Nobody Move
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- 4,99 €
Publisher Description
Jimmy Luntz owes money to a man called Juarez. Trouble is, Juarez isn't the most patient of men. And when he gets bored of waiting, he sends someone round to collect. Luntz doesn't actually plan to shoot the guy, but the way he sees it, it's shoot or be shot. Either way, though, Luntz is out of his league, and he knows it: nobody messes with Juarez -- or, at least, nobody messes with Juarez and lives to tell the tale. Against all the odds, however, it seems that somebody up there is looking out for Luntz, if only he can keep his cool.
A story of mistaken identity, blackmail and murder, of bent judges, wronged alcoholics and colostomy bags, Nobody Move is No Country for Old Men as written by Denis Johnson.
Praise for Denis Johnson's previous novel, Tree of Smoke, which won the US National Book Award 2007:
'A Catch-22 for our times' Alan Warner, Observer
'A heart-stopping reminder of what fiction can do' Sunday Telegraph
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
National Book Award winner Johnson (Tree of Smoke) goes lean and mean in this slick noir, originally serialized in Playboy last summer. Jimmy Luntz, a chain-smoking, fast-talking addictive gambler, is in the hole several grand to underworld bad dude Juarez, and he knows his kneecaps have a date with a tire iron when enforcer Gambol nabs him in Bakersfield, Calif. But perennial loser Jimmy gets a lucky break when he escapes, having shot Gambol in the leg and taken off with Gambol's cash-fat wallet. Soon enough, he meets alcoholic vixen Anita Desilvera. She's barreling toward oblivion, having been set up by her prosecutor husband and a corrupt judge in a $2.3 million swindle. As Jimmy and Anita hide out and plan a caper to get the millions, Gambol and Juarez track down Jimmy and learn of the big money at stake. Fates collide in the brutal last act, and, naturally, not everyone makes it out alive. With its crackling dialogue and mercilessly bleak worldview, this stark and darkly funny chronicle of a four-way race to the bottom is a testament to Johnson's sublime sympathy for lowlifes.
