I just read 'Twelve' by Nick McDonnell, which he wrote when he was 17 - an east coast 'Less Than Zero' set in NYC around the turn of the millennium. I picked it up second hand because I was intrigued at all the plaudits for a writer who'd completely passed me by, despite me living in the US at the time and (at least so I thought) paying attention to new literary releases. His wikipedia entry mentions all the family's literary connections, implying that someone so young would not have been published otherwise - that's probably true, but it's still a really accomplished piece of writing for a teenager. I'd have guessed it was written by a jaded sceptic in his 30s. You could see where the book was going, but the portrait of hedonistic, super-spoilt, super-rich Manhattan brats is very well done.
Now reading another writer I'd never heard of but feel I should have - William Cooper, 'Scenes From Provincial Life'. He has that slightly inflated style that seemed to characterise certain writers of the pre- and post-WW2 era, like Waugh. Where you think, "Bloody hell, this bloke can write a sentence, again and again." Where all the characters are described physically and mentally, but you're still not sure what to expect of them. So far, I'm loving it.
Now reading another writer I'd never heard of but feel I should have - William Cooper, 'Scenes From Provincial Life'. He has that slightly inflated style that seemed to characterise certain writers of the pre- and post-WW2 era, like Waugh. Where you think, "Bloody hell, this bloke can write a sentence, again and again." Where all the characters are described physically and mentally, but you're still not sure what to expect of them. So far, I'm loving it.
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