернистская форма построения в виде потоков сознания названных братцев довольно интересна, но похабное содержание может вызвать интерес, пожалуй, у прыщавых юнцов, переживающих пубертатный период.
September 27, 2019
Worse than The Rachel Papers. I wouldn't even have thought it was possible.
February 14, 2021
That's it. I am revisiting all of Martin Amis work. I feel I was too young when I read London Fields and Money. Not that I didn't enjoy them at the time, I just didn't get the same level of wide eyed enjoyment that I got out of a first reading of Success.
What verve! What controversy! What humour! The chapter introduction about Incest made me laugh out loud whilst reading a book for the first time in a long time.
Bizarrely, the book was chosen whilst reading Dominic Sandbrook's State of Emergency. A look back at the political and social climate in 1970s Britain - where this is book is set. Sandbrook uses the books Terence Service to show how through self study, hard work and effort - the working class can improve their lot. "The Yobs are taking over", cries his upper class Foster Brother, Gregory.
The book is told month by month over the course of the year. January takes you a short while to get into the swing of the narration. The same set of events are told by Terence and Gregory. Both unforgettable characters. Terrence - riddled by self doubt, from a troubled background, worried constantly about destitution and in a mundane job that he feels he is at risk of being made redundant from.
Gregory - the opposite. "Working" at an art gallery and flouncing around London in the dandiest of clothes, that often includes a cape. Women (and men) yearn for him sexually. He has magnificent teeth.
But of course, all is not quite as it seems and over the months, we have the building up and knocking off the characters.
Unfavorably delicious in some of the events described but written in prose that makes you chuckle along with when not laughing aloud, this is as good as literature gets.
Dare I try "Dead Babies" next?
What verve! What controversy! What humour! The chapter introduction about Incest made me laugh out loud whilst reading a book for the first time in a long time.
Bizarrely, the book was chosen whilst reading Dominic Sandbrook's State of Emergency. A look back at the political and social climate in 1970s Britain - where this is book is set. Sandbrook uses the books Terence Service to show how through self study, hard work and effort - the working class can improve their lot. "The Yobs are taking over", cries his upper class Foster Brother, Gregory.
The book is told month by month over the course of the year. January takes you a short while to get into the swing of the narration. The same set of events are told by Terence and Gregory. Both unforgettable characters. Terrence - riddled by self doubt, from a troubled background, worried constantly about destitution and in a mundane job that he feels he is at risk of being made redundant from.
Gregory - the opposite. "Working" at an art gallery and flouncing around London in the dandiest of clothes, that often includes a cape. Women (and men) yearn for him sexually. He has magnificent teeth.
But of course, all is not quite as it seems and over the months, we have the building up and knocking off the characters.
Unfavorably delicious in some of the events described but written in prose that makes you chuckle along with when not laughing aloud, this is as good as literature gets.
Dare I try "Dead Babies" next?
July 5, 2009
In one corner, we have Terry, a tragic character who is convinced that the universe has conspired to make sure no woman will ever sleep with him. His teeth are bad, he's shedding hair, and he is in constant fear of losing his job in sales. In the other corner is his foster brother Gregory, beautiful and bisexual, a gallery worker who flounces around London living the high life and wearing a cape.
"Success," Martin Amis' third novel, follows a year of their lives as roommates in a flat better suited for one. [Gregory must go through Terry's bedroom to use the bathroom; Terry must go through Gregory's room to get to the kitchen:]. The story is told in alternate points of view, starting with Terry's take on events, then followed with Gregory's perception, in which sometimes only the barest of details are similar to what Terry has said. Early in the story, which is very reader-aware, Terry confesses that he wants to make you hate Gregory, too. At the same time, Gregory's biological sister [Terry's foster sister:] Ursala is becoming unhinged. She is a waify late-teen, who inspires all sorts of naughty ideas in both men.
This is the best use of voice I've seen in recent history. Blindly open this book to any page, read a paragraph and you will know for sure if it is Gregory or Terry's side of the story. Gregory is high-falootin' and dramatic; Terry is a hot pot of self loathing. And when changes begin to occur within the characters, there are subtle changes in voice that still ring true to who they are. Terry develops a calmness midway through the book when he thinks he is finally about to seal the deal with Jan, a temp in his office. As Gregory's life unravels, he becomes more honest. First dropping an untruth, then doubling back to clarify that what he has said was a lie.
Ursala? She's just a mess.
