Just finished this book and am about to go on to his fourth piece of fiction (also the 4th book I'll be seduced by by him) 'Intimacy'. Will tell you how that goes.
"It was clear that Eleanor had been to bed with a large and random collection of people, but when I suggested she go to bed with me, she said, "I don't think we should, just at the moment, do you?" As a man I found this pretty fucking insulting. There were constant friendly caresses, and when things got too much (every few hours) she held me and cried, but the big caress was out."
"I'd had a haircut at Sassoon in Sloane Street and my balls, recently talcum-powedered, were as fragrantly dusted and tasty as Turkish Delight."
"She looked at me as if she wanted to press a hard grain of rice down my penis."
"As Anwar smacked downwards with his stick, Changez lumbered to one side, just in time, withdrew the knobbly dildo from its paperbag sheath, and with a Muslim Warrior shout - at least, Shinko said it was a Muslim shout, but what would she know? - whacked my uncle smartly over the head with it. Uncle Anwar, who'd come from Indian to the Old Kent Road to lodge with a dentist, to jangle and gamble, to make his fortune and return home to build a house like my grandfather's on Juhu Beach, could never have guessed all those years ago that late in life he would be knocked unconscious by a sex-aid. No fortune-teller had predicted this. Kipling had written 'to each his own fear', but this was not Anwar's."
"I ran towards Heater and mounted him by stepping on his knee, grabbing him by the lapels and using velocity to bounce my forehead against his nose in the way I'd been taught at school. Thank God for education. He wheeled away, holding his nose onto his face. Then Hilary and I were running and shouting; we were holding each other and kissing, and it seemed that blood was everywhere; it was just pouring off us. I'd forgotten that Heater had learned at school never to go anywhere without razor-blades sewn into the back of his lapels".
PLUS THERE'S A TV MINI-SERIES! AHHHHH DID. NOT. KNOW. THAT.
"I'd had a haircut at Sassoon in Sloane Street and my balls, recently talcum-powedered, were as fragrantly dusted and tasty as Turkish Delight."
"She looked at me as if she wanted to press a hard grain of rice down my penis."
"As Anwar smacked downwards with his stick, Changez lumbered to one side, just in time, withdrew the knobbly dildo from its paperbag sheath, and with a Muslim Warrior shout - at least, Shinko said it was a Muslim shout, but what would she know? - whacked my uncle smartly over the head with it. Uncle Anwar, who'd come from Indian to the Old Kent Road to lodge with a dentist, to jangle and gamble, to make his fortune and return home to build a house like my grandfather's on Juhu Beach, could never have guessed all those years ago that late in life he would be knocked unconscious by a sex-aid. No fortune-teller had predicted this. Kipling had written 'to each his own fear', but this was not Anwar's."
"I ran towards Heater and mounted him by stepping on his knee, grabbing him by the lapels and using velocity to bounce my forehead against his nose in the way I'd been taught at school. Thank God for education. He wheeled away, holding his nose onto his face. Then Hilary and I were running and shouting; we were holding each other and kissing, and it seemed that blood was everywhere; it was just pouring off us. I'd forgotten that Heater had learned at school never to go anywhere without razor-blades sewn into the back of his lapels".
PLUS THERE'S A TV MINI-SERIES! AHHHHH DID. NOT. KNOW. THAT.
Anyone recognize the main star? Naveen Andrews from Lost. He looks just like my friend Syam. Can't get over it.
AND DAVID BOWIE DID A TRACK FOR IT! (I quite like it...Song of the Week maybe?)
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