A Buyer’s Market by Anthony Powell
A Buyer’s Market by Anthony Powell
This is the second novel in the twelve-novel series A Dance to the Music of Time. It reminds me of A La Recherche du Temps Perdu. It is magnificent, elaborate and very often hilarious. Like in a Psychology test, to put down feelings, words, adjectives associated with the exquisite experience of reading this book: majestic, British, superb, splendid, wonderful…nec plus ultra, but then there are another 10 volumes and I expect them to be at least as majestic as the first two.
In fact, I love the British, not the ones we met drinking their brains out, but the gentlemen of the Victorian period, the ones from this novel, or from the stories of Somerset Maugham. Sometimes I wish I had lived in The Great British Empire, in the XIXth century, even if I haven’t quite made up my mind if in rainy Britain or in the Indies, or perhaps some other colonies.
I laughed with tears at the beginning of A Buyer’s Market, when sugar is poured on Windmerpool’s head. Then again, when the same odd Windmerpool makes a strange appearance, in the “private dungeons „of a small palace in the country, afterwards managing to produce a car accident and more mischief.
Even if I lose track of some of the very many characters, this is one of the best books I have read, the pleasure it gave me makes me think that I would like to read the 12 volumes again. In the meantime, I take my time, making sure I will not end this exciting read too soon.
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