I liked this, these long monologues with sudden surprisingly funny lines and unreliable -- and pretty unlikeable -- narrators.
"Success," Martin Amis' third novel, follows a year of their lives as roommates in a flat better suited for one. [Gregory must go through Terry's bedroom to use the bathroom; Terry must go through Gregory's room to get to the kitchen:]. The story is told in alternate points of view, starting with Terry's take on events, then followed with Gregory's perception, in which sometimes only the barest of details are similar to what Terry has said. Early in the story, which is very reader-aware, Terry confesses that he wants to make you hate Gregory, too. At the same time, Gregory's biological sister [Terry's foster sister:] Ursala is becoming unhinged. She is a waify late-teen, who inspires all sorts of naughty ideas in both men.
This is the best use of voice I've seen in recent history. Blindly open this book to any page, read a paragraph and you will know for sure if it is Gregory or Terry's side of the story. Gregory is high-falootin' and dramatic; Terry is a hot pot of self loathing. And when changes begin to occur within the characters, there are subtle changes in voice that still ring true to who they are. Terry develops a calmness midway through the book when he thinks he is finally about to seal the deal with Jan, a temp in his office. As Gregory's life unravels, he becomes more honest. First dropping an untruth, then doubling back to clarify that what he has said was a lie.
Ursala? She's just a mess.
I liked this, these long monologues with sudden surprisingly funny lines and unreliable -- and pretty unlikeable -- narrators.
November 5, 2011
Success is tonto! Amis uses this word as a refrain, practically a mantra. It means loony, crazy, and cracked. It means this book is funny as all get out.
Structurally it’s not tonto at all. Rather, it’s a tightly wound double helix. Over the course of one year, each chapter representing a month, we follow two brothers, Terry Service and Gregory Riding. At an early age and after extreme familial circumstances, Terry was adopted into Gregory’s lavish household. Now the brothers live uncomfortably together in a London flat. Their sister Ursula occasionally stops by, and eventually moves in. It’s like a fucked up sitcom.
The characters are very much aware that we, the readers, are listening to them. They vie for our affection, accuse each other of making stuff up, and basically fight across the pages. The brothers are mirror images of one another. Terry doesn’t remember when he last had sex, while Gregory tells us women throw themselves at him. His green car is described as “powerful,” “ritzy,” “sleek,” “aggressive”, and “delicate.”
Gregory jokes that Terry’s legs are so short, he is amazed they reach the ground. Terry mostly makes fun of himself. “I got home at six-thirty,” he says. “Ursula and I had one of our quiet evenings together, me drinking and reading and going bald in my room, her knitting and muttering and going mad in hers, but the door between us ever-open.”
Amis writes a potent sentence, a gin and tonic with three limes, but he can do beautiful too. “I paued for two whole minutes to watch a high-flying, string-trailing jet, no more than a glinting crucifix in the deep blue above the thin salty clouds.” Ah, Success.
Structurally it’s not tonto at all. Rather, it’s a tightly wound double helix. Over the course of one year, each chapter representing a month, we follow two brothers, Terry Service and Gregory Riding. At an early age and after extreme familial circumstances, Terry was adopted into Gregory’s lavish household. Now the brothers live uncomfortably together in a London flat. Their sister Ursula occasionally stops by, and eventually moves in. It’s like a fucked up sitcom.
The characters are very much aware that we, the readers, are listening to them. They vie for our affection, accuse each other of making stuff up, and basically fight across the pages. The brothers are mirror images of one another. Terry doesn’t remember when he last had sex, while Gregory tells us women throw themselves at him. His green car is described as “powerful,” “ritzy,” “sleek,” “aggressive”, and “delicate.”
Gregory jokes that Terry’s legs are so short, he is amazed they reach the ground. Terry mostly makes fun of himself. “I got home at six-thirty,” he says. “Ursula and I had one of our quiet evenings together, me drinking and reading and going bald in my room, her knitting and muttering and going mad in hers, but the door between us ever-open.”
Amis writes a potent sentence, a gin and tonic with three limes, but he can do beautiful too. “I paued for two whole minutes to watch a high-flying, string-trailing jet, no more than a glinting crucifix in the deep blue above the thin salty clouds.” Ah, Success.
