Read Money by Martin Amis Bert Krak Online


One of Time’s 100 best novels in the English language—by the acclaimed author of Lionel Asbo: State of England and London FieldsPart of Martin Amis’s “London Trilogy,” along with the novel London Fields and The Information, Money was hailed as "a sprawling, fierce, vulgar display" (The New Republic) and "exhilarating, skillful, savvy" (The Times Literary Supplement) when iOne of Time’s 100 best novels in the English language—by the acclaimed author of Lionel Asbo: State of England and London FieldsPart of Martin Amis’s “London Trilogy,” along with the novel London Fields and The Information, Money was hailed as "a sprawling, fierce, vulgar display" (The New Republic) and "exhilarating, skillful, savvy" (The Times Literary Supplement) when it made its first appearance in the mid-1980s. Amis’s shocking, funny, and on-target portraits of life in the fast lane form a bold and frightening portrait of Ronald Reagan’s America and Margaret Thatcher’s England.             Money is the hilarious story of John Self, one of London’s top commercial directors, who is given the opportunity to make his first feature film—alternately titled Good Money and Bad Money. He is also living money, talking money, and spending money in his relentless pursuit of pleasure and success. As he attempts to navigate his hedonistic world of drinking, sex, drugs, and excessive quantities of fast food, Self is sucked into a wretched spiral of degeneracy that is increasingly difficult to surface from....

Title : Money
Author :
Rating :
ISBN : 9780143116950
Format Type : Paperback
Number of Pages : 363 Pages
Status : Available For Download
Last checked : 21 Minutes ago!

Money Reviews

  • Rakhi Dalal
    2019-03-07 21:58

    Yes, you are right. Money is about ‘Money’. But not the everyday money one needs to go on with the daily business of living. It is ‘The Money’. The sort people go bonkers to attain to overcome their fears. To suppress the ‘thinking monster’ who is ready to rear its head at a moment’s notice, when the guards are low, those fleeting moments when lust or power hang on to relax, freeing the mind from their rein temporarily. But that freedom is ephemeral, for there is no escape from Money. John Self is a rogue. One, who is impatient to make money, more and more money in life to spend in excess. One who remains drunk all day long. Night too. For days at stretch. Indulges in sex. Want to make porn movies. To make more money. You get the picture, right? And what with the abysmal language Amis writes this work in? What can one expect to find? Why should it be rated five stars?Well, why shouldn’t it be? This isn’t a work to be disregarded. The writing may be despicable, the characters detestable, but it unveils the ugliness of a society doomed in the mire of lust and money. To render the effect of Money, when it becomes the only driving force of an individual or a society, how it blinds the senses, influences the mind and compels to stifle the conscience, seems the chief concern of the writer. And what better way to illustrate that other than writing it in an appalling language; making the ugliness still more evident. But the work isn’t only that. It is a struggle; a longing to find a meaning, a restlessness to make sense of the living amidst the chaos, while understanding too well that there is no solution to being born. Despair abounds.Morning came, and I got up ... That doesn't sound particularly interesting or difficult, now does it? I bet you do it all the time. Listen, though — I had a problem here. For instance, I was lying face-down under a hedge or bush or some blighted shrub in a soaked allotment full of nettles, crushed cigarette packs, used condoms and empty beercans. It was quite an appropriate place for me to be born again, which is what it felt like. Obviously it hurts, being born: that's why you scream and weep. John Self is deplorable, but he tries hard to think. But the hard he tries to think, the harder he tries to suppress it; getting drunk and fornicating. Number four is the real intruder. I don't want any of these voices but I especially don't want this one. It is the most recent. It has to do with quitting work and needing to think about things I never used to think about. It has the unwelcome lilt of paranoia, of rage and weepiness made articulate in spasms of vividness; drunk talk played back sober.He suppress it because he doesn’t know what to do with the thinking, how to answer the question when they keep popping. Frank, on the phone, the one who stalks him, seems to be his doppelganger, trying to make John think. Perhaps he is made up by John, so that he can still hear his own voice although trying hard to smother it. Martina too makes him think, although she makes him panicky.The thing about Martina is — the thing about Martina is that I can't find a voice to summon her with. The voices of money, weather and pornography (all that uncontrollable stuff), they just aren't up to the job when it comes to Martina. I think of her and there is speechless upheaval in me — I feel this way when I'm in Zurich, Frankfurt or Paris and the locals can't speak the lingo. My tongue moves in search of patterns and grids that simply are not there. Then I shout ...He tries reading books in order to be able to talk to Martina. Though he isn’t very smart, but he knows he is missing something in life which can be grasped by reading books. The bookish, the contemplative life. Martina, she's even cured my tinnitus. Not a squeak for over three hours. The big thing about reading and all that is—you have to be in a fit state for it. Calm. Not picked on. You have to be able to hear your own thoughts, without interference.But there is no escape from Money, its claws fastening more as one tries to escape. John cannot help it. He cannot hide from Money. And it is his greed, his inability to take control which brings his doom. When he sits there defeated, a part of me can sympathize with him, for the ruin he is faced with, is brought about by a being a part of the society where money is supreme and where ‘thinking’ spirals downwards as debauchery, greed and lust rise to unleash their power.This book is a masterpiece. Highly recommended.

  • Jessica
    2019-03-03 18:58

    I loathed this book, especially its reekingly horrid, brain-damagingly idiotic mess of an ending, which felt like watching a drug-addicted alcoholic trainwreck you've seen self-destructing for years finally have his royal rock-bottom meltdown into utter psychosis, destitution, and multiple organ failure."But Jess!" you might be yelling. "Wasn't that the point?"Probably, almost definitely, but really, I gotta ask: was this point really one that needed to be made? I think not, yet close to a year after I read it, Money is still ruthlessly imprinted on my brain. I mean, there are passages and scenes in here that I remember more clearly than I do my own actions at work this morning. So it couldn't have been all bad -- no, it was bad, it was worse, but it was memorably so.Plus there's this paragraph in here* that still makes me laugh out loud when I think about it, which I do probably at least every three weeks.So upon further reflection, I am upping it a star to two, not because "it was ok," but because it so totally wasn't. I hated reading this book, and when I think about having read it, I kind of want to throw up. And that's something, isn't it? That must count for something. Oh, Martin Amis. You sick idiot savant fucking bastard.* Full disclosure: a paragraph about grannies being raped.

