Recently finished re-reading Colin Harrison's stark and savagely beautiful Manhattan Nocturne for what must be the fifth or sixth time.
The novel told through the first-person narration of Manhattan investigative-reporter-turned-news-colum
She understood by now that she was attracted to men who were in some way excessive. The bars and health clubs and office buildings were filled with fine and boring men, and their reasonableness and good humor held no attraction for her. They were interested in mutual funds and pro football and they were too witty on the first date and too polite in bed. The described themselves as political, but didn't understand the streets. They seemed mass-produced, they exhibited the impotent irony of their generation, they were Television. She found men on the margin more interesting, had more at risk, were forced to live with greater consciousness.