December 5, 2011 by markstani
On a much-maligned Booker Prize shortlist, AD Miller’s Snowdrops (pub. Atlantic) was perhaps the most unfairly judged of all: critics scoffed at how Miller’s macho tale of modern Moscow could be rated so highly. In fact, few have written so richly of the city’s dark underbelly, nor the soulless existence of an ex-pat abroad. Dark, sexy and mysterious, Miller’s novel builds momentum as his narrator allows himself to become embroiled ever deeper in shady schemes. A guilty pleasure? Perhaps. But a great one, at that. Read the full review here.
Inside there was a dance floor with three podium dancers – two energetic and topless black girls, and in between them a male dwarf wearing a tiger stripe thong. Katya pointed up to the ceiling. Two naked girls, sprayed with gold to look like cherubs and with wings attached, were flapping above our heads. We headed for the bar. It had a glass floor, and underneath it there was an aquarium filled with sturgeon and a few forlorn sharks. There were a lot of priceless women and dangerous men.