  • MJ Nicholls
    2019-02-26 20:05

    Note: Written in 2007, when my prose style was at an all-time low.I would like to begin this review with a statement: I am not a rich man. The highest amount of capital I have ever accrued amounts to approximately two thousand British pounds, and after reading Money: A Suicide Note from Martin Amis, I can also state in all conviction – that will do quite nicely for me. I picked this book up expecting a white-hot satire on the power of money to corrupt and infect the individual, and to rot society from the inside out. I also, perhaps, on some level, needed some reassurance that money truly is the root of all evil, that the wealthy people of the world are the most vacuous and corrupted of all and that there is little enlightenment and personal enrichment to be found in the realm of the filthy lucre. So – did I come away reassured? Did I leave this voluminous text (and it is a voluminous text) with the kind of comfort I required, or did it change my perception on the topic entirely? The answer is that this novel left me utterly breathless – in both a positive and negative sense. The Lowdown Money: A Suicide Note is a book about extreme excess. It is therefore written under this proviso from the first moment we are introduced to the loutish, amoral protagonist John Self. The voice of the narrator is rather like that of a brutish cockney millionaire high on cocaine, talking noisily about how brilliant he is in a lift to a group of embarrassed, discerning onlookers. Amis’ creation is the image not, it seems, of the archetypal Thatcherite yuppie, but more of an unhinged, self-made businessman who leads a life of exploitation and epileptic unrest; constantly on the look out for the next addiction he can get his greedy hands on. Released in 1984, this book must have struck a chord with those sickened by the “greed is good” ethos of the 1980s and made all those in pursuit of the mega dollars look rather degenerate. John Self is a repugnant individual, it is true – misogynistic, foul-mouthed, coarse and self-destructive – but is imbued with an extreme intelligence and insightfulness (perhaps merely to accommodate the sheer density and crackling eloquence of Amis’ prose). We get the genuine sense throughout the novel that this is a character who is shallow and unthinking, but in whom lurks a genuine intelligence and an almost insatiable need for some kind of spiritual fulfilment. He is, to me, like some walking brain, split wide open and just hanging there; receptive to almost every kind of stimulus he encounters. It is in his world of jet-set and sleaze we are trapped in for all 400 pages of this text, and despite this full absorption into his world, he appears desolate and almost impenetrable from the outside. Style & Plot Excess is adopted throughout each stylistic nuance of this book. The length of the sentences are just a little too long, as are the ensuing paragraphs, in order to give the effect of leaving the reader feeling dazed and bloated. If John Self has just gorged on a whole plateful of burgers, the reader feels that sensation as well. This does not make for the easiest reading style, but it does manage to evoke the feeling of the sheer lack of restraint the character has. When one word would do, Amis uses about three or four, stretching his descriptive capabilities to near breaking point. He also works in more surreal, literary imagery into the text, most of which gets swamped in the sheer ocean of adjectives. The narrator more or less rambles for all 400 pages, and there is no real structure or point to many of the events – we merely wade through the wasteland of his indulgent and decadent life, then build to the moment of his (almost) suicide. The narrator works in the pornographic film industry and the events in the book detail his abusive relationships with actresses, his contemptuous colleagues and with his manifold addictions. These parts of the book can be difficult to swallow, since they engendered in me more anger than humour, but there are some (guilty) laughs to be had in the astonishing wordplay that Amis is able to spindle throughout most of the novel. His ability as one of the best contemporary British authors is never in doubt throughout this text. What is perhaps the most interesting element of the book, for me, is the postmodern twist he has thrown into his work; in this instance including himself as a character in the novel. The intellectual bankruptcy of John Self is revealed when a somewhat sympathetic (and part-human) friend called Martina gets him into reading books. Amis is characterised as a mild-mannered, cantankerous bookworm (which is not entirely inaccurate) and sketches himself well into his own work. Upon an encounter with Amis in some random London pub, Self decides (with encouragement from Martina) that he should immerse himself in books to attain a higher level of knowledge and begins by tackling George Orwell. It would seem at this point that the bookworm voice of Amis is breaking through the narrative here, and he lectures a little through his character that there is a kind of currency – intellectual currency – money just cannot afford. The text then does that neat tactic of referencing itself later on, as some “text within a text” cleverness I learned about (after three years of English Lit, I remembered something) is introduced, and Self becomes a scriptwriter, working on a film titled Bad Money (later shortened to Money). The honest way in which Amis earns his money (via his writing) is juxtaposed to the repugnant way Self earns his, via sleaze and debasement. Lots to think about. But not just now. Further Thoughts Money: A Suicide Note manages to end on something of a poignant note, with the final chapter making startling use of italics over the last monologue as Self, after his near-death experience, sits alone an absolutely shattered individual. Instead of being a mere figure of fun, whose flashy dialogue and brutal cynicism make him out to be a clueless buffoon, he is exposed as a vulnerable, child-like man and is suitably crushed to a pulp by Amis for all his heartlessness. Since Self has spent the text running around like an overexcited child in a candy shop, perhaps this climax is inevitable. It still manages to make for an effective end to the novel, even if the overall message of the text ends up rather dimmed given the density of it all. Or perhaps I was too stupid. Which is more likely. What is to be taken from this text? As a discourse on the detrimental effects of having too much money, it raises some convincing and crucial arguments. Those who come from poorer backgrounds and who seek nothing but cold, hard cash from an early age, are shown as people with something pointless to prove to themselves who are taking the wrong path in life. It also hectors – quite clearly – that when a person has an unlimited amount of money, it can end up corrupting the person and robbing them of their humanity. Just think of all those benevolent multi-millionaires out there. What ones? My point exactly. Since all I sought from this novel was a barbed black comedy and a first-rate, scathing social commentary, I came away one pleased consumer. I do believe that Amis could have trimmed some sections of the text (it is voluminous, remember) but that would seem to contradict the OTT nature of the whole thing. Silly me! It can also be difficult to invest bags of reading time (approx. 10 hrs) in such an irredeemable protagonist who is doomed from page one, and care about anything he is doing seeing who most people would avoid this man with all the effort they could muster. However, something I should have mentioned in the beginning – this is a comedic work, and it did make me laugh in some places. I am not the type to be reduced to hysterical laughter with satirical novels, but this one at least raised some guilty chuckles and set my grey matter reeling afterwards. Why did I laugh at that? What does that say about me? Am I an absolute bastard? And so on. Conclusion This novel deserves to be included with the finest satires on shallow greed ever published. It does the job nicely, namely exposing the power of money to deaden the individual, and it approaches the issue from a classically British perspective. Which I find pleasing (being British). Perhaps American novels along the lines of Bonfire of the Vanities, or even to a certain extent the ice-cold humour of American Psycho are fine points of comparison to make. Since they are the only two I can think of just now. This novel is recommended to those who require a reminder of the evils of money, who just enjoy seeing the idiots rich exposed as sheer, unenlightened morons and who delight in a wordy, erudite satire that delivers a nice scissor-kick to the groins of those who deserve it. A worthwhile endeavour.