Read
April 4, 2016cinismo
Gregory e Terence sono due fratelli adottivi, la famiglia del primo ha generosamente cresciuto il secondo rimasto orfano, e non potrebbero essere più diversi, peccato che il primo sembri quel che non è e il secondo diventerà quel che non era...
prove generali per l'Informazione, due coglioni di cui si farebbe volentieri a meno, uno mitomane e megalomane, l'altro sfigato e ambiguo...che si incartano nel cinismo dell'autore, prove generali anche di quello, successivamente affinato e decisamente più a fuoco in London Fields
Gregory e Terence sono due fratelli adottivi, la famiglia del primo ha generosamente cresciuto il secondo rimasto orfano, e non potrebbero essere più diversi, peccato che il primo sembri quel che non è e il secondo diventerà quel che non era...
prove generali per l'Informazione, due coglioni di cui si farebbe volentieri a meno, uno mitomane e megalomane, l'altro sfigato e ambiguo...che si incartano nel cinismo dell'autore, prove generali anche di quello, successivamente affinato e decisamente più a fuoco in London Fields
July 14, 2007
A horrible book about horrible people. Gaah!
July 12, 2007
Ha Ha Ha! This book is great. It makes me wish I had been born twenty years earlier, so that I could enjoy the kind of London it describes.
July 24, 2014
I hate this daily ten-minute walk, along the outlines of cold squares, past dark shopfronts where cats claw at the window panes, then into the tingling strip of Queensway, through shuddering traffic and the sweet smell of yesterday’s trash. I look at girls, of course, watch aeroplanes (take me to America), buy a paper and lots more cigarettes on the way, but I don’t think I’m convincing anyone by all this.
Success! I found a good book! What a rare occurrence that seems to be nowadays. Success is a novel about two step-brothers, one prestigious, well-bred, the other a yob, an everyman, a loser. Terrence Service is the loser. Gregory Riding the well-bred, up-his-own-ass, aristocrat. Success weaves both characters perspectives into each chapter, one half is Terrence, the other Gregory. Only a young man could have written this book. It’s too experimental, too odd for anyone else.
Martin Amis often cuts from present-tense, to past-tense, to Terry, and to Gregory. It’s a unique little gimmick he’s got going on. One that works, though. The book knows what it wants to be. I can tell that Mr Amis is clearly a writer. Of course there are many writers out there. But that doesn’t mean they’re all writers. Reading Success had me nodding my head. Yes, I get it. I understand what you’re trying to convey here. I despised Gregory until later in the book. Success.
I felt sympathy for Terry, and the fact that every woman on earth seems to recoil at the sight of him. Success.
I liked the strange cutting between the two characters. It was incredibly engaging to see two quite different perspectives of the same (though not always) situation play out. Success.
Both Terry and Greg are so very well fleshed-out. So very human. And this is really all I can ask for. Give me something human. The novel does, however, peter out toward the end. I had the impression that by the end of the book Mr Amis simply didn’t know how to end it. The ending itself, the final moments of the book, were pretty weak for me, I admit. But, considering all that came before, the enjoyment I had reading Success, I’ll give it four stars.
Four stars is a lot coming me. It takes a certain something for that to happen. So, we have a successful book here! Read it! Read it! Read it! I do indeed look forward to seeing what else Mr Martin can do.
(It’s also interesting to note that Martin Amis’s father was a famous author, too. Certainly helps, I suppose. Though I read that he absolutely hated most of his son’s work, claiming it too experimental and weird. That’s harsh. But, hey, you need that type of criticism if you’re going to be a writer. I’m just glad Martin Amis wasn’t some rich-boy sitting on his castle, one day saying:
“I want to be a writer, daddy.”
No, Success shows me he really worked at it. Was really a born writer. I said that already like it’s some kind of rare thing and … well … it is. So when I see a writer with that innate talent to tell a story, I have to acknowledge it.)
Success! I found a good book! What a rare occurrence that seems to be nowadays. Success is a novel about two step-brothers, one prestigious, well-bred, the other a yob, an everyman, a loser. Terrence Service is the loser. Gregory Riding the well-bred, up-his-own-ass, aristocrat. Success weaves both characters perspectives into each chapter, one half is Terrence, the other Gregory. Only a young man could have written this book. It’s too experimental, too odd for anyone else.
Martin Amis often cuts from present-tense, to past-tense, to Terry, and to Gregory. It’s a unique little gimmick he’s got going on. One that works, though. The book knows what it wants to be. I can tell that Mr Amis is clearly a writer. Of course there are many writers out there. But that doesn’t mean they’re all writers. Reading Success had me nodding my head. Yes, I get it. I understand what you’re trying to convey here. I despised Gregory until later in the book. Success.
