I must have watched too many thrillers on the teevee to have such boring expectations of the novel. It’s not just what happens to the characters that matter here. The narcissism was terrifyingly familiar. The frailties and realism of the dénouement were frustrating and utterly satisfying at the same time (only Boyle can do that).
Identity theft is such a scary thing. I was thinking, We need to check our credit rating! I need to change my I/C number (I can’t do that)! There was a scene early-ish on in the book that seemed to be a tiny rant against modern banking. It was published not long before the crash, so it must have been written close to the peak of all the madness.
What can I say? I think Boyle’s a genius storyteller. And I haven’t read Wild Child, but I’m curious to know if it has anything to do with the Wild Child mentioned in this book.