  • Mykle
    2019-03-07 23:03

    UPDATE: Did I really not give this five stars? What the fuck was I thinking? I rate all other books on Goodreads in terms of as-good-as-MONEY, not-as-good-as-MONEY, and possibly-better-than-MONEY-in-some-ways-but-then-again-not-really.I don't know what book I thought I was going to find out there, that was going to be an entire star better than Martin Amis' MONEY, but I haven't found it yet.(If I ever do encounter such a mindbusting blockbender of a book -- I hear "Twilight" is good -- then I may be forced to come back here and revise Martin Amis' MONEY back down to four measley stars, in order to give that new one five, since it's important that all books in my library someday be shelved linearly from "best" to "worst" so I can prioritize which ones to heat my house with. But that occurrence seems unlikely. For now: five stars. Consider my previous rating "pilot error.")As an aside, tho, if any Goodreads Developers happen to be reading this: they should consider developing and releasing into the wild another star, a discretionary sixth star -- specifically, the power to harness such a star (in extraordinary situations only) for the purpose of reviewing those rare few books that are just thermonuclearly great. But this power should be granted only to certain users: only those users who have demonstrated consistently exceptional dedication, taste, subtlety, restraint and eloquence in their Goodreadsing. Myself, for example. Possibly others, too. But I would be willing to beta test this new star. Here is why:Stars are excellent motivators. They are shiny, pointy, universally recognized as commemorative of achievement. Many Americans were trained at an early age to produce well-written text, or at least the correct answers to multiple-choice questions, in exchange for shiny adhesive decorative gorgeous gold stars. Did I mention shiny? certain individuals (hi!) are inordinately hypnotized by them, especially when wasted after a nice night rocking out, and I would like six of them to play with, please. This new sixth star -- the initial sighting of which, like a tenth planet or a third leg, will send shockwaves of startled awe though the Goodreadsphere, and perhaps mark the dawning of a "new era" in Goodreads "history" -- ought really, I think, to be markedly different, better in every way, than the current barely-adequate "starter quintuplet" of self-similar, mildly drop-shadowed, vaguely Carl's-Juniory stars. The sixth star should be larger, with more bling. It should blink, or rotate, or respond to clicks in a trendy Web 2.0 fashion. Perhaps this new sixth star should be six-pointed, in order to symbolize the number six, as well as maybe Jewishness in some way. For instance: I could use this sixth start to review Joshua Cohen's Witz, if by chance I read that book and it turns out to be significantly better than Martin Amis' MONEY. That would be a great day for several different symbolic systems, if that were to happen -- although perhaps a melancholy one for Martin Amis. (But, BTW, if there are cultural sensitivity issues that might arise from Goodreads handing its first six-pointed star to a gentile (hi!) then I would totally understand, and a seven-pointed star would be totally acceptable instead, assuming it was sufficiently awesome.)

  • Kemper
    2019-03-08 21:23

    How about a story where the narrator is an absolute pig who spends most of the novel blind drunk as he careens from blackout to blackout while being a completely self-absorbed and oblivious asshole who survives on a diet of fast food and pornography? He’s also the kind of guy who gets in bar brawls and occasionally smacks women around. Sound like fun?Actually, it is. John Self is a British director of crass TV commercials who is about to make his first movie with an American producer. John ping-pongs between New York and London as he deals with incredibly difficult actors and an increasingly demanding girl friend. Along the way, he also meets a writer named Martin Amis, and he’s hounded by threatening phone calls from someone who claims that John ruined his life. All the while he spends vast amounts of money to support his lifestyle and buy his way out of trouble.Alcoholic John is completely clueless as to what a massive asshat he is and can’t understand anyone not motivated by greed. He’s just smart enough to realize that money is the only thing that allows him to act the way he does and to feel vaguely disgruntled with his life, but he’s so committed to constant instant gratification that he can’t imagine living any other way. He’s Hunter S. Thompson without the intelligence and rage. He’s Charlie Sheen without the tiger blood and a webcast. He’s that drunken fucktard you hope doesn’t sit next to you on the plane, but if he does, you’ll have stories to tell your friends for hours.The reckless adventures that John has frequently end in humiliation for him, although he’s not always smart or sober enough to understand that he should be embarrassed. Amis does a magnificent job of making his points through John’s musings without beating the reader over the head with them. My only complaint is that there were points that seemed to get a bit repetitive with multiple blackouts and humiliations that John suffers.If you can’t stand books with unlikable characters in the lead, then stay away from this. If you’ve got the stomach to hear out a booze soaked moron in order to get a blisteringly funny take on a culture that worships money, then check this book out.

