I've just finished Martin Amis's Rachel Papers, and I must say: this is a very funny book. I know Amis has been accused of all sorts of things -- some not very flattering. But this novel -- this vignette, really -- is a successful one. Cast a coming of age tale, Rachel is a smart, sensitive, melancholy portrayal of its time and characters. Most everything here revolves around sex: but unlike other novelists, Amis has the courage to confront its humor, its absurdity. Amis's characters -- including his central personality, Charles -- position sex as a defense against time: Charles's brother in law, for instance, refuses to impregnate his wife, for fear that the sex with her will never be the same -- that is: that time will render her sexless. For his part, Charles is as virile as they come: sex for him is a way to accelerate time, to propel him forward into university and beyond. As I say, all of this is shrouded in a certain melancholy: as if even the most hopeful relationships -- and the most enthusiastic liaisons -- are fated to defeat, or at least to decline. Along the way, as those relationship progress, flounder, and fall, there's a lot of laughter: Amis makes clear that not all of it is funny, but then, even in sadness, there's a certain humor. Amis is nothing in Rachel if not honest.
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