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332 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1936
the middle of the middle class landless gentry, a dull, shabby, dead-alive, ineffectual family, a listless, gutless, unsuccessful people who drifted along in an atmosphere of semi-genteel failure.From such beginnings, perhaps it is easy to reckon why Gordon is less than energetic to make a success of his life.
Something deep below made the stone street shiver. The tube-train, sliding through middle earth. He had a vision of London, of the western world; he saw millions of slaves toiling & grovelling about the throne of money. The earth is ploughed, ships sail, miners sweat in dripping underground tunnels, clerks hurry for the 8:15 with the fear of the boss eating at their vitals.An amazing, intriguing, occasionally baffling litany of Orwellian alienation but by way of well-crafted images.
Even in bed with their wives, they tremble & obey. Obey whom? The money priesthood, the pink-faced masters of the world. The upper crust. A welter of sleek young rabbits in a thousand guinea motor cars, of golfing stockbrokers & cosmopolitan financiers, of bankers, newspaper peers, novelists of all four sexes, American pugilists, lady aviators, film stars, bishops, titled poets & Chicago gorillas.