  • Ian
    2019-02-20 21:23

    Thank You, Dear Gentle ReaderIt's 5 pm on a Saturday in New York. The Reader walks into a bar where he works as a barman. In his bag is a copy of the novel "Money", which he has been reading on the subway on the journey to and from work. He hasn't checked the pages, but he's almost finished. Soon after setting up, he is joined by his first customer, a dishevelled, but interesting looking, character he doesn't think he's seen before. The customer is holding a folded piece of paper in his left hand. He slips on the newly disinfected floor and almost knocks a seat over while trying to take a position in front of the Reader at the bar. He gets up off the wet floor, rubbing his left elbow. It's giving him some pain. His eyes are bloodshot, but he doesn't look obviously drunk. He orders a beer and finally sits down. He is still holding the piece of paper. The Reader recognises his English accent and initiates a conversation.Reader: Are you OK?John Self: I’m not sure.Reader: Can I do something to help?John Self: I don’t know.Reader: Do you need anything at all?John Self: Yes.Reader: What?John Self: Some more money.Reader: Haha. We could all do with some more money.John Self: I know, but it’s not for me.Reader: Who’s it for then?John Self: My author.Reader: What do you mean, your author?John Self: Martin Amis. Reader: I know him. He's famous.John Self: Yes.Reader: Doesn't he have enough money? Isn’t he already rich?John Self: No.Reader: Wow, weird…so he depends on you for money then?John Self: Yes. He depends on me for money, and I depend on him...for dear life, actually.Reader: So what happens if you don’t make him enough money?John Self: I’ll probably die.Reader: But you’re alive. I can see you. We’re talking to each other. Here in this thread. In this bar. You're drinking a beer.John Self: Yes, but it could all come to an end.Reader: Why?John Self: He could hand me a suicide note.Reader: Is that the note you’ve got there?John Self: I’m not game enough to look.Reader: Where did you get it from?John Self: Martin gave it to me.Reader: Do you think he wanted you to read it?John Self: Yes.Reader: Well, why don’t you read it then?John Self: It’s not the end of the novel yet.Reader: How far away is it?John Self: I think it must be very close. If I read the note, it will be the end of the novel.Reader: What’s wrong with that?John Self: It’ll be the end of me as well.Reader: Oh, right. Is there any way we could make it last longer?John Self: Yes.Reader: How?John Self: You could give Martin some money.Reader: I don’t have any more money.John Self: I can’t be much of a character then.Reader: Hey, you’re a real character. As real as they get.John Self: Thanks. You’re very kind. A real gentleman.Reader: What are you doing?John Self: I’m going to read the note.

  • William1
    2019-02-20 01:20

    This was really an essential text for me. I first read it shortly after it came out in the U.S. (1985) and it was like nothing I had ever come across before. A hydrogen-bomb of a novel. The sheer speed of the narrative, the word play, the telling detail. In short Money possessed the masterful technique that causes a narrative to jump from the page. Though "originality" we now know is something of a misnomer--every artist has his or her models and Amis has always been quite frank about his--nevertheless I have found no one who quite equals MA. He is unique. He makes it new, as the problematic Ezra Pound is famous for saying.

  • Anthony Vacca
    2019-03-12 23:22

    A sleazy masterpiece of rhythm and voice, Money is Martin Amis at his most decadent and vitriolic. Taking no prisoners, this novel moves at a jetlagged frenzy, hopping back and forth between London and New York City as our narrator, the bloated and repulsive John Self, wheels and deals with perverse moneymen and insecure actors as he tries his damnedest to make his pet project of a movie, Good Money (or Bad Money, depending on which has more appeal with test audiences), a money-spewing success. All that stands in his way is his wayward sneak of a girlfriend, a malicious stalker, a deadbeat father, and his insatiable appetites for food, booze, and drugs. For the most part, Self is an oafish, sexist, slovenly, repulsive, sex-crazed, greedy, mean-spirited drunk, but Amis gifts his creation with enough intelligence and a dim sense of self-awareness to generate some genuine sympathy for the bastard as he goes through a 360-page gauntlet of humiliation. Dumping the burden of blame on the celebration of self-absorption that was the greedy, plastic-sheened 1980s, Amis rolls up his sleeves and goes digging in the cultural refuse clogging up the kitchen sink and pulls out all the stops to make this novel go BANG! Some neo-noir intrigue and the inclusion of a character named Martin Amis – portrayed here in meta-land as a smarmy, ethically clandestine foil for Self – were the cherry on top for this particular reader. But the real jewel to be found between the covers is Amis’s prose: it sizzles, it sashes, it pontificates as it regurgitates, it’s a lunatic howl from a saxophone and always, always, always a pleasure on the page to read and hear.

  • Bên Phía Nhà Z
    2019-02-25 00:13

    Bạn có tưởng tượng ra có độc giả nào đọc “Chuyện của nông trại” – Trại súc vật của Orwell mà lại chỉ băn khoăn cái cửa hông là cái cửa gì chứ hoàn toàn không biết nó phúng dụ ám chỉ toàn trị toàn tiếc chính trị chính em gì không?Bạn có bao giờ đọc một cuốn tiểu thuyết mà phá vỡ mọi luật lệ, dinh luôn tác giả vào thành một nhân vật trong truyện, thế là không chỉ có một hiện thân mà cùng lúc là hai không?Bạn có bao giờ hình dung nếu Nabokov thay vì viết chuyện ấu dâm, tập trung vào một thằng béo thích tất cả các loại dâm cũng như đồ cồn và ma túy và thức ăn nhanh và lảm nhảm không kém gì Humbert Humbert thì sẽ như nào?Chào mừng bạn đến với một kiệt tác hiện đại, được coi là đỉnh cao của thập kỷ 80, hay của cả thế kỷ 20, cuốn sách được Time bình chọn vào 100 tác phẩm vĩ đại nhất của văn chương Anh từ 1923 đến nay, “Tiền,” của ông tướng Martin Amis, trai đểu trai hư của văn học đương đại Anh, kẻ gây bao xì căng đan vì ngủ lang tóe loe và vô số chuyện đời tư bét nhè khác, và kẻ sẵn sàng nhảy theo mối lợi bỏ mặc chiến hữu Julian Barnes cùng vợ vốn là người đại diện, vì còn phải lo lấy thân với cái mồm rặt răng sâu, con trai của nhà văn lớn Hiệp sĩ Kingsley Amis.“Tiền” lấy bối cảnh ở một nước Anh năm 1981 khi cuộc hôn nhân hoàng gia của Diana chuẩn bị diễn ra với nhân vật trung tâm là một thằng béo nửa Anh nửa Mỹ đang cố làm một bộ phim ở New York. Thằng béo này có cái tên cực hài hước: John Self (một thủ pháp đặt tên rất quen thuộc của Amis mà độc giả có thể bắt gặp ở các cuốn khác), một cái tên như định mệnh sẽ đóng vai trò là một cú twist choáng váng ở cuối truyện. Tôi xin chỉ nói vậy không nhiều vị lại dùng dép tổ ong táng vào mặt tôi.Như chính lời Amis trả lời trong một phỏng vấn, “Tiền” cơ bản là một truyện không có cốt truyện, nó là hàng trăm trang độc thoại, lải nhải, dông dài, rỉa rói, lang thang, vạ vật, của đạo diễn mới giàu có chút tiền nhờ sử dụng yếu tố dâm loạn khi quay quảng cáo bán đồ ăn nhanh. John bay đi bay lại giữa London và New York để chuẩn bị cho một bộ phim của mình, hợp tác cùng những đối tác rất không ăn ý và đầy trục trặc, những Fielding Goodney, Christian Spunk Davis, Lorne Guyland… Một bộ sậu những nhân vật dớ dẩn và hài hước mà tác giả đã tạo dựng để vây quanh nhân vật chính khôi hài không kém. Bộ phim ban đầu mang tên “Đồng tiền lương thiện,” sau lại đổi thành “Đồng tiền bất lương”.

