Novelist, essayist and literary critic, Martin Amis has been a major voice in Anglo-American literature for more than five decades. Born in 1949, the son of British author Kingsley Amis, Martin Amis wrote for and edited The Times Literary Supplement and New Statesman before publishing his first novel The Rachel Papers in 1973. Money, subtitled ‘A Suicide Note’, is Amis’ fifth and best known. It is a savage satire of the excesses and exploitation of the 1980s, and how money seduces, corrupts and destroys.
MAKING MONEY
A tale of opportunity, betrayal, drink, drugs, pornography, sex and movies, reputedly influenced by Amis’s own experience as a screenwriter working with iconic actor Kirk Douglas, the protagonist is a degenerate thirty-five-year-old called John Self. Fresh from his success directing X-rated commercials, Self is set to make his first film and arrives in New York to meet the producer Fielding Goodney:
“He’s the reason I’m here. I’m the reason he’s here too. We’re going to make lots of money together. Making lots of money – it’s not that hard, you know. It’s overestimated. Making lots of money is a breeze. You watch.”
“È la ragione per cui mi trovo qui. Del resto è reciproco: lui è qui per me. Insieme faremo un mucchio di soldi. Fare un mucchio di soldi non è poi così difficile, sai. La gente se ne è fatta un'idea sbagliata, eccessiva. Fare un mucchio di soldi è una stupidaggine. Sta' a vedere.”
UNCOMFORTABLE
The novel sets Self on a journey of self-discovery and self-destruction. Bigoted, foul-mouthed, racist and misogynistic, Self’s rape jokes alone are enough to make most readers uncomfortable. However, like many money men of the 1980s, he remains unapologetic:
“You know, I’ve been told that I don’t like women. I do like women. I think chicks are cool. I’ve been told that men don’t like women, period. Oh yeah? Who does, then? Because women don’t like women.”
“Sai, mi sono detto che non mi piacciono le donne. Ma certo che mi piacciono. Le ragazze sono fantastiche. Ho sentito dire che agli uomini in genere non piacciono le donne, punto e basta. Ah sí? E a chi piacciono allora? Perché neanche alle donne le donne piacciono.”
MEET MARTIN AMIS
As a narrator, Self is often hilarious, though as unreliable as his flashy but decrepit car the ‘Fiasco’. In a postmodern twist, Self meets the character (also a writer) Martin Amis. As Amis sits reading a book in a London pub, a drunken Self tries to start a conversation about writing:
“‘Hey,’ I said. ‘When you, do you sort of make it up, or is it just, you know, like what happens?’
‘Neither.’
‘Autobiographical,’ I said. ‘I haven’t read any of your books. There’s, I don’t really get that much time for reading.’
‘Fancy,’ he said. He started reading again.
‘Hey,’ I said. ‘Your dad, he’s a writer too, isn’t he? Bet that made it easier.’
‘Oh, sure. It’s just like taking over the family pub.’”
“– Ehi, – dissi. Quello che… insomma si inventa tutto oppure è solo, sa cosa intendo, quello che capita?
– Né l’uno né l’altro.
– Autobiografia, – dissi. – Non ho letto nessuno dei suoi libri. C’è… non mi avanza molto tempo per leggere.
– Ma pensa, – disse lui. Riprese a leggere.
– Ehi, – dissi. – Anche suo padre fa lo scrittore, giusto? Scommetto che ha reso tutto più facile.
– Be’, certo. Come rilevare un pub di famiglia.”
CHESS
Martin Amis described Money as “a novel of voice, not plot” but the largely aimless narrative arrives at a cleverly-concealed conclusion, with Self’s money, relationships, movie deal, his very identity all uncertain. As Self plays chess with Martin Amis for fast-doubling bets, it becomes clear that he has been outmaneuvered by the writer in more ways than one:
“We climbed to our feet, and stretched, facing each other over the square table. I offered him my hand and said,
‘A draw.’
‘No. I’m afraid you lose.’
‘Come on, there’s nothing doing.’ I gestured airily at the board. And saw that he was right. My only moves were king moves, and they were suicide. He could capture, and keep his own pawn in range.
‘Zugzwang,’ he said.
‘What the fuck does that mean?’
‘Literally, forced to move. It means that whoever has to move has to lose. If it were my turn now, you’d win. But it’s yours. And you lose.”
“Ci alzammo in piedi per sgranchirci le gambe e squadrarci dai lati opposti del tavolo. Gli tesi la mano e dissi:
– Siamo pari.
– No. Temo che tu abbia perso.
– Ma va. Non c’è niente da fare –. Indicai la scacchiera con un gesto disinvolto. E a quel punto capii che aveva ragione. Le sole mosse che mi restavano coinvolgevano il re, ed erano mosse suicide. Lui invece poteva mangiare e tenersi attivo il pedone.
– Zugzwang, – disse lui.
– Che cazzo sarebbe?
– Letteralmente vuol dire, “mossa forzata”. Significa che perde il giocatore a cui tocca la mossa successiva. Se toccasse a me, vinceresti tu. Ma tocca a te. E perdi.”
TRUE TEST
Money captures the zeitgeist on both sides of the Atlantic, with the Thatcher/Reagan push towards privatisation and deregulation. Amis himself has lived in both the UK and US, and caused a literary storm in 1995 when he switched from his British agent to the American Andrew Wylie, who secured him a massive advance of £500,000 for his novel The Information. Amis’s writing and opinions remain relevant today. He once said that the only true test of literature is whether it is still being read fifty years later. It’s a safe bet that Money will be read for many years to come.