First of all, I'm rubber, you're glue . . .
As for the real subject at hand, It's been a long, long time
since I've read Jealousy. I think it was my second by him
(after The Eraser). I had never read anything like it. The
empty hole where the narrator should have been really blew me
away (and, young and naive as I was, I felt very proud for
figuring it out). I loved the subtle shifts in the story,
too, how the narrative became increasingly unreliable, so the
reader becomes more and more skeptical of the affair even as
the narrator becomes more insistent and specific about
it.
In fact, I thought it was everything Heller's Something
Happened
(nothing happened!) was supposed to have been, how it danced
around a topic a narrator didn't want to face. Irvine Welsh's
Maribou Stork Nightmare worked the same kind of avoidance as
a coma victim's mind tries not to face what put him into the
coma.
Mark
ps. and yes, I am better than you.
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