The Case of the General's Thumb

On page 92, the author writes: "He was beginning to tire of the whole thing." What is true for that character will be true for many readers. This social satire/espionage caper, set in Ukraine and Russia and written by Andrey Kurkov, is in perpetual motion, eventually whirling its way up its own arse.

On the Edge

It is too easy to satirize phony gurus (are there any other kind?), so what Edward St. Aubyn does in this novel is better: He blends his characters' often sincere striving for enlightenment with their more earthly goals (the pursuit of a woman, for example), while throwing jabs here and there at New Age nostrums. To the author's credit, the line between charlatan and second coming of Seneca is not always obvious.

The Great Gatsby

Reading Gatsby now, knowing its story and themes, I am able to appreciate more fully Fitzgerald's gorgeous writing. When for example Nick understands, in Chapter 4, Gatsby's aim — in a word, Daisy — there is this: "He came alive to me, delivered suddenly from the womb of his purposeless splendor." I cannot imagine a more perfect sentence. There is imagery, metaphor, alliteration (the p's in "purposeless splendor"), rhythm, elegance, simplicity, and a furtherance of plot. All in fourteen words!

It is interesting that two books published in 1925, this one and Manhattan Transfer, perhaps best capture the New York of the Jazz Age and yet are so different stylistically. Fitzgerald, unlike Dos Passos, does nothing radical here, but what he does is as good as it's ever been done.

The 500

Robert Harris is the among the best writers of thrillers and historical fiction. His recent The Fear Index was, typically for him, smart and exciting. Matthew Quirk enters the field with The 500, which is neither all that smart nor very exciting. The action makes sense only in the most basic ways -- yes, that character could have crawled under that porch and listened to two people talking above him -- but very little of it is believable. This is due to poor writing and a lack of organic development. Given this same plot outline, Harris could have produced, as they say on the flaps, a ripping yarn.

Max and the Cats

I have not read Life of Pi, whose author lifted the idea from this short novel by Moacyr Scliar, but I doubt it could be as effective, and affecting, as the original. Scliar spins fables that, far from seeming outlandish, hum with verisimilitude. The line between truth and illusion has rarely been so brilliantly blurred.