The climax is as good as any thriller (I completely missed my stop on the tube, finally snapping out of a daze thinking, "hey I haven't been this excited since Jodi Foster went head to head with Buffalo Bill in Silence Of The Lambs!"). Full grown men startle for their utter failure in self-reflexion as much as for the appalling lengths to which they will go in the name of self-interest. It's difficult to work out who's meant to be the villain, mostly because I think everyone was. Before long the threads are pulling together into a whirling tarantella of greed assaulting you from every side. From the beginning Burrough draws you into the preposterousness of what is happening, setting out well drawn characterisations of each of the main players, flipping between them in that totally enchanting "meanwhile, in Gotham city" fashion. There's enough corporate intrigue, maniacal boardroom posturing, gulfstream abuse and small men with big egos in these riveting 600 pages to knock even the Ewing family of Dallas into a cocked hat. OK, first - this is a truly ripping yarn.
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