I felt sympathy for Terry, and the fact that every woman on earth seems to recoil at the sight of him. Success.
I liked the strange cutting between the two characters. It was incredibly engaging to see two quite different perspectives of the same (though not always) situation play out. Success.
Both Terry and Greg are so very well fleshed-out. So very human. And this is really all I can ask for. Give me something human. The novel does, however, peter out toward the end. I had the impression that by the end of the book Mr Amis simply didn’t know how to end it. The ending itself, the final moments of the book, were pretty weak for me, I admit. But, considering all that came before, the enjoyment I had reading Success, I’ll give it four stars.
Four stars is a lot coming me. It takes a certain something for that to happen. So, we have a successful book here! Read it! Read it! Read it! I do indeed look forward to seeing what else Mr Martin can do.
(It’s also interesting to note that Martin Amis’s father was a famous author, too. Certainly helps, I suppose. Though I read that he absolutely hated most of his son’s work, claiming it too experimental and weird. That’s harsh. But, hey, you need that type of criticism if you’re going to be a writer. I’m just glad Martin Amis wasn’t some rich-boy sitting on his castle, one day saying:
“I want to be a writer, daddy.”
No, Success shows me he really worked at it. Was really a born writer. I said that already like it’s some kind of rare thing and … well … it is. So when I see a writer with that innate talent to tell a story, I have to acknowledge it.)
April 29, 2019
Nell'anno successivo al divino salvataggio della regina e del regime fascista, usciva il primo libro di un certo peso del non più giovanissimo Amis che, svelto come pochi a usmare l'aria che tira, quello zolfo artificiale di cui si faceva libero commercio per le strade di Londra trasformò in tossico carburante per una deliziosa macchina di parole dal motore truccato. Successo è un favoloso accumulo di tempi raddoppiati e pennate povere e veloci a tessere una ragnatela di allusioni fulminanti più che la barocca architettura degli anni tardi del nostro, non servono occhiali da sole e scorza dura per tenere a bada chissà quali malevoli riflessi piuttosto una certa fascinazione per lo sboccato, il gesto gratuito, il cinismo a maglie larghe, liquami gorgoglianti e tutti quegli altri materiali di scarto della commedia umana, ovvero tutta la minuzia che alla fin fine conta davvero a pennellare le sembianze che la mattina riflettiamo negli specchi.
A far da collante a tutto è il sesso, non il sesso declinato nelle sue varie accezioni in virtù delle varie scuole di pensiero, no, non il sesso come incontro d’amorosi sensi, come desiderio febbrile, o il sesso coniugale, o il sesso mercenario, l’attività ricreativa, l’esercizio ginnico o l’esercizio di potere, ma il sesso come rappresentazione di qualcosa, ma ci siamo dimenticati cosa cazzo volevamo rappresentare. E nulla è più divertente di quando un sistema semiotico sbarella e i segni cominciano a schizzare a destra e a sinistra come popcorn nel microonde. Nulla è più divertente nelle mani del grande moralista Amis. E si ride, si ride molto, si ride di ogni nefandezza, di ogni scorrettezza, di ogni diabolico architettare delle parti basse, si ride della working class, dei sindacati, delle minoranze etniche, dell’igiene personale, di ogni tragedia umana. E sogghigniamo in attesa della catastrofe, nell’attesa spasmodica del calare della ghigliottina, siamo feccia, siamo lettori, siamo esseri umani. E si ride cullati dalla scrittura più nabokoviana che il fans Amis sciorina a piena penna come mai nella sua carriera. (e mi viene da ridere anche pensando all’elegante scrittura di Nabokov qui immersa nell’immondizia e con i pantaloni tirati su).
La storia è semplice, è il solito doppio punto di vista marchio di fabbrica di Amis (con gli anni e col suo farsi barocco diventerà triplo quadruplo infinito), il prototipo de L’informazione, due personaggi stretti dal legame ambiguo dell’odio dell’amore del risentimento della gelosia che si sfidano su un terreno limaccioso come una discarica a cielo aperto. E in mezzo una Londra nevrotica dove tutti urlano strepitano si odiano si combattono si accoppiano e respingono a ritmo continuato. Ma la trama si può agevolmente leggere dietro la copertina, nulla è più tedioso di una trama raccontata. Alla fine ci sono solo le parole bellissime di Amis, in questo caso sporche, infantili, intossicate – astenersi chi non pratica la contestualizzazione e la mimesi, ci sono parole urticanti alle orecchie progressiste – parole che s’abbandonano a malincuore.
