Money by Martin Amis

Money is like a rambling standup comic monologue by one of those chain-smoking, foul-mouthed, self-deprecating, sarcastic comedians who make you laugh in spite of yourself, even while you cringe at the lack of political correctness and the cruel nature of the humor. Among other things, Amis satirizes Hollywood stars, fast food, life in the fast lane, and mainly money--the pure pornography of it and addiction to it. This is is seriously funny stuff, in the true sense of the words.

The monologue is given by John Self, an ad-man who makes a living creating soft-porn commercials for junk food. As the story begins he has become involved in putting together a movie with a producer he just happens to meet on an airplane. Flying back and forth from London to New York City, he indulges in his various vices in both places--smoking incessantly, drinking alcohol to oblivion, indulging in junk food, having vigorous and inventive sex with whomever, and "pleasuring himself" with the aid of pornography. Along with the rest of society, however, what really turns him on is money, lots and lots of money.

This novel manages to be crude, insightful, ironic, comedic, savage, Freudian, lyrically descriptive, and somewhat post-modern (Amis includes himself as one of the characters), all at once. The writing is dazzling, although verging at times on pretentiousness. The hero has few admirable qualities. The graphic sex scenes are undoubtedly the most non-erotic in literature (but that is intentional). The plot is contrived and non-believable. It's a great book.

Included in the Times Top 100. Recommended for those not easily offended who have a sardonic sense of humor.