What To Look For in an Agent
Green skin, a gluttonous gut, shiny red nose, fake hair, a superior dandy smile and suede loafers are the signs of a man with more money than sense. Yellow fur, snarling grin, vicious teeth, padded paws and a mane are the giveaway clues that in front of you is a lion. Lightly beating drums and the sharp twang of strings being plucked building on the horizon, looming nearer, tempo rising and the occasional whimper of an organ in the distance or clang of symbols are unmistakably the mark of a shark approaching from beneath the water. Characterless ties, archaic comb-overs, rosy cheeks of innocence, the jealous scent of fifty pound notes, the dusty grimace of Etonian grooming, the daunting realisation that you are under that shining black shoe, the sudden lightness of your pockets, and those gold-ringed fingers ravaging your wallet are all clear marks of a politician approaching. Worn corduroy blazer over unbuttoned waistcoat, floppy hair bouncing in the wind, light grey stubble and thick-rimmed glasses, carrying a retro briefcase, listening to Bob Dylan, muttering meaningless fables from ancient writers concerning the nature of democracy lying principally in man’s own bludgeoning of himself – spot these traits and unmistakably a university professor is marching straight towards you.
A money-hungry talent leech who sucks the life out of your veins, pumps you up with chirpy propaganda, sticks you on a totem pole outside a bookshop and takes every penny you ever made is a literary agent.
All these things should be avoided.
A stark dystopian world of insatiable greed and ceaseless distraction is that of young Gustav Klein, a German twenty-three-year-old who has just sold his hotel in Munich. He is looking for nothing more than escape. The modern gadgets which flash their endless advertisements are locking society inside brick houses, allowing them to be dumbed-down further by the money-hungry gremlins in the high towers. Gustav Klein, meanwhile, begins a journey over the myriad terrains of Europe, through countless bottles on the corner of morbid winter streets, coloured by the peculiar characters he encounters, some who bestow upon him their wisdom, some who fuel his disdain, some who ignite his desires, and some who merely drink with him until they hit the floor in a merry temperament.
But the hedonistic, aimless rambling must come to end, for life calls. And Gustav lands on a mountain in Scotland, searching for release, for total nature, untouched by the destructive hand of man. But, it seems, it is too late... In this harrowing tale of youthful rebellion, dark nihilism on the road, heavy drinking beatniks, political adversity and the capricious desires of the gluttonous modern man, the reader is taken by the hand firmly and hauled into a bleak world where every man lives for himself. Close your eyes if you are scared, but you cannot escape.
Genre – Travel, Political, Dystopia, Romance
Rating – PG15
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