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"This vast novel, well-plotted and gripping throughout, is the first that Sebastian Faulks has set in our time... the ambition and scope of the book are to be applauded. The conclusion is suitably nail-biting and, pleasingly, love triumphs. Sebastian Faulks has probably got another best-seller on his hands." @lt;br@gt;--@lt;i@gt;Spectator@lt;br@gt;@lt;/i@gt;@lt;br@gt;"A portrayal of modern London that is both richly entertaining and highly rewarding. Faulks has come as close as anyone to completing the jigsaw that is this crazy, fascinating city of ours." @lt;br@gt;--@lt;i@gt;Evening Standard@lt;/i@gt;@lt;br@gt;@lt;br@gt;@lt;br@gt;@lt;i@gt;From the Hardcover edition.@lt;/i@gt;
Book Description
Powerful contemporary novel set in London from a master of literary fiction
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Most Helpful Customer Reviews
15 of 16 people found the following review helpful
Format:Paperback
In this book, Sebastian Faulks seems to be attempting to sum up mid-noughties London in the same way that Tom Wolfe crystallized the Manhattan of twenty years previously in The Bonfire of the Vanities. A large cast of contemporary characters (including a hedge-fund manager, an Asian chutney tycoon, a barrister, a recently-appointed MP, a Polish footballer and a literary journalist) are briskly assembled as the guest-list of a dinner party which is to take place at the end of the book, and we follow several of them (plus subsidiary ones such as the son of the hedge-fund manager who's interested in mind-altering drugs and a reality TV gameshow, and the son of the tycoon who's a suicide-bomber in training) around for the period of time that gives the novel its title. It's a promising idea, and the reader is carried along for the most part by some interesting stories, but I didn't think the book held together as well as it could have.
The main problem, I think, is (what seems to be intended as) the central character: John Veals the hedge-fund manager. A lot of effort has been put into establishing him as someone who's only interested in making money, but - while this is clearly not intended to be a sympathetic trait - it has the effect of rendering him invisible. Nothing he says or does is of any interest to the reader (a fairly detailed technical account of option trading has been included by way of background to his job, but this stuff is tedious even for people who think they understand it, and it has no place in a work of entertainment). The obvious comparison is with Tom Wolfe's Sherman McCoy, who carried the full weight of The Bonfire of the Vanities; by contrast to Veals, he was a vibrant, memorable character (and the author was able to explain where his money came from in a much more entertaining fashion) who - in spite of his ultimately fatal flaws - the reader felt involved with, and we cared about what happened to him.
The characters that take up the rest of the novel are somewhat better-realised (although it seems that some of them are introduced only to illustrate some aspect of the zeitgeist before being quickly discarded), but I found that the gap at its heart made the book feel like it was always falling apart instead of coming together.
The main problem, I think, is (what seems to be intended as) the central character: John Veals the hedge-fund manager. A lot of effort has been put into establishing him as someone who's only interested in making money, but - while this is clearly not intended to be a sympathetic trait - it has the effect of rendering him invisible. Nothing he says or does is of any interest to the reader (a fairly detailed technical account of option trading has been included by way of background to his job, but this stuff is tedious even for people who think they understand it, and it has no place in a work of entertainment). The obvious comparison is with Tom Wolfe's Sherman McCoy, who carried the full weight of The Bonfire of the Vanities; by contrast to Veals, he was a vibrant, memorable character (and the author was able to explain where his money came from in a much more entertaining fashion) who - in spite of his ultimately fatal flaws - the reader felt involved with, and we cared about what happened to him.
The characters that take up the rest of the novel are somewhat better-realised (although it seems that some of them are introduced only to illustrate some aspect of the zeitgeist before being quickly discarded), but I found that the gap at its heart made the book feel like it was always falling apart instead of coming together.
42 of 46 people found the following review helpful
Format:Paperback
The idea behind "A Week in December" is similar to that of the Richard Curtis film of a few years back. We follow various of London's inhabitants in the week before Christmas and discover their interconnectedness. And, at the end, love is the answer - parental love, romantic love and love of money, status and power.
It's an ambitious idea but, as a whole, it didn't work for me. In the first few pages of the book, the reader is exposed to a "bullet -point" list of about 30 characters (rather like a particularly dreary Powerpoint presentation), many of whom play no significant part in the following four hundred-odd pages. This "data dump" is followed up by (to my mind) tedious lectures about high finance in unnecessary detail. The funniest sections of the book concerned the literary critic, but I felt there were far too many in-jokes about the literary establishment for this to be effective. The parts intended as satire - concerning the reality TV show and the online parallel universe game fell flat for me, partly because these already seemed dated - the parody is of "Second Life" rather than today's ubiquitous Facebook. Many of the characters seemed to merge into one stereotype - I had difficulty in particular with distinguishing most of the women from one another.
The character that I found of most interest was the would-be suicide bomber Hassan - his story of all, was well-told. His parents were also drawn with warmth and humour. There were one or two other minor characters who were of interest, or added a light touch - such as Roger - and I felt I would have liked to have seen more from these people's lives rather than yet more information on hedge funds.
Normally, I love books from Sebastian Faulks - and I even forgave the psychology lectures in "Human Traces" as the book was so powerful and full of humanity. Towards the end of "A Week in December", I found a passage which made me wonder - like other reviewers - if the whole thing is some kind of weird joke on Faulks' part:
"From now on, you can only write about the nineteenth century...no more stuff about today...but...anything from before you were born, that should be alright, shouldn't it?"