  • K.D. Absolutely
    2019-03-17 20:05

    One of the books that are hard to read but once you're done, you just would like to read them again. It is just too beautiful that the fulfillment that you get from it is indescribable. My first time to read a Martin Amis book and definitely will not be the last.Despite the many references that probably only Londoners or New Yorkers (two settings of the story) might be familiar with, the staccato narration and John Self's vicious vices (those I cannot relate with except of course good food), the playful tone and the narration towards the end are simply brilliant. If you stop reading before reaching the last page of the book, I can understand if you dish this book out as a failure. What I am trying to say is this: you have to read all the pages to appreciate the book's riveting beauty. There are many unforgettable (because they are witty and unconventional yet profound) quotes and will take me a long time to type in here. There is just this passage that struck me most: "I don't see Terry Linex any more because he owes me money. I don't see Alec Llewellyn any more because he owes me money. I don't see Barry Self any more because he owes me money." Reason: I can substitute my friends' names in those statements. I lost friends because they borrowed from me. Wait, some of them might be reading this review. I hope they get the message and they pay me so they'll have the courage to show their faces again and we can continue our friendships. I do miss you, Clare, Ace, Patrick, Zonnie, Enchong and Enteng. I enjoyed your friendships and it was my fault, I lent you some money. This book is true then. Money can destroy people.Anyway, this book is for tough readers. Not for everyone. But believe you me, this is worth all your time.

  • Lynne King
    2019-03-05 19:19

    I made an unwise choice here. I was swayed by the good reviews I read and naturally assumed the book would be excellent.I didn't like the character of John Self at all. I found him empty in "spirit", didn't go with his life style, neither was I taken with the form of the writing, as it lacked, to me, any sense of art or beauty. So the book has been despatched to the "clouds" in Kindle to enjoy eternity in the ether.Normally the reviewers are very good and I can be persuaded to follow their way of thinking and decide that I need to read a certain book, but regrettably not on this occasion.

  • Manny
    2019-03-17 23:12

    Not for the fainthearted or easily shocked - but if you don't fall into one of those categories, an absolutely first-rate comic novel. Impossible to forget John Self, surely one of the most unattractive anti-heroes ever.

  • David Lentz
    2019-02-28 19:56

    Let me begin by saying that this novel is certainly well worth the money -- a masterpiece always is. I hardly know where to begin as I was so moved by this literary tour de force on fiat currency. Martin Amis is a writer's writer, a novelist's novelist, a poet's poet. The syntax is elegant, exquisite, delicious, a joy to read -- it's a book you want never to end. Amis worked hard and even fought to add value to every single word in this allegorical novel or as William H. Gass said, you will discover "a world in every word." John Self is not himself. He suffers debilitating fits of unwellness which all trace back inevitably and prolifically to money, the primary driver of his existence. He is the penultimate lout, an oaf, a drunk, a brutish womanizer, a first-rate hedonist and producer of pornographic films -- he is the penultimate anti-hero of the late 20th century and we also see his cousins who bear a strong resemblance to the protagonists who populate the novels of JP Donleavy. John Self is victim of every shallow relationship and makes every mistake in the book but he just can't help himself -- he's only human. He is driven senseless, nearly out of his mind, by money to become an agent of his own demise, his own doom, his own destiny. John Self drives a car which model is branded a Fiasco and it is prone to capricious fits and starts, breakdowns of every variety, unreliable, expensive to repair and perpetually riding along the brink of disaster. Myriad memorable quotes haunt this epic, picaresque, existential, tragicomic allegory. "Do you want to know the meaning of life? Life is an aggregate, an aggregate of all the lives that have ever been lived on the planet Earth." Ultimately, John Self is responsible for the pain of every sin he commits which intrigue by virtue of their seemingly infinite variety -- how can one man inherit so much chaos and suffer such crisis over one midlife? If only he could end the pain and suffering which cause him to ponder his own suicide at the bloody hands of banknotes -- the ultimate suicide note. At one point the pornographic film producer, who considers himself an artist, discovers this: "But the clouds obey their natural functions and do not know or care how beautiful they are. What does know, what does care about its own beauty? Only beautiful women -- oh yeah, and artists, I suppose, real artists, not the sack, piss, con and bullshit varieties that I've always had to work my way around. I am an artist -- an escape artist." Aren't we all? One of many brilliant strokes in the story line is the repeated meeting of John Self with the author in a literal and allegorical chess match. If character is destiny, then it was bound to happen sometime. The dialogue is rich, real and idiosyncratic ripe with wit, honesty and meaning. The storyline is a labyrinth in which it is most agreeable to wander and come out right in the end, it all comes out in the wash. The odd, richly nuanced characters are credibly and honestly cast fresh off the streets of New York and London. I was genuinely thrilled finally to discover Martin Amis and really can't recommend him more highly as a post-modern master. Fish out your wallets and pay the price in hard currency because "Money" by Martin Amis is absolutely priceless.

  • Grazia
    2019-03-11 19:57

    "La lettura è un'attività sopravvalutata, — disse. —Almeno quanto le donne in Shakespeare" Non basta qualche sana risata.Non basta qualche riflessione acuta e feroce.Non basta l'intelligenza dello scrittore.Per farmi apprezzare questa lettura.Troppo caricaturale.Troppo distruttiva.Troppo sarcastica.Fino a metà, anche anche. Ma arrivare in fondo una sofferenza.

