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<text id=90TT0533>
<title>
Feb. 26, 1990: Caution:Black Hole Ahead
</title>
<history>
TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1990
Feb. 26, 1990 Predator's Fall
</history>
<article>
<source>Time Magazine</source>
<hdr>
BOOKS, Page 71
Caution: Black Hole Ahead
</hdr>
<body>
<p>By R.Z. Sheppard
</p>
<qt> <l>LONDON FIELDS</l>
<l>by Martin Amis</l>
<l>Harmony; 470 pages; $19.95</l>
</qt>
<p> Readers of Martin Amis' earlier fictions--notably Success,
Money: A Suicide Note, and Einstein's Monsters--will find that
he outdoes himself in London Fields. It could even be said he
sometimes undoes himself, with his verbal brilliance and command
of literary technique. No matter. As an uninhibited high-energy
performance, as a bold conception of a world tumbling toward a
loveless void, this British best seller is destined for a large
and divided readership in the U.S.
</p>
<p> Like Tom Wolfe's The Bonfire of the Vanities, London Fields
should excite the love-it-or-heave-it reflex. Those whose
sensibilities were tousled by Wolfe's rough treatment of New
York City will be put off by Amis' pitch-black satire about the
other sagging capital of the English-speaking world. But those
who found Bonfire's incendiary social commentary amusingly
accurate should spontaneously combust over Amis' latest export.
</p>
<p> First, however, there are a few complications to sort out.
On top of proving once again that he is one of the most gifted
novelists of his generation, Amis demonstrates that he is also
among the cleverest. He writes about a writer who is writing a
murder story about a crime that has not yet happened but is
being staged by the victim. The designation is used advisedly.
Nicola Six may get her head bashed in at the end of the book,
yet she remains a good candidate for the most willful and
neutering female ever devised by the pen of man.
</p>
<p> More to the point, Nicola is an elaborate composition of
male sexual fantasies and fears. In the days of traditional
humanist metaphors, she would have been likened to a siren or
destructive goddess. Fast-forwarding to the quantum age, Amis
associates Ms. Six with--yes, folks--a black hole.
</p>
<p> Like his father, novelist Kingsley Amis, the author courts
the charge of misogyny. Modified misanthropy would be closer to
the mark. Almost anything on two legs is fair game for the Amis
blitz. Keith Talent reads like a composite of every cheating,
pub-crawling lout that Amis has ever met, which is probably
quite a few. A typical Talent day includes waking with a
hangover, a round of serial adulteries and petty larcenies, then
hours of whetting his dart skills at the Black Cross. A typical
business transaction includes stealing a shipment of perfume
and, when finding out that it is mostly water, unloading the
stuff on a store owner who pays him with counterfeit bills.
Talent then uses the forgeries to buy vodka that turns out to
be the nonperfume he stole in the morning.
</p>
<p> Talent's foil, Guy Clinch, is a British Sherman McCoy, the
Wall Street fall guy of The Bonfire of the Vanities. "He had a
tremendous amount of money, excellent health, handsomeness,
height, a capriciously original mind; and he was lifeless,"
writes Amis of Clinch. Samson Young, the narrator and American
scribbler who thinks he is writing Amis' novel, represents
cultural lowlife. "A little media talk and Manhattan networking
soon schmoozed her into shape" is his oily take on subduing
Guy's wife Hope.
</p>
<p> Names are funny in London Fields: baby Marmaduke,
sister-in-law Lizzyboo and a housemaid known as Auxiliadora.
Hope, of course, is precisely what London Fields is not about.
Despite his dead-on dialogue and purgative humor, Amis has
righteous blood in his eye. Talent, Six and Clinch are signs of
our times, of "mass disorientation and anxiety," of "mortifying
squalor" and "impenetrable mendacity." Talent is monstrously
indifferent, Six (pronounced sex by the Black Cross regulars)
is devoid of passion, and Clinch has no grip on reality.
</p>
<p> In a prefatory note, Amis says he toyed with the idea of
calling his book The Murderee. The coinage describes the dark
lady of the novel, whose self-arranged annihilation strongly
suggests one of the author's recurrent themes: the nuclear and
toxic capacities of industrial nations to destroy life on earth.
"Hard to love, when you're bracing yourself for impact" is the
succinct way the narrator of London Fields puts this modern
predicament. But not hard to laugh when slouching toward the
millennium with Amis.
</p>
<p>AMIS AND ENVY
</p>
<p> "I like noisy books," says Martin Amis. His own are
considered explosive in England, where the traditional literary
tone is quieter and gentler. Not that the Brits lack for
satirists. Amis, 40, is in the line of Swift, Waugh and his own
father Kingsley. The American influences include symphonic
novelists like Saul Bellow. Amis read Tom Wolfe's The Bonfire
of the Vanities and found it "worryingly good." He judges Wolfe
the more efficient plotter, but, he adds, "I was quite relieved
that the book went off in the last quarter." Amis, who spent
five years on London Fields, plans to write a novel soon about
literary envy.
</p>
</body>
</article>
</text>