McEwan, Ian (b. 1948)

Amsterdam

New York

Double Day

1998

"Vernon slumped with his tea while his mental odometer tallied the insults and humiliations."

Vernon slumped with his tea while his mental odometer tallied the insults and humiliations. Not enough that Frank Dibden was treacherous, that all his colleagues deserted him, that every newspaper was cheering his dismissal; not enough that the whole country celebrated the crushing of the flea and that Garmony was still at large. Lying on the bed beside him was a venomous little card gloating over his downfall, written by his oldest friend, written by a man so morally eminent he would rather see a woman raped in front of him that have his work disrupted. Perfectly hateful, and mad. Vindictive. So it was war. Right, then. Here we go, don't hesitate. He drained his cup, picked up the phone, and dialed a friend at New Scotland Yard, a contact from his old crime desk days. Fifteen minutes later all the details had been imparted, the deed was done, but Vernon was still back with his thoughts, still not satisfied. [...]
(p. 159)

Machine::Odometer

Reading

Ian McEwan, Amsterdam (New York: Anchor Books, 1999).

05/14/2011