  • Kirsten
    2019-03-19 01:14

    I never thought anyone could make me sympathetic towards a drunk, drug addled, sex addicted porn film producer. But Martin Amis seems to have managed it. Though, a lesser person may have put it down before they got to that point. The only thing in my favor? It was an interlibrary loan! Damned if I wasn't going to get my $2 worth!The first half of the book? Dreadful. But once things started happening, I did start being much more interested. It took me a week to read the first half and two days to read the second. Another thing, the more I read books set in New York City like this one and like The Bonfire of the Vanities, the more I realize that NYC is another country, another planet, a whole other culture from the place I grew up and live in: eastern Washington State.I'm not sure if I really needed "to read this before I die", but I don't regret the time spent.

  • Darwin8u
    2019-02-27 18:04

    This is a hard book to review. 'Money'. I'll probably have to let the whole thing soak. It was brilliant, nimble, sharp, hard, completely balls-out-nuts and pornographic (not really in the PORNporn way, but in the MONEYporn way--yeah, folks, listen to the book you won't understand till you listen to it). If you put 'Money' together with Gaddis' JRand Wolfe's The Bonfire of the Vanities and then sprinkle it all with the vibe and intensity and amorality of Pynchon's Gravity's Rainbow you begin to get the literary footprint of the financial crisis of 2008 AND a peepshow into how reading/listening to 'Money' feels. Anyway, this is a novel I will need to chew on for a few weeks, months or decades before I've fully digested how I feel about it. Was it Bad Money or Good Money? Or just Money? For me it just wasn't as good as 'JR' and a day and plane ride from Manhattan later, I still feel a tad beat up by it (and my feet are still swollen from the City, the plane, or Martin Amis, or all three), so 4 stars, but absolutely brilliant still.

  • Heather
    2019-03-08 19:13

    This book took me a LONG time to read, and the despicableness of the protagonist, John Self, had a lot to do with it. I just couldn't get past how disgusting and loathsome he was, and didn't understand why anyone would want to waste their time reading about such an unlikable character. After struggling through the first half, however, the second half gripped me and I found that I couldn't put it down. Amis is an excellent writer, using witty, refined prose to describe a fairly abhorrent lifestyle and the consequences brought about by such a life. This is dealt with so effectively that you find yourself unable to stop thinking about the story long after turning the final page. A strange, difficult, but ultimately enjoyable read on the pitfalls of indulgence.

  • Gary
    2019-02-27 23:14

    I finished this book days ago, and I have to say that I am glad I read it. Many times Martin made me laugh outloud......I am having a very hard time deciding what kind of review to write for's about Money,and how Money jades you,makes you a sinner, etc. etc. etc. I have to say then when I got to the end of this novel that I actually liked it quite a times I found it tedious,and a good friend/reviewer of mine kept asking me if I had finished it yet,and how it seemed like it was taking me quite a while to finish. Part of it was busy at work, busy at home, getting sick in the midst of the pages,and then to be honest, I had to take a break from it.....So, to say that I loved, can't say that I did. To say that I hated it, absolutely not.....Maybe if I didn't feel pressured at work,and felt more carefree I would have been able to read it faster. To me , this was not an easy read, but like I said, I am glad I read it,and I find Martin to be quite an interesting character....his friendship with Christopher Hitchens prompted me to read this book. I find Christopher's writing to be fantastic,and very very amusing. Martin's writing to me seemed more subtle, more subdued....intelligent writer,and for that I am glad I read the book. I gave it 4 stars, at first, and then changed it to 3. I'd love to hear others' perspectives on this one,and see your reviews....I am still out and about on this one........ I'd say read needs to be experienced......

  • Faye
    2019-03-19 01:05

    Read: December 2017Any book where the author writes himself into the plot, then almost gets into a fight with his main character in a pub, is alright by me.3/5 stars

  • Lisa Reads & Reviews
    2019-02-26 19:00

    The experience of reading Money was sad, pathetic, funny—though I hated to laugh—shallow and stupid, then, just as I slipped into a careless ignorance and began to judge it, wrongly, glimmers emerged of rare depth and perceptiveness of certain segments of humanity, and although those segments are not interesting unto themselves, the painting of them here was slick and masterful. I was close to despising the novel, what a waste of time, paper and ink, then, powerful prose set in and I was awed. Despite myself. Who cares about a fat doofus, alcohol and porn -addicted, woman-beating, slob of a man with only money to love, if you can call it that? He was of no interest to me at all. Drunk humor wears thin quickly. The author set himself in the novel, just a bit player at first, but of course his character shines at the end. Is it the ego who insists upon such things? Let Martin indulge himself, I thought, but what a cheap me, on hindsight, it worked in a way that was somewhat interesting. The plot, once it got started was imaginative and unique, but I could have abandoned the book long before it became interesting. Stubbornness comes in handy sometimes, because I'm glad I finished it. John Self, the protagonist softens—the downfall that follows is well earned, but he gathers a little respect in the recovery. In essence, a thick-headed numbskull with few redeeming qualities, grows enough to register as human, then takes a tremendous tumble. He gains humanity only after all is lost. The twisted plot of his undoing is unveiled nicely, but all in all, while I'm satisfied with the character development, he was such an arse that I can't say I cheered. So, no recommendations from me on this novel. However, I'm open to trying other works by Martin Amis.

  • Rayroy
    2019-02-21 19:04

    I’m just going to come out and say it, John Self is the best character in literature written in the twentieth century; well to me he is anyway. The voice Martin Amis gives him is one of grit, lust, and obsession, a voice that’s true, real, hilariously comical and enlightening. I want to write a full review but I have a hangover from reading “Money”, so soon! I'm noting going to write full review.

  • Leo Robertson
    2019-03-02 23:20

    If you're having girl problems Amis feels bad for you son,this book is so shit I can't be bothered to rhyme Hit me!