A far da collante a tutto è il sesso, non il sesso declinato nelle sue varie accezioni in virtù delle varie scuole di pensiero, no, non il sesso come incontro d’amorosi sensi, come desiderio febbrile, o il sesso coniugale, o il sesso mercenario, l’attività ricreativa, l’esercizio ginnico o l’esercizio di potere, ma il sesso come rappresentazione di qualcosa, ma ci siamo dimenticati cosa cazzo volevamo rappresentare. E nulla è più divertente di quando un sistema semiotico sbarella e i segni cominciano a schizzare a destra e a sinistra come popcorn nel microonde. Nulla è più divertente nelle mani del grande moralista Amis. E si ride, si ride molto, si ride di ogni nefandezza, di ogni scorrettezza, di ogni diabolico architettare delle parti basse, si ride della working class, dei sindacati, delle minoranze etniche, dell’igiene personale, di ogni tragedia umana. E sogghigniamo in attesa della catastrofe, nell’attesa spasmodica del calare della ghigliottina, siamo feccia, siamo lettori, siamo esseri umani. E si ride cullati dalla scrittura più nabokoviana che il fans Amis sciorina a piena penna come mai nella sua carriera. (e mi viene da ridere anche pensando all’elegante scrittura di Nabokov qui immersa nell’immondizia e con i pantaloni tirati su).
La storia è semplice, è il solito doppio punto di vista marchio di fabbrica di Amis (con gli anni e col suo farsi barocco diventerà triplo quadruplo infinito), il prototipo de L’informazione, due personaggi stretti dal legame ambiguo dell’odio dell’amore del risentimento della gelosia che si sfidano su un terreno limaccioso come una discarica a cielo aperto. E in mezzo una Londra nevrotica dove tutti urlano strepitano si odiano si combattono si accoppiano e respingono a ritmo continuato. Ma la trama si può agevolmente leggere dietro la copertina, nulla è più tedioso di una trama raccontata. Alla fine ci sono solo le parole bellissime di Amis, in questo caso sporche, infantili, intossicate – astenersi chi non pratica la contestualizzazione e la mimesi, ci sono parole urticanti alle orecchie progressiste – parole che s’abbandonano a malincuore.
November 22, 2014
Whenever I'm reading a book, I like to have a stock rehearsed answer for when someone asks, "What's it about?" (generally the question that follows, "whatcha reading?"). I didn't really have a good explanation for "Success", but according to the Goodreads summary it is "a modern-day Jacobean revenge comedy". OK, that's a start. So I IM'ed my husband to ask him what this means:
Me:
what is a "jacobean revenge" plot?
Husband:
Haha
Me:
?
Husband:
Funny question
You remember the movie titus?
It's Elizabethan, but fits
Basically, tragedy and death is worth revenge
Generally, somebody does a lot of horrible things
They ruin a hero's life
There is terrible suffering
Then the hero finds a way to wreak vengeful, incomprehensible horror on the bad guy
And usually destroys himself in the process
But it's a sweet self destruction the ends in the rapture of horribly violent revenge
Me:
ooh ok that's a very good explanatioN!!
thank you
Husband:
I love those stories
Very popular when the scots were fighting for the English throne
That form never has a happy ending
It isn't justice so much as annihilation
Destroy everyone who is significant to the tragedy
So all that remains are the witnesses
But in the process, feel a twisted sort of pleasure at the extreme form of suffering of the bad guy
Like when titus feeds the queen her own children
And then tells her
And then kills her
Me:
i see
Husband:
Good stuff
***
OK, so that's basically what this book is about. Amis is an incredible writer, and does much better when constrained to 250 pages (contrast with my review of "London Fields"). So you have a brilliantly talented satirist doing a modern-day Jacobean revenge comedy. Good stuff.
Me:
what is a "jacobean revenge" plot?
Husband:
Haha
Me:
?
Husband:
Funny question
You remember the movie titus?
