I found myself caught in the seasons of Hollingsworth’s 80s London, I wish the end didn’t seem like such a cartoon though.

After reading the other reviews I was wondering if I would really be able to get into this story. I was pleasantly surprised at the fact that I really felt compelled to keep reading. I agree that the writing is wonderful and, for me, the pace seemed to fit the prose. I really started to care for the characters; Nick and his adopted family, the Feddens. I felt Catherine was the least developed character and I thought that was a bit of a shame. All in all to get me to read a lengthy novel with English social classes, AIDS, and the 80’s as central issues is an acheivement in and of itself.

On the whole I enjoyed this book, though I did get a bit bored in the middle of it. Not sure it was good enough to win a prize, will have to check out what the competition was that year.

I totally disagree with the reviews below. OK – I never had a desperate urge to read this book – perhaps to do with the uninspiring blurb? But I thought that it was a multi-faceted triumph. Lots of shades of grey in terms of morals and motivations, a convincing portrait of Nick’s journey from innocence to experience and a satisfyingly open ending.

Glad that I bought this one.

Well I don’t really. I’m not a massive fan of the Booker Prize, but this was part of a 3 for 2 (sucker!). I’m prepared to give it a go.

Another to add to the collection of books best left unread. On the surface, the writing is fine and delicate, the tone is very in and knowing I suppose he’s aiming for the satirical or a prize for observation and capturing of the sound of an era and lifestyle. But the 80s were done best by Martin Amis in Money, satire and the ear for dialogue were done best by Waugh, for dysfunction we can turn to Will Self, for verve Julian Barnes fits the bill, for keeping one off the edge McEwan does it better, and so on… There really is no there there. Not quite as frustrating as Ishiguro’s the unconsoled but strangely unsatisfying. Note to self: just because something wins the Booker Prize doesn’t mean it’s worth your time.

Same thought as the other reviewer…beautifully written, but I had to fight the urge to stop reading. I can only figure that the Booker Prize here was based on the fact that every sentence was gorgeous, even if the story line was rather weak.

3/4 of the way through and I’m constantly wonder how this won the Booker prize.