  • Joselito Honestly and Brilliantly
    2019-03-16 00:14

    When he was interviewed in London on July 10, 2002 Martin Amis was asked if he has any ideal reader in mind whenever he writes. Part of his answer was:"...I think one shouldn't pussyfoot, and just say that you write the stuff that you would like to read. So you write for yourself, no doubt about that. But I do have a sort of romantic idea of someone in their twenties, of a certain bent, and when they pick up a book by me, they think--as I have done on several occasions--'Ah, here is one for me. Here is a writer who I'll have to read all of, because they're speaking directly to me, and they're writing what I want to read.' And sometimes you're doing the signing queue and a reader comes past and you sign the book, and there's a little exchange of the eyes, where you think, 'Ah, that's one of them.' So there is that ideal reader. And it's someone who's discovering literature and homes in on you. I'm aware of such readers."I gave this book[which sometimes carries the title Money:A Suicide Note] 3 stars first, because I want to read about money [of having much of it and not having much of it:] and second, it made me want to go one reading more of Martin Amis [this was my second book of him, the first--Koba the Dread--I liked even better:]. But in didn't get more than 3 stars from me because I didn't feel it speak directly to me.The principal protagonist, John Self, had a lot of money (spoiler alert takes effect here). With his money, he relentlessly indulged in his passions: good food, drinking, smoking, handjobs [masturbation, by himself or done by his girlfriend, hookers or any willing female:], blowjobs, sex [with his girlfriend, with a hooker, or with any willing female:], pornography [all kinds:], and his girlfriend [whom he knew does not really love him but hooks up with him only for his money:]. He also had another love interest, another female character who has her own money, and who may have loved him for what he is, but in the end he lost all these women.Why did John Self have a lot of money? He was supposed to be in the tv commercial business, but you can't find a single sentence or paragraph in the book where you would find him . If his lunches, dinners and cocktails with some people could be considered "work", then that was his job: eating, dinking and talking. Thereafter, he simply gets tons of money.How did he lose his money? That's for you to find out by reading the book. What did he do when he lost his money? He tried to kill himself but did not succeed. What was his life after this? Read the book.Even with a lot of sex revolving around the still-moneyed John Self, you cannot find here any Harold Robbins-type of sex scenes. There is creativity and restraint in Martin Amis' language, yet the eroticism is still there. Pornography, but with a lot of class and language mastery. In this paragraph, if I may cite an example, you would wonder what John Self was doing, whether he was walking or what [I quote it first without its last and final sentence:]:"As I walked home through streets the colour of oyster and carbon the air suddenly shivered and shook its coat, like a wet dog, like the surface of worried water. I paused--we all did--and lifted my face to the sky, as a slave or animal might lift its face, fearing punishment but risking it anyway. With banisters of sunbeams a lit staircase now lead straight to the blue heaven, far beyond the daily sky of empty eggtrays, full sinks, kitchen mists. 'Okay. Show me something,' I said, and wiped my face with my hand. Up in the clear distance basked a hollow pink cloud, a rosy cusp fastened by tendrils at either end, like a vertical eye, a vertical mouth. In its core lay a creaturely essence, meticulous, feminine...Dah--do I push that thought away? Issuing from my head, can pornography now shape the clouds and hold all sway in the middle air? Wait...the rose, the mouth, the glint. Come on, if that is what it looked like then that is what it looked like. I am probably not alone in supposing that I am shaped by how I see things."What the hell John self was doing here? Walking, looking up the sky, and waxing poetic about the clouds? No. He was lying down. Right above his face was...well, no need to say what it was. Let me just give you here the last sentence of the above-quoted paragraph:"And that cloud up there certainly looked like a pussy to me."

  • João Carlos
    2019-03-20 21:22

    Martin Amis (n. 1949)O romance “Money/Dinheiro” escrito pelo britânico Martin Amis (n. 1949), foi originalmente publicado em 1984, decorre entre Nova Iorque e Londres – nos tempos dos motins de Brixton e o casamento real de Carlos, Príncipe de Gales e Lady Diana Spencer.“Money/Dinheiro” começa com uma nota do escritor Martin Amis: “Este é um bilhete de suicídio. Quando o puserem de lado (e deverão sempre ler as coisas devagar, em busca de pistas ou indícios), John Self não existirá mais. Ou em todo o caso é essa a ideia. Nunca se sabe, porém, com bilhetes de suicídio, não é?”.John Self é um realizador de filmes publicitários na Grã-Bretanha, com um sucesso que lhe garantiu um convite para realizar a sua primeira longa-metragem nos Estados Unidos da América. A convite de Fielding Goodney viaja continuamente entre Londres e Nova Iorque, na preparação da produção cinematográfica, contactando com produtores, argumentistas, actores e actrizes, sem olhar a despesas ou limitações. A personagem de John Self - é simultaneamente o narrador e o protagonista – domina integralmente a narrativa; consumidor inveterado de fast-food e de álcool, adepto compulsivo de sexo e de prostitutas, acaba por revelar-se como um homem detestável, confuso nos comportamentos e nos raciocínios, utilizando uma linguagem excessiva, personificando e desprezando os valores sociais e humanos, revelando uma hipocrisia absolutamente atroz.As personagens secundárias acabam por ser fundamentais no desenvolvimento do enredo, com destaque para a sua namorada Silene Street e para o próprio Martin Amis que surge ele próprio na narrativa, acabando contratado para salvar um filme e um enredo que caminha rapidamente para o abismo. No final Self sempre tem algumas "virtudes": "Selina diz que eu não sou capaz de amor verdadeiro. Não é verdade. Eu amo verdadeiramente o dinheiro. É verdade que sim. Oh, dinheiro, eu amo-te."Ler o romance de Martin Amis em 2014, com uma temática que se mantém actual – o capitalismo desenfreado, os relacionamentos e ligações dominadoras e arrogantes entre pessoas, sem princípios ou escrúpulos – é revelador da sua qualidade literária e ficcional de um excelente escritor contemporâneo. “Money/Dinheiro” é um livro de excessos, uma história negra e depressiva, que retrata comportamentos sociais ambíguos, escrito com uma ironia sublime – mas por vezes desgastante na sua leitura, fruto de uma linguagem excessiva, mas que no final se revela extremamente compensadora.

