Customer Reviews

Money: A Suicide Note

5 star:		(30)
4 star:		(8)
3 star:		(4)
2 star:		(4)
1 star:		(10)

 

 

Amis gets a bad press, and you can see why. Why is a middle class novelist from London writing in this smart-ass cool American jargon? Why is he so clearly in love with this disposable cynical money grabbing pornographic transatlantic culture that this book is rubbishing? I started the book in this mode of thought, ready to hate it. But the language and the rhythm and the wit are so brilliant, and so energetic, that I was completely won over after 50 pages or so. This is a Hogarthian world of exploitation and indulgence. John Self tries to get on the gravy train but ends up being shafted himself.

The book is also very, very funny. The scenes when John explains to the young Hollywood brat pack movie actor Spunk Davis that it might be helpful for the British market if he changed his first name, and when a prostitute asks him if he is very excited at the impending Diana and Charles wedding had me laughing out loud.

I even forgive his having John meet a dull British novelist, one Martin Amis, in a café and signing him up as screenwriter.

Sure it is self consciously clever. But I would rather have the brilliance that is here than not at all. And it is good to read a serious book that is actually dealing directly with our times rather than some time in the past (like most of the contemporary novels I read).

I have mixed feelings about this book. Despite containing some moments of the wit and satire that Amis seems to be able to dash off so easily, it never feels like it totally justifies the price of admission.

Like the central character John Self, the prose feels bloated at 368 pages long. There's a kind of rhythm in the repetition of the constant acts of gluttony, depravity and violence of Self that I suppose you could argue form the basis of the satire. The problem I have with this is that if this book is intended as a satire, it doesn't feel like the aim is precise enough- it's more of a scattergun approach in which all of the targets receive a blast of Amis's caustic style.

What this leaves you with is a fairly stretched story full of unlikable characters (although I did enjoy John Self's dead pan reflections and utter lack of regret on events that would horrify most of us- being thrown out of bars, losing fights, throwing up in front of important people) interspersed with some genuinely funny moments.

It comes down to personal taste, as I know there are plenty of people who rate this book, but ultimately I found it comes off like an overlong speech by a very witty, though very drunk friend.

"I have measured out my life in coffee spoons" is a quotation from T.S Eliot. For me: substitute readings of this modern classic for spoons. I think that it was described as the best literary account of the 80s, and I would definitely agree. It is difficult to add to the eloquent appraisals of this book by other reviewers.
"Success" comes closest to it, in terms of comic perspective on class and society; and, re-reading the latter a few weeks ago, it seems obvious that it was the run-up to "Money." There is so much that makes me laugh, with repeated readings. The idiotic American who thinks that "Pericles: Prince Of Tyre" is about an automobile business is one that I always remember.
I don't think that Amis will ever write a novel (he can still pull it off with essays and short stories) as great as this.
At least two of his novels have been bungled as screen adaptations. "London Fields" is reportedly being worked on (promising, as Cronenburg is the director, and he created the atmosphere for "Spider" excellently), but his should not be attempted.
Like a comet, it will fly into my orbit for another re-reading within months or years.

Amis's punchy narrative, infused with colloquial wordplay and urban street talk, complements his hero's (the intriguingly named John Self) socially schizophrenic lifestyle. Self is launched into the money rich pseudo reality of the film industry bumping backwards and forwards between the pub based childhood memories of his London origins and a New York fantasy world of strip joints and intoxication. I found the author's style highly engaging, packed with comic material (fruit machine rage, junk food diets, Martin Amis) and themes of a dark cynical nature. I enjoyed the historical backdrop: allusions to the wedding of Prince Charles and Diana in contrast to news of serious rioting in London. The characters inhabiting both urban settings are hilarious, scheming, self-indulgent egotists and caricatures of attention seeking celebrity, society's misfits and money obsessed grifters. And how I laughed! I had to put the book down on several occasions due to passages such as the one describing Self's driving paranoia. This was the first Amis I had read and it took me a few pages to get on the right `wavelength' and enjoy the rhythm of Amis's literary style. For Self the status and prestige bought by money and the blinkered desire to have money are shown to be a destructive cycle of self inflicted physical and mental abuse, sexploitation and violence. I don't think Self is a nice person but his story is deeply funny.

"I bought this book after reading a review of Good Thing, which I recently purchased, also set in the 1980s, comparing the style of Martin Amis. I have not been disappointed.

Money is a story of decadence and excess, chronicling the demise of an Advertising executive turned Movie Director, who is commissioned to direct a high budget movie in the US. The anti-hero John Self is addicted to alcohol and pornography, and is as unpleasant a character as you are ever likely to meet, but it is impossible not to feel some sympathy for his plight as you witness his dreams crash and burn. It is also impossible not to laugh out loud at some of the unlikely predicaments.

The pace is fast and furious, like the transatlantic lifestyle of John Self, and at the end of the read I felt exhausted! "

Martin Amis has never written better than he did in Money. This is his masterpiece. It's a savagely funny piece of satire that works on countless levels. The author's grasp of language is so subtle and masterful that it makes other writers' gifts look very basic indeed. This novel is good enough to change the way you see the world, from the central role of money in our lives (it's even more relevant since the global recession), to what you call your car (John Self's is a Fiasco) or your haircut (a rug re-think). Amis doesn't just show off with his dazzling prose. Instead, he rips into the sham that is the US film industry and the human tendency to use wealth to insulate ourselves from feelings. He also makes us examine how fiction works (there's a character called 'Martin Amis') and - without giving away the plot - gets deep into what makes up our identity, and, on a wider level, the Human Condition.

