by Martin Amis
Hm. I think I just may not be cut out for traditional literary fiction, even when there seems to be a ripping good story attached. While there was a very distinctive narrative voice and a lot of the ideological rambling is very much in support of defining who that character is, after a certain point...
I have no doubt that Martin Amis is an exceptional writer; I can surely see skill when I see it, the man writes beautifully and hence the two stars. This book just didn't do it for me. Not because of the style it was written in, clearly, skill is there, but it was more the story itself that bothered...
In-depth read of a Russian killer and his (lack of) emotional journey of life as a prisoner, looking back as an old man, in letters to his stepdaughter.
What a relief that Amis's next novel after the disastrous Yellow Dog was quite good. Not, I thought, as good as the ones from the 80s and 90s, but absolutely nothing to be ashamed of either. The image referred to by the title is very powerful, also the horrible rape scene near the end.
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