It's Elizabethan, but fits
Basically, tragedy and death is worth revenge
Generally, somebody does a lot of horrible things
They ruin a hero's life
There is terrible suffering
Then the hero finds a way to wreak vengeful, incomprehensible horror on the bad guy
And usually destroys himself in the process
But it's a sweet self destruction the ends in the rapture of horribly violent revenge
Me:
ooh ok that's a very good explanatioN!!
thank you
Husband:
I love those stories
Very popular when the scots were fighting for the English throne
That form never has a happy ending
It isn't justice so much as annihilation
Destroy everyone who is significant to the tragedy
So all that remains are the witnesses
But in the process, feel a twisted sort of pleasure at the extreme form of suffering of the bad guy
Like when titus feeds the queen her own children
And then tells her
And then kills her
Me:
i see
Husband:
Good stuff
***
OK, so that's basically what this book is about. Amis is an incredible writer, and does much better when constrained to 250 pages (contrast with my review of "London Fields"). So you have a brilliantly talented satirist doing a modern-day Jacobean revenge comedy. Good stuff.
December 17, 2014
I read Martin Amis's Success immediately after Edward St. Aubyn's Patrick Melrose Novels. None of St. Aubyn’s fireworks here (maybe an IED or two), but overall a richer, balanced blend of character, plot and the creative use of point-of-view that is one of Amis’s trademarks. What was interesting about reading the two books in parallel is the contrast between Patrick Melrose and Gregory. Patrick is a pure product of the upper class, albeit a very damaged one. St. Aubyn draws him out in page after page after page of Patrick analyzing himself, rationalizing himself, talking, thinking and hallucinating about himself. Gregory is damaged too, but we don’t learn that as we do with Patrick, by being taken through key experiences very early in the series of novellas. Rather, we deduce it for ourselves through opaque bits of plot and dialogue...so that very late in the book when we learn what happened in Gregory’s childhood, we think, “yeah, I thought that’s what happened.” But the story of Success is the trajectories of two characters, Gregory and his step-brother Terry, that intersect at Gregory’s sister Ursula. Ursula is not a major character, though she is absolutely central to the story particularly for her role in Gregory's past. She is a lens through which we see fleeting glimpses of Terry and Gregory that are unfiltered by the characters themselves. The genius of Amis is to create a rich story with no narration, only enough plot to hold things together, while letting the characters speak for themselves and about each other. The achievement is understated, but definitely substantial. August 2014
May 10, 2012
I was afraid to continue reading Success after I finished the first two chapters. I was afraid of when I would eventually see myself in Gregory, and much, much more frightened of when I would see a piece of Mike Hart stretching out in Terry’s pasty monochromatic skin. Not only were my fears realized, they came out at the most inopportune time. I found myself in Greg as his slide hit the slipperiest slope and began its downhill tumble at an alarming pace: “I used to love the man I would become. I don’t any longer. Look at him, look at him.” Still, that is seemingly standard quarter life angst. When Terry found a way to capsulate my life, it was much more personalized:
“And I can see, too, that I’m going to have to change the way I am. My calculations about how to stay alive and sane on this particular planet have clearly been at fault. Lots of people are plenty uglier and poorer than me without seeming to mind, without the self-hate and self-pity – the sentimentality, in a word – that makes me such a quivering condom of neurosis and ineptitude. I have never been nice, but from now on, boy, am I going to be nasty. I’ll show you.”
In a dark, dank, down-and-out place, I wanted to hurt people. Indelibly. And for Amis to understand that, and render it so clearly, it is upsettingly poignant. Many a critic has said that there is no one quite like Martin Amis. And for that I am thankful. If every novelist could peer into my soul like this man, reading books would be a much more harrowing experience.
“And I can see, too, that I’m going to have to change the way I am. My calculations about how to stay alive and sane on this particular planet have clearly been at fault. Lots of people are plenty uglier and poorer than me without seeming to mind, without the self-hate and self-pity – the sentimentality, in a word – that makes me such a quivering condom of neurosis and ineptitude. I have never been nice, but from now on, boy, am I going to be nasty. I’ll show you.”
In a dark, dank, down-and-out place, I wanted to hurt people. Indelibly. And for Amis to understand that, and render it so clearly, it is upsettingly poignant. Many a critic has said that there is no one quite like Martin Amis. And for that I am thankful. If every novelist could peer into my soul like this man, reading books would be a much more harrowing experience.