It's a great piece of work: funny, sad, horrifying and incredibly illuminating.

This is a novel written in the early 80's and is one long monologue about money and what chasing money, having money( and not having money) does to John Self the central character. He is a successful Ad director but at heart a fast talking East end boozing womaniser addicted to fast food and porno. And if you still like him, he beats up women, tends to be a racist, and hates gays... and horror of horror smokes. But he does have a turbulent broth of family relationships to deal with!

This could be an echo of real life as Martin Amis had a troubled relationship with his father Kingsley Amis. Who incidentally was critical of the device of having the author as a character in the story which allows Martin to take some sly digs at the pretensions of writers and writing.

John Self meets a producer in New York and spins him a story based on his own life (drunkard father, two timing mother, time waster son) and is then embroiled in the nightmare of putting the money, script and casting together. He lurches between New York and London loving money and suffering from excesses of drink, food and sex and looses girlfriend, friends and family along the way in a glorious buffoon way.

As he tries to deal with actor's egos, money men demands and scripts he is also hounded by a stalker . Or is he? We can only understand what john understands and as he is drinking several bottles of whiskies on week long benders he is a little hazy some times on the details. During the story we get to find out what the truth of his rise to the Money as well as family secrets and who cheats who.

As the novel is set up to be a long suicide note you can sense the depths of his pain. So is this a gloomy, slash your wrist Leonard Cohen fun feast? No it's a very funny and savage satire on money, money and money and oh the film industry. Normally, I dislike first person novels but I strongly recommended this one.

For a novel written by someone of Amis' linguistic ability, and usually excellent grasp of dramatic action, 'Money' is a disappointingly frustrating and uncharacteristically flat novel. Following John Self, a wealthy, bloated figure with connections to filmmaking, Amis novel tries to tackle the spiral into selfishness, sexual obsession and immorality, which he sees characterised over the increasingly obscene landscape of 1980s London and New York. Whilst the darker side of the human condition is usually a strong point in Amis' novels, Self feels more like a tired caricature than anything else, and following him through the novel's 400 or so pages, is rarely a rewarding experience. Amis appears to have little to point out about the character besides his reckless consumerism, and fluctuation between rampant egotism and self-loathing; which he rarely even manages to do well in the novel. Similarly, in the devious Selina Street, Amis' attempts to reconfigure the idea of the femme fatale fall flat, and whilst the language zips by through fast food joints, strip clubs and sexual transgressions at a real pace, there's the frustrating feeling that nothing much is really happening; and even more pertinently, that there's not really anything to garner from reading the novel.

There are a few saving graces to the text. Martin Amis' inclusion of himself as a writer figure might initially seem both a tired postmodern cliche and rather egotistical, but Amis the character provides the most illuminating moments of the novel, in his discussions and dissections of human experience with John Self. Equally, Amis' language packs a characteristic punch, and can often appear dizzyingly impressive in his novels; but with no real backbone to 'Money' in narrative and ideological terms, this style comes across as distracting and unnecessary, as much as it is inspiring or powerful. On the whole, 'Money' is not a disaster, but it's a poor novel and a definite missed opportunity. For fans of Amis' work, there'll be enough here to probably make it a worthwhile purchase, but for others, I'd recommend leaving it be. There are glimpses of something impressive, but they're scattered sparsely amongst a frustrating and often tiresome work.

This book is, for want of a better phrase, very 'Martin Amis'; heck he even stars in it as a character. Having read reviews of Money I got the impression this was one of his best novels, however I would tend to disagree. It starts well and finishes well but I found myself really having to take a breath and force my hand away from starting another book during the middle chapters (of which I would say there were a few too many). If you are reading this as an English literary critic / student (which I am neither) you may have a different opinion, but for me it was too self indulgent in places to compete with some of his other titles.

The book tracks the life of essentially one man, John Self, and his travails and interactions with a few others. This is very much in keeping with the other Amis novels I've read. The struggles and failures of the main character for whom things will never go right. However, my gripe is that there is just not enough to keep me interested. It's just a little too - post modern.

I wouldn't say 'don't read this book' and perhaps my four star rating is not in keeping with what I have written. With Martin Amis I can't help it. The start and the end kept me turning pages at a more frantic pace and he does dress the book with dollops of literary genius; some of his sentences compel me to read them several times to truly appreciate them. It is well written and has a very real and gritty feel set off against the hilarious irrelevance and hopelessness you would expect.

In summary, a good read if you can last the distance. Some great use of language, but in places written for the author not the reader methinks. If the review reads as two separate reviews then that's because that's how I felt the book to be. Enough of the good to overcome the bad, but not his best.

To begin with I simply cannot believe that I appear to be the first human being to write a review here of Amis's brillant, razor sharpe, side-splitting, cynical, tragic Money. this is the first book that i have read by Amis and it certainly won't be the last. Alright so John Self is a bollocks, but i bet there isn't a person out there who doesn't agree with some of his arguments. Self is saying that at the end of the day we're all in it for the money. "If there's no money to be made, what's the point?". Okay, mabye we're not all as cynical, but he does have a point. A truely brillant book from start to finish, although having said that it's not for those who believe the human spirit is basically good. Read it now, not tomorrow, I envy you.