Privileged positions

I grew up near Dun Laoghaire, County Dublin, a seaside suburb that rejoices in about 4 bookshops. When I'm back, I like browsing there and seeing the different ranges – it seems they’re not all dictated by Head Office like the stock in Waterstones et al. There is quite a mark-up on UK books, so a book costing £12.99 here might cost 18.99 euros, ie around £15.60. This seems a bit much, so I don’t always buy.



My hesitation over spending 19 euros would seem truly laughable to the main characters in The Privileges by Jonathan Dee. This fantastic novel begins with a wedding: golden couple Cynthia and Adam are getting married, age 22, the first of their friends to do so. The novel charts their ascent to dizzying financial success – Manhattan penthouse apartment, beach house in the Caribbean, charitable foundation, private jet – through underhanded dealings by Adam. Yet, without plot-spoiling, the novel doesn’t end with anyone in handcuffs. This has infuriated some reviewers, but isn’t life often like that? People get away with things.

This Observer review points out that the author shies away from judging or criticising his golden creations. I agree, though it’s worth observing a potential lesson in how their children turn out. Being given everything they could possibly want turns them, in daugher April’s case, into an empty-headed brat, and in son Jonas’s case, into an ascetic world-hater.

There's no denying that Cynthia and Adam are very interesting characters. They live for each other, and for the moment. They never look back. They never feel any self-doubt, or if they do, they stamp on it and move on. It should make me hate them, but it feels exhilarating, and admirable: perhaps because they’re the opposite to me, a novel-reading type who lies around worrying about 19 euros. It reminds me that characters don’t have to be likeable if they’re interesting.

The prose is a joy, and the first chapter is outstanding: one long cinematic scene that feels as if the author is on a giant dolly camera, tracking seamlessly from the bride to the brother of the groom to the wedding planner. It’s also very funny. In a blink-and-you’ll miss it vignette during the wild post-wedding party, Marietta, the bride’s best friend, has agreed to cater to her boyfriend’s sexual fantasies concerning the hotel gym (she rationalises: who’s to say what’s weird?). As he has his way, she finds herself recalling a line from The Godfather: ‘Someday, and that day may never come … I may call upon you to do a service for me …’