![]() ![]() Far less sketchy – in fact punchy and vivid as bright dollops of gouache – are the lives and voices of those around her.īeginning with the billionaire who "talked in his open-necked shirt" while he lunched her at his club before her flight, continuing with the man sitting next to her on the plane (referred to, somewhat comically throughout the novel, simply as "my neighbour"), and moving on through an array of friends, colleagues and students, our narrator engages in a series of conversations which form the substance of the book. We gather that she's divorced, a mother of two boys, but even these facts are drawn in a kind of indeterminate narrative pencil, as if at any moment they might blur or be rubbed out. Our narrator is a novelist (her personal details are kept so determinedly hazy that it feels almost embarrassing when, late in the book, someone suddenly uses her name) who is flying to Athens to teach a summer writing course. ![]()
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