Trust

by Hernan Diaz

In the end, he became a wealthy man playing the part of a wealthy man. That his circumstances coincided with his costume did not make him feel any better.

aviation,

so is Benjamin Rask modeling a little Howard Hughes?

His math treatise. Title. Summarize.

this is the second such "filler text to paste in actual response later, tktktk," which makes me wonder about this second volume...

It did not take long for him to become the public face of the business and steer it into an even more successful pathway. Details. At one of the many functions he now had to attend he was introduced to Grace Cox. Many believed her to be the biggest “catch” of her day. Some thought the same of Edward. No one was surprised, then, to see their first encounter develop into courtship. Their courtship quickly led to their engagement and then to their wedding. More about mother.

see, like this is just weird but it's a stylistic choice and idk why they're bundled together

The circumstances of their journey were rather peculiar.

at this point, I'm wondering if "Andrew Bevel" is a fictionalized Benjamin Rask, and if I'm getting too recursive.

the sagacity of Miss Marple.

if Andrew is writing this in the late 1930s, there is only one Miss Marple book published so far (though I guess there are short stories)

It is hard work to give money away. It requires a great deal of planning and strategizing. If not managed properly, philanthropy can both harm the giver and spoil the receiver. Expand. Generosity is the mother of ingratitude.

hmmmm I suppose it's not unexpected as a filthy capitalist but what a mean thing to say

This amicable relationship with the government started in 1922, when President Warren G. Harding summoned me and other businessmen to the White House to help him fulfill his campaign promise to bring prosperity to our people by putting “America First.”

welllllllll ok this feels deliberate

Women represented only 1.5 per cent of the dilettantish speculators at the beginning of the decade. At the end they neared 40 per cent. Could there have been a clearer indicator of the disaster to come? The descent from collective illusion to hysteria was only a matter of time. I knew it was my duty to do what I could to rectify this situation.

wowwww so is he blaming women for the great depression

But I can tell you why this book is a sensation: because it’s patently about my wife and me. And because it makes us look bad.”

It was my first time reading something that existed in a vague space between the intellectual and the emotional. Since that moment I have identified that ambiguous territory as the exclusive domain of literature.

The Great Gatsby merchandise for sale at the gift shop downstairs comes to mind. I feel no desire to indulge in the description of unattainable luxuries. Just like Vanner, I am disinclined to dwell on the opulence of the place. I am here for the documents. Nothing else.

“Thank you for not attempting a response. My job is about being right. Always. If I’m ever wrong, I must make use of all my means and resources to bend and align reality according to my mistake so that it ceases to be a mistake.” “I should be taking this down for your book.” “I can’t tell whether you’re being sarcastic or naïve. Either way, don’t make me regret hiring you.”

oh ok so Andrew Bevel IS an ass

yielded to what I thought, at the time, they all had in common: they all believed, without any sort of doubt, that they deserved to be heard, that their words ought to be heard, that the narratives of their faultless lives must be heard. They all had the same unwavering certainty my father had. And I understood that this was the certainty that Bevel wanted on the page.

MEN

And precisely because the image of her that comes forward in this scrapbook differs so drastically from the portrait offered by those two men, I feel this is my first glimpse of the real Mildred Bevel.

More than the mahogany panels, the cut-glass decanters, the embroidered upholstery and the capped, white-gloved driver on the other side of the partition, it was this strange paradox of being in private in public that felt so opulent—a feeling that was one with the illusion of suddenly having become untouchable and invulnerable, with the fantasy of being in total control of myself, of others and of the city as a whole.

“No, no, no, no.” Surprisingly, there was no anger or resentment in his voice; only grave concern. “When you give someone a knife you cut the ties with him.”

was wondering about this- we have the same superstition in Chinese culture.

Nuit sans fin

Night without end