I am an enormous fan of the British writer Nick Laird, whose first novel, Utterly Monkey, was raucous and funny and evocative of modern life among young Londoners. I just finished his new novel, Glover’s Mistake, which is smart and knowing about relationships and personalities and art and love. In both books, what jumps out is Laird’s brilliant way with words, which may not be as surprising to everyone as it is to me, since apparently Laird is something of a hot shit poet. But still, every couple pages contains some gem. Here are a few, plucked at random: “A businessman loosened his tie as he strode towards them and then violently yanked it out from his collar, as though it has turned into a cobra. This was the end of work and the end of the week. Night was arriving and the darkness was welcome. It licensed an adjustment of mood.” “The curtains were still open and out to the south, over zone three and zone four and zone five and onwards, a silver bank of cumuli had aggregated. It was shining eerily, lanterned from within by an invisible moon.” “David watched a volley of steam rise from the kettle’s underbite, and then clicked it decisively off.” The kettle’s underbite! Oh, isn’t that magnificent!
