BOOK OF THE DAY: One Fifth Avenueby Candace Bushnell reviewed by Niamh Greene
One Fifth Avenue, Candace Bushnell, Little, Brown 469pp, £12.99
CANDACE BUSHNELL'S Sex and the Citywas a pop-culture phenomenon that famously explored the complicated lives of four feisty female friends searching for love, happiness and the perfect pair of Manolos in Manhattan.
Now, just when you thought nothing new could possibly be said about the Big Apple, Bushnell is back to take an altogether more grown up look at wealthy New York society, when the unthinkable happens.
No, Carrie Bradshaw doesn't dump Mr Big or develop a passion for hempwear - new money clashes with old.
Bushnell has been feted as the philosopher queen of the social scene, and in One Fifth Avenueshe explores the philosophically charged chestnut that money can't buy you happiness - not even if you can afford Pratesi sheets and obscure art.
A depressing thought, perhaps, for those of us who'd happily try out the lifestyle of the rich and famous, just to make sure we couldn't disprove the notion.
But it's a valuable lesson and one that Bushnell teaches brilliantly as, in all sorts of weird and wonderful ways, she shows that it's the striving for self-realisation that really matters - not power, social standing or a handcrafted walk-in wardrobe crammed with glamorous designer creations.
The stage for this modern comedy of manners is the art deco building One Fifth Avenue - a one-of-a-kind prestigious address where the residents are left reeling after the death of the art-patron doyenne of the building means that one of the grandest apartments in Manhattan comes unexpectedly on the market.
In a city where real estate is the real Mr Big, that means Big Trouble.
Carrie wannabes who rush to read this smart new offering by Bushnell will find less talk of frocks and cosmopolitan cocktails than they may expect but, as ever, Bushnell's mixed bag of characters are sharply drawn and wickedly observed.
In a few deft strokes, Bushnell paints head of the board Mindy Gooch as a deliciously bitter and twisted character with a chip on her shoulder the size of Manhattan itself.
Then, with a fiendish flourish, she expertly depicts Mindy's husband James as a weak and impotent writer who feels perpetually on the edge of failure.
Perhaps Bushnell's greatest gift is her ability to weave dysfunction upon fabulous dysfunction.
Amusing, insightful and mercilessly witty, her astute social observations jostle for space on almost every page, nudging aside sly jibes at the literary and media establishments that are so juicy they make you squirm with pleasure.
There's "nice" (ie not that nice) gossip columnist Enid Merle who lives next door to her novelist nephew Philip.
A decade earlier Philip won the coveted Pulitzer Prize but then only went and wasted all his artistic talent by going commercial. Tut,tut.
Then there's Philip's former lover, Hollywood actress Schiffer Diamond, who's back to reclaim her apartment at One Fifth and record a TV show - hilariously about a mother superior who leaves the church to edit a woman's magazine.
Bushnell's depiction of spoiled gold-digger Lola Fabrikant from Atlanta is one of her keenest. A poster child for bad values, Lola is a disturbing mix of cut-throat ambition and touching naïvetéwho'll stop at nothing to claw her way to the top of the New York heap.
In a master stroke of chuckle-inducing self-reference by Bushnell, Lola has watched every single episode of Sex and the Cityat least a hundred times.
Chockful of the wry analysis of the human condition that has drawn comparison to both Jane Austen and Edith Wharton, Bushnell's sharp eye and gift for tapping into the zeitgeist are gloriously abundant in One Fifth Avenue- ensuring that her status as an acclaimed social commentator remains intact.
Now all we have to do is wait for the screen adaptation....
Niamh Greene's Confessions of a Demented Housewife: The Celebrity Year, published by Penguin, is out now