Geoff Dyer has the extraordinary ability to write about real people, doing what people actually do, and saying the kind of things people actually say in real life, all in a prose which is almost frightening in its beauty and intensity. He also manages to write about happiness convincingly, a happiness which is all the sharper and more keenly felt because we know, early on, that things will turn out unhappily for one of the male characters. The book has acknowledged echoes of Fitzgerald and Hemingway, but the picture of Paris it paints is far more realistic than either (I live there) and shows the city, and its inhabitants, pretty much as they are in real life. Either Dyer has an adviser on colloquial Parisian speech, or he's totally fluent - the French really do speak like that. A beautiful, sad, happy novel that everyone should read but very few could write.