England, England

In Julian Barnes' extremely cynical work, England, England we find, not only terrific one-liners, but the finest example of that driest brand of wit so peculiar to the British Isles.England, England tells the story of Sir Jack Pitman, an ambitious but clumsy business tycoon who entertains, to put it mildly, illusions (or could it be delusions) of grandeur.A patriot in the extreme, Sir Jack gazes at his beloved England on the eve of the third millennium and is dismayed by what he sees: a tired and haggard Empire, one that has run its course and one on which the sun is just about to set for the very last time. As Sir Jack seeks to enliven both England and his own private empire, he hatches a novel idea.England, Pitman decides, could and should, become the center of world tourism. The world may have become jaded, Sir Jack decides, but England, with its rich history and centuries of accumulated wisdom, still has much to offer. Rightly or wrongly, Sir Jack decides that tourists would be just as happy viewing an historical replica as they would the real thing. With this idea in mind, he sets out to create England, England on the Isle of Wight, a small island off the southern coast of England. England, England is no Disneyworld, however, replete with dizzying rides and silly cartoon characters, and as Sir Jack strives to recreate all that the United Kingdom has come to symbolize, he decides to open this lavish theme park only to those with the most pristine of credit ratings.Pitman's assembled staff are quite an interesting mix. One of the best and, paradoxically, one of the worst, is Martha Cochrane, a cynical, bright and empty woman, hired specifically to elevate England, England to a level of absurdity previously unknown.Nothing is spared in bringing Sir Jack's dream to fruition and England, England emerges as the total British experience, complete with historical figures and pubs that dispense the requisite warm beer.In England, England, appearances are the most important thing. Writing with biting satire and a darkly misanthropic vision, Barnes fashions Pitman into a man who cares little for historical accuracy, but simply wants to make people feel better than they really are. At its heart, England, England is one of the most stinging indictments of today's corporate business practices and the erosion of social values that support the pursuit of money at the cost of personal humanity and freedom.Although England, England may be just a bit too British for the general American readership, I think most will still find this book immensely enjoyable. The characters are more than a little despicable, but each receives a reward that is proportionate to his deeds.Barnes, as always, writes brilliantly, and this alone, makes the book worth reading. Although I loved England, England, I can understand why many people may ultimately feel depressed by its theme and come to feel that we all, rather than just Barnes' characters, unfortunately, live in a

Julian Barnes didn't impress me much with his first book, "Metroland", so it was with some scepticism and doubt that I started on his 1998 Booker Prize nominated "England, England". The prognosis was good after reading the first short section entitled "England" and any reservations I had quickly lifted. Though this promising introduction proved relevant, it didn't quite point to the direction the novel was headed for. What ensues is an engaging mix of some pretty serious ideas, brilliantly executed. Barnes' craft, his razor sharp wit and sense of humour reminds me very much of Martin Amis, another luminous contemporary novelist with an uncompromising yet dazzling style. Here, in "England, England", Barnes uses satire to present, analyse and explore the modern day obsession with "replicas", the advantages of which over their sources have been touted without any genuine understanding of its implications. Sure, "originals" are a true slice of life and therefore, messy, smelly and unpredictable. Replicas, on the other hand, are neat, run like clockwork, and given to stage management for optimum commercial effect. But they're sterile and false and the antithesis of life itself. Notice how the actors in the Isle of Wight (England, England) grow unruly, break down, or start to invent human forms of activity after the loss of contact with the real world. Ironically, Martha, the damaged heroine, learns a few hard lessons from her real life interaction with the likes of Paul and Sir Jack. Barnes punctuates his tale with hilarious surprises along the way. These little flourishes only serves to whet your appetite. But he delivers each time and...how ! The last instalment is an absolute coup de grace, an elaborate painting (almost) of the future of old England. The effect is both poignant and ambivalent and to be relished by the reader. "England, England" is serious fiction of the first order. It is thematically rich, full of humour and wit, and a joy to read. I cannot recommend it highly enough.

I could not trust the brief from the hard cover editions, If you want to compare nationalistm, there is MAUVEIS SANG from Arthur Rimbaud. Mr. Barnes is right abuot England is becoming Disneyland (even Disney was spanish born). He depicts much from the british culture.It is quite different from Spain ( because I'm from a former spanish colohy), where althought there are not becoming Disneyland. After a few years living in the island ( England) it shall not notice such a big difference between US and England. Let the Connaisseur talks.

Prior to this I had just finished "Money: a suicide note" by Martin Amis. Since then Amis seems to have become increasingly bitter, self absorbed, and consequently his humor is often hidden so deeply as to be inperceptable, not so Barnes. "England, england's" only shortcoming is that it ends. Barnes writes an intelligent, hilarious page turner. His observations are spot-on and his characters brilliantly drawn.He sustains the plot while challenging us to consider reality and progress.Qualifying my comments as coming from an ex-patriot Englishman (some of the subtler touches may be lost on non-natives), this was by far the funniest book I have read this year, and probably for many years past.Watch out for the "Historian" - his flights of pseudo intellectual fancy fly high but never ever fail to come down to earth with superb punchlines.An absolute treat !

Barnes is still one of the best writers living today, in company with a mostly British crowd. Why can't American authors learn to love character development, plot construction and language as the Brits do?