Elizabeth Day (1) (1978–)

Martin was a scholarship boy who went to public school and came under the aegis of Ben. They went to Cambridge and Martin covered up a scandal for Ben which meant he was paid hush money for years. When that ended Martin tried to get the police interested but they weren't. Now Ben is running for Prime Minister with the backing of another friend, bully Jarvis. When Ben's sister dies, Martin is invited to the funeral and reconnects with the family including activist daughter Cosima and the show more whole house of cards starts to topple.
To say that I couldn't find a single likeable character in the whole book is an understatement but for some reason I kept reading and ended up really enjoying this story. It's super cliched, rich privilege and Tory politicians, wokeness and political correctness, hippy trail and power politics but it's written with a real elan which makes the narrative skip along. show less

Ugh, how do I unread a book? All praise to the author for crafting such a gripping story, but now I would like to pour bleach into my eyes and set fire to my Kindle. What a detestable character - and for once, I don't mean the middle class Rosamunde Pilcher rejects, but the deeply unreliable and itchingly unlikeable narrator. I haven't been so repulsed since catching a stray half hour of American Psycho. Creepy creepy creepy. But the four stars remain, for the author's great observational show more skill and deftly-woven plotting, not to mention creating a character with such a powerful but negative effect. show less

Ben Fitzmaurice is blessed with money, charm, and the confidence that comes of being part of the ruling class. Revolving around his path toward being Prime Minister are his wife Serena, who is discovering that being a wealthy and attractive helpmeet for her husband’s ambitions is not all she hoped for as she enters middle age; Martin, a former schoolmate who did not come from money and never really fit in; and Jarvis who has enough money to buy his way in and a savage appetite, but lacks show more Ben’s polish. Ben and Serena’s eldest child has always rebelled against her class and has become an activist in a radical protest movement (modeled on Extinction Rebellion). Likewise, Ben’s sister Fliss has chosen a different path but has fallen into addiction. It’s her funeral, after drowning in Bali, that brings them all together just as Ben’s ambitions propel him to the top. But there is a family secret that will derail everything, and it all pivots on a horrific crime.

The crime itself is described in gruesome detail about halfway through the novel (consider this a trigger warning), a contrast to the author’s sometimes snarky, sometimes ironic, always insightful commentary on the characters and their motivations. Martin speaks to us through a journal with a sharp, sarcastic style that hides his vulnerability; Serena finds herself groping for an identity beyond that formed in her younger years, one in which women “should make themselves as slender as possible and then, perhaps, one day they could disappear entirely and let the men take over.” We follow the daughter as she embarks on a couple of risky protests that lead to disaster. One of them is at a reception at the British Museum where Ben and Serena make a PR-worthy appearance; Serena smolders as Ben quietly snipes at the absurdity of the exhibition’s “woke” subject: female rage.

There is no real mystery to solve here, though there is a crime and a covered-up police investigation. This is more of an investigation of the role of wealth and privilege in the distribution of power, a crime too vast to be easily resolved. The author combines acute observation of the political moment (one character, a bumbling politician, overcomes a scandal by being a contestant on a grotesque reality TV show that makes him instantly popular) and a surprisingly tender examination of a small group of people with disparate desires, all struggling one way or another with a need to belong.

Brilliantly plotted and acutely observed, One of Us is a smart political thriller wrapped inside a family drama that skewers privilege while treating its characters with insight and compassion.

Reposted from Crime Fiction Review - https://crimefictionreview.com/one-of-us-by-elizabeth-day/ show less

What a superb book! I have had a few disappointments over the last couple of years, with books that I had eagerly awaited turning out to be far less enjoyable than I had hoped. This, however, represented the other side of the coin. I hadn't come across Elizabeth Day before, but took a punt on the basis of a very favourable review in The Guardian, and found myself smitten by one of the most engaging books I have read for a long time. I found 'Paradise City' reminiscent of both John show more Lanchester's marvellous 'Capital' (one of my all-time favourites) and Sebastian Faulks's 'A Week in December', though Ms Day brings her own twist to the interlaced narrative format.

The book takes the form of four separate narratives, each focusing on a separate character. It is readily apparent how three of them relate to each other, though the fourth appears wholly discrete from the others. Sir Howard Pink is a self-made millionaire who appears to have everything, though his life has been blighted ever since, eleven years ago, his nineteen-year-old daughter disappeared. As the novel opens he is checking in to a luxurious Mayfair hotel as part of a recurring ritual in which he briefly withdraws from his hectic life to ponder over his loss. During this retreat, he has a dramatic encounter with Beatrice, the focal character of one of the other narratives.

Beatrice is a political refugee, seeking sanctuary from her former life in Uganda where, for reasons that gradually emerge, her life is endangered. As the book starts she is bemoaning the poverty of her life in London which is exacerbated by her work as a chambermaid in the luxurious but curiously impersonal hotel. She is lumbered with unsociable hours and frequently demeaning work, and is scarcely ever noticed by the hotel's guests as she scurries from room to room fulfilling her role. Sir Howard does notice her, however, and their encounter will come to be a pivotal moment in her life.

Esme is a journalist, working on the scurrilous Sunday Tribune, and has just penned a story about business tycoons, including Sir Howard. Though grateful for the free publicity that her article offers, Sir Howard was upset by the paper's use of an old photograph of him. Esme is despatched to take him for an expensive lunch at another top hotel by way of apology, and scents the possibility of a future article. Still relatively new to London, she is plagued by her constant sense of having fallen woefully short of her mother's high expectations for her.

The fourth prop of the story is Carol, a recently-widowed woman in her sixties who lives in a flat in West London. Still slightly shell-shocked by her bereavement, Carol is frequently slightly disengaged from the world around her. The reader is left beguiled, trying to work out how she will fit into the plot.

Elizabeth Day captures the tone of her four principal protagonists with great precision. All of them are beautifully drawn. Sir Howard is at times a perfectly dreadful man, who behaves abominably, yet it is difficult not to feel sorry for him. Indeed, I found it difficult to suppress the odd inappropriate snigger at some of his more appalling political rants! I know that Day is herself a journalist, and her portrayal of Esme's daily grind at the Sunday Tribune resonates with plausibility.

The storylines are well-defined and cohere seamlessly, resulting in a very enjoyable and rewarding book. show less