April 16, 2012
Amis's novels are often a bit like swimming around in a cesspool and finding yourself stuck with a problem....turns out you have a bit of an affinity for cesspools; maybe they're your natural habitat after all? I wouldn't call this book a masterwork along the lines of Money: A Suicide Note, but on the other hand its focus exclusively on the two brothers allows for stark contrast and an interesting examination of the same pictures and events viewed through sharply differing lenses. The story's rife with filth and a certain quality of degradation, but I found myself feeling a good deal of empathy toward Greg, the "gay aesthete", while utterly reviling Terry, the "office bum". Interestingly, my girl, who read this book first, thought she identified more strongly with Terry, but the more I raged at how much of an utter tool and scumbag he was the more she started to come down on greg's side, too. I found this book to be more engrossing than actually enjoyable, and honestly a bit draining. There was no joy in finishign at least, only a stense of relief and bitter tragedy. if you like this sort of thing though, go for it...it's powerfully written and at times will make you laugh, and then feel guilty for having done so!
December 22, 2011
Two foster brothers --- Terry, a neurotic, balding foundling taken in by a rich family, grown bitter and desperate for sex; and Gregory, the lithe, graceful, snobby, louche aristocratic natural son --- live together in a small flat. Alternating the narration between the two, Amis paints a picture of conflict and depression, which only increases after Terry’s would-be girlfriend is lost, apparently, to Gregory. Midway through the book, Amis begins to twist the reader’s sympathies, so that Gregory, formerly the arrogant prick, becomes appealing, and Terry shows himself to be malevolent.
But Amis goes to far, for me. The reader knew that Gregory exaggerated his exploits, and that Terry was being harsh on himself. But quickly --- too quickly --- Gregory is reduced to a totally broken state, without any apparent external prompt (that comes later, and has little effect on his downward slide). Worse, Terry is soon the most evil shitbag on the printed page, which is too much after the reader’s spent so long laughing at and with this formerly sympathetic nebbish. Much like his father’s Ending Up, Amis’ book is simply too depraved.
But Amis goes to far, for me. The reader knew that Gregory exaggerated his exploits, and that Terry was being harsh on himself. But quickly --- too quickly --- Gregory is reduced to a totally broken state, without any apparent external prompt (that comes later, and has little effect on his downward slide). Worse, Terry is soon the most evil shitbag on the printed page, which is too much after the reader’s spent so long laughing at and with this formerly sympathetic nebbish. Much like his father’s Ending Up, Amis’ book is simply too depraved.
January 2, 2009
Both sinister and witty, Martin Amis delivers characters provocative and repulsive, foster brothers in this novel. It is the emphasis on realizing a few characters which allows him to reach great heights and explore depths of human experience, putting Amis in a select group of novelists.
Terry, born a pauper, is slovenly, drunk and undersexed, perpetually suffering his early childhood and the ongoing adult rivalry with his aristocratic, self-serving and shallow brother Gregory. Their lives run diverse trajectories, intersecting in a posh London flat they inhabit together physically, their emotional and personal struggles and successes worlds apart.
Amis returns to the filial relationship nearly thirty years later in another epistolary novel, 'The House of Meetings' (2006), also highly recommended.
Terry, born a pauper, is slovenly, drunk and undersexed, perpetually suffering his early childhood and the ongoing adult rivalry with his aristocratic, self-serving and shallow brother Gregory. Their lives run diverse trajectories, intersecting in a posh London flat they inhabit together physically, their emotional and personal struggles and successes worlds apart.
Amis returns to the filial relationship nearly thirty years later in another epistolary novel, 'The House of Meetings' (2006), also highly recommended.
May 17, 2016
Certainly amusing – he paints a lurid picture of the Thatcherite social changes that were taking place at the time – a satirical synecdoche: the fall of the fop and the rise of the yob. I enjoyed the subtle (and not so subtle) plays between the two protagonists with the subjectivity of description and recollection as they relate to self confidence, 'socio-sexual wellbeing' and – perhaps a preoccupation of Amis', emphasised to the the point of excess – financial success.
Despite the crass mysongeny being a little more balanced by moments of sensitivity in characterisation than, say, The Rachel papers, there isn't a single even half developed female character. The sexism could reasonably be read as ironic, but one of the main reasons this isn't a five star review is Amis' casual littering of the text with racist slurs. Authenticity, maybe? Shock value, probably more likely.
Despite the crass mysongeny being a little more balanced by moments of sensitivity in characterisation than, say, The Rachel papers, there isn't a single even half developed female character. The sexism could reasonably be read as ironic, but one of the main reasons this isn't a five star review is Amis' casual littering of the text with racist slurs. Authenticity, maybe? Shock value, probably more likely.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 162 reviews