  • Scott
    2019-02-22 00:13

    It's clear to me why Martin Amis called this book Money. The next best alternative title -The Adventures of a Misogynistic, Money-Obsessed and Self-Loathing Lush with a wee bit of a Junk Food Problem - wouldn’t have fit on the front cover. Money is a pretty intense book. John Self, the main character and narrator, is a one-man whirlwind of drinking, smoking, woman-hitting and money-squandering. I’ve read all this before, you’re thinking, casting your mind to Bukowski - but trust me you haven’t read it like this. This is excess as art, and from the first paragraph it’s clear that Amis is a top shelf writer-his sentences are laser guided in their explosive evocation of John self’s doomed journey through the film, advertising and grotty nightlife worlds of 80s London and New York.Amis spews (a verb I don’t generally like to use, but considering the excessive drinking, eating and general grossness of Money it seems quite apt) great prose at a fantastic rate and his memorable quote ratio is about the same per page as other writers manage in entire books. It’s a testament to Amis’ mad skills that despite all his awfulness Self is a strangely sympathetic character, and against my better judgement I found myself liking the guy.So far so good, and for two hundred or so pages I was enthralled. As I progressed, however I found myself checking the page count at the bottom of my e-reader with ever greater frequency. Self’s trajectory of dissolution, ever downward towards his inevitable comeuppance, began to grate. Another bender. Another seedy strip joint. Another awful, cringeworthy social faux pas. All the self-destruction began to get, well… dull. I must confess to skimming the last sixty pages or so in my hurry to move on to something more enjoyable. Usually, a quick skim to the end of a book endows my memory of it with a nasty odour, but Amis’s prose is so good that even after I lost interest scenes from the story lingered in my mind. Weeks later some of the more comical/horrific sequences are still vivid, and my recollection of enjoying them hasn’t dimmed. I didn’t like where John Self’s narrative was going, or where it ended, but Martin Amis’s writing is so enjoyable in itself that it transcends the story he tells.

  • André
    2019-02-23 23:02

    John Self é o herói de "Money". Um herói totalmente contrário àquele que é o conceito a que todos nós associamos a palavra. Não é um homem musculado cheio de virtudes que salva a donzela. Não é um aristocrata bem-educado e de pensamentos puros que luta pela por um ideal romântico. É, isso sim, um homem do vício: fast food, álcool, comprimidos, pornografia, violência e muito dinheiro. Tudo bem misturado numa amálgama de devassidão sem vergonha. Tendo em conta isto,talvez não devesse aplicar o termo herói para caracterizar John Self, contudo é o que o melhor descreve. O mundo descrito em "Money", Nova-Iorque e Londres 1981, parece estar completamente dominado pelo poder do dinheiro. E Self, a transbordar de notas, simboliza um novo paradigma de sociedade onde a única relevância que as pessoas têm é o tamanho da sua conta bancária.Este não é um livro "bonito". É engraçado, por vezes, com as situações ridículas em que John Self se coloca e as pessoas com quem ele se relaciona. Mas é um humor depressivo quando refletimos sobre o ridículo exposto. Mas o que sobressai é a violência e a falta de qualquer moral. Algumas partes acho que vão ficar gravadas na minha mente e não estou muito contente quanto a isso.No entanto, tive alguma dificuldade em entusiasmar-me com a leitura. Por vezes sentia que o livro era demasiado repetitivo nas situações descritas apenas, na minha opinião, para tornar óbvia a ideia central. Isto aliado ao facto que todas as personagens me parecerem caricaturas, cujo único objectivo era serem usadas por Martin Amis para explorar a decadência da cultura capitalista, fez com que não tivesse gostado muito do livro.

  • Alex
    2019-03-01 23:55

    A great rambling hilarious explosion of stream-of-consciousness writing from one of the more execrable protagonists I've run across, Money is surprisingly effective. Surprising because there's a novel buried in all this postmodernism, with an actual plot and actual twists, so cleverly hidden that I didn't even see it coming until it showed its hand. And it's that plot that makes me like this book much better than ancestors like Tropic of Cancer that seem to disdain anything like it.The distance between author and narrator corresponds to the degree to which the author finds the narrator wicked, deluded, pitiful or ridiculoussays Martin Amis, or the character named Martin Amis inside the book, and John Self is all of those things in spades. In case you have any doubts about that, Amis the author will make it crystal clear:It's always been phenomenally clear to me that the women I've hit don't like being hit one bit. If they did, what would be the point of hitting them?John - a wonderful kind of unreliable narrator, by the way, because while he always tells us the truth, he also tends to be blackout drunk during key moments - is wicked, deluded, pitiful and ridiculous, and I spent the book wondering how the hell things seemed to be going so well for him; what's the message Amis is sending here? Nihilism? Why is he writing a book in which his completely horrible protagonist gets away with everything? Is there a moral philosophy of fiction? When I create a character and put him or her through certain ordeals, what am I up to - morally? Am I accountable?And what if he has no real ordeals? What if he wins? Then what are you up to, morally? And then there are spoilers: (view spoiler)[He doesn't, and maybe you saw this coming but the essential grift of both the plot and the book completely snuck up on me: I was hoodwinked as badly as Self was.We are all stomped and roughed up and peed on and slammed against the wall by money.And nobody gets away with anything. (hide spoiler)]The book can drag at times: there's no variance in tone or pace, it's just one breathless rush of awful behavior, and it does start to muddle together at a certain point. But one can't really knock a writer for achieving exactly what he set out to. This is a complete success.

  • Erik F.
    2019-02-26 02:04

    This may have worked better as a novella or a short story; the book in its published form has a large skeleton but hardly enough meat to cover its bones (I was trying to think of a money-related metaphor to use here, but no — too contrived!). The protagonist and the sordid story he tells ultimately aren't interesting enough to sustain the book's length. Despite the abundance of clever, precise, or intriguingly off-kilter one-liners and descriptions (a few of them brilliant, actually), it's a novel too sleazy and tiresome for me to enjoy completely.

  • Alanna
    2019-03-12 00:02

    There's one line in here that is possibly the funniest sentence I've read, ever, and my thinking that sure makes me a lousy feminist, but if you've read "Money" and you have any sense of humor you know exactly of which line I speak... not as moving as "Time's Arrow" but with just as much to say about the twentieth century, this novel has helped to cement my admiration of Amis, his alleged conservatism notwithstanding. I'd like to play chess with him, even though I don't know how.(Hi Schmoopy)

  • John
    2019-03-03 19:02

    Wow Wow Wow.A Londoner in NYC.The cab bastard-driver in first few pages seized my mind. A story about making film.Amis said in the Preface:Money is a suicide note.The jokes in the book really damn jokable.The time passed when it was time to go.