7 of 7 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
Superb final installment, December 31, 2008
Coda is a necessarily bleak book. The white noise of awareness of transient mortality that starts as a feint hum in youth and builds throughout age has now reached screaming point for Simon Gray, to the point where it could obliterate every other conscious thought - he has been diagnosed with terminal cancer, with months to live (he died last August).
Still, a tribute to the wit and courage of Gray, he doesn't hide away from the world and still tries as best as he can to engage with the everyday pleasures of life - a holiday in Crete, a Christening, the discovery of a new author - Sefan Zweig - at a time when he feels he must make every last book count.
Much of his life at this point is taken up with visits to doctors who Gray applies mischevous names - Morgan Morgan, Dr Rootle and so forth as they give him progressively bleak news about the state of his cancer. He much prefers the doctors who convey a broad human sympathy over those formulaic government employees with their tedious health warnings (Gray has smoked 60 a day for most of his life) and lack of vocation - "look at their opposition to Chadwick and his belief in drains, sewers and hygiene in the middle of the nineteenth century".
The wit and pithy observations of modern life are still there such as ruminations on how easy it would be for unemloyed yobs to heave bricks through the window onto diners in a West London restaurant; a hillarious episode where he encounters a female tramp, whose paramour has recently died, and he ends up buying a load of cheese he doesn't want merely to break a £20 note to give her some change; and a bittersweet exchange with Harold Pinter (now also dead) as the two elderly, cancer stricken men chortle over the memory of a cricket match from long ago, which Harold Pinter managed to single handedly lose for his side.
The passing of Simon Gray is emblematic of the passing of literary men of his generation (it is no coindidence that this generation was the last to receive a proper classical education in schools instead of the baleful 'skills' based education us teachers are now expected to deliver). He was a cast of mind, now vanishing, that was broad, witty, generous and formidably intelligent in its breadth. Now it is the turn of younger writers to take Gray's place as commentators on life, but it is hard to think of many who can match Gray for his broad minded, intelligent perceptions on the world.
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