"I, er...I think you may be right. The truth is I can't bear contemporary stuff."
Reading "A Week in December" was, for me, rather like being on Jenni's Circle Line train. I was looking forward to a journey round the people and places of London but instead I was stuck in a claustrophobic carriage packed too full of people that ground to an unexplained halt in the middle of nowhere.
It's an ambitious idea but, as a whole, it didn't work for me. In the first few pages of the book, the reader is exposed to a "bullet -point" list of about 30 characters (rather like a particularly dreary Powerpoint presentation), many of whom play no significant part in the following four hundred-odd pages. This "data dump" is followed up by (to my mind) tedious lectures about high finance in unnecessary detail. The funniest sections of the book concerned the literary critic, but I felt there were far too many in-jokes about the literary establishment for this to be effective. The parts intended as satire - concerning the reality TV show and the online parallel universe game fell flat for me, partly because these already seemed dated - the parody is of "Second Life" rather than today's ubiquitous Facebook. Many of the characters seemed to merge into one stereotype - I had difficulty in particular with distinguishing most of the women from one another.
The character that I found of most interest was the would-be suicide bomber Hassan - his story of all, was well-told. His parents were also drawn with warmth and humour. There were one or two other minor characters who were of interest, or added a light touch - such as Roger - and I felt I would have liked to have seen more from these people's lives rather than yet more information on hedge funds.
Normally, I love books from Sebastian Faulks - and I even forgave the psychology lectures in "Human Traces" as the book was so powerful and full of humanity. Towards the end of "A Week in December", I found a passage which made me wonder - like other reviewers - if the whole thing is some kind of weird joke on Faulks' part:
"From now on, you can only write about the nineteenth century...no more stuff about today...but...anything from before you were born, that should be alright, shouldn't it?"
"I, er...I think you may be right. The truth is I can't bear contemporary stuff."
Reading "A Week in December" was, for me, rather like being on Jenni's Circle Line train. I was looking forward to a journey round the people and places of London but instead I was stuck in a claustrophobic carriage packed too full of people that ground to an unexplained halt in the middle of nowhere.
29 of 33 people found the following review helpful
Format:Hardcover
RT, being a completely poisonous book reviewer in the story who hates everything written in the last 50 years, would hate it. I have some sympathy. The opening chapters made me feel that Faulks, in some type of existential crisis, had been going to Andy Mcnab's creative writing class - jumping from scene to scene, clearly intended to weave a tense, none-too-complex tale with one-dimensional characters and an explosive conclusion. I almost chucked it in the bin, but I met RT just in time and was hooked until just before the end, where Faulks's sentimental tears dampen the fuses to all the potential blasts. In the end I guess we have to be satisfied with the novel idea that love redeems.
I'd guess Faulks knows people like a lot of the characters (if so, at least as far the Holland Park set are concerned, he has my sympathy). However, oddly, the most interesting person in the book for me was Hass, the terrorist, the one of whose type Faulks likely has least direct knowledge. I felt the examination of Hass's character, motives and experience of Islamic extremism was convincing and worthwhile.
I'd guess Faulks knows people like a lot of the characters (if so, at least as far the Holland Park set are concerned, he has my sympathy). However, oddly, the most interesting person in the book for me was Hass, the terrorist, the one of whose type Faulks likely has least direct knowledge. I felt the examination of Hass's character, motives and experience of Islamic extremism was convincing and worthwhile.
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Most Recent Customer Reviews
One of the best books I have ever read
I have never written a review ever of anything. However, having read everything Sebastian Faulks has written, I thought this was probably one of his best. Read more
Published 6 days ago by Ms E Logan
Poignant and compelling
I found this a gripping read though the ending didn't quite pay off the sense of urgency generated by the opening section. That said, I am keen to read more of his work.
Published 1 month ago by christuart
CHRISTMAS WEEK
Not the best book written by Sebastian. Too much about the Banker. Did have other interesting aspects. Read more
Published 1 month ago by Charlie Hinde
Very good read
A Week In December is a very easy and enjoyable read. The many characters are drawn skillfully by the writer and the sense of anticipation builds throughout. Read more
Published 1 month ago by Mrs. A. Gilbert
A week in December
This is a brilliant novel, the product was in good condition and arrived promptly. Although it didn't have the gloss of the new, the drop in price admirably made up for that and... Read more
Published 1 month ago by Nell
Disappointing
This is the first Sebastian Faulks book I have read - and I suspect it will be his last. It is intended as a satire of contemporary life in Britain, and has a promising approach... Read more
Published 1 month ago by Khan
A damp squib
Although the book is an easy and enjoyable enough read, it contained too much tedious, highly specialised detail for my taste. Read more
Published 2 months ago by J. Baldwin
Dissappointing
I was surprisingly sad to finish A Week in December in that for most of the book I didn't actually enjoy it that much. Read more
Published 2 months ago by Lucybird
State Of The Nation, Actually . . . .
Richard Curtis in a curly wig and false beard would look a lot like Sebastian Faulks, I think. Anyway - I couldn't get Mr Curtis out of my head whilst reading this, because it... Read more
Published 2 months ago by Roger Risborough
Oh, please, Sebastian!
Oh, Sebastian Faulks, what have you done? From the sublime Birdsong, to the ridiculous - A Week in December? Birdsong would probably be on my desert island book list. Read more
Published 3 months ago by KDGR
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