"You're not the kind of guy who would be at a place like this at this time of the morning" ranks for me among the best first lines of all time. Books, movies, plays, you name it. I can't remember before or since reading a novel written in the second person and its done brilliantly and to great effect in this book. This novel is more or less the story of all wanna be writers who aren't really writing, who're stuck at jobs they're terrible at (pick any floor at any large company and you'll find at least one of these dudes in one of the cubicles), telling themselves that the life they're leading is simply the experience for their opus, their Trainspotting, their high Fidelity, when in fact the life of the writer that they fantasize about is just a distraction them from the precipice they face, in their jobs, in their relationships, in their need for their version of Bolivian marching powder.
It also addresses many of life's essential mysteries: Is a ferret a good pet? Why do we love trash news? (coma babies aren't my thing but I'm a sucker for English royalty gossip) What is the household dust mostly made of? How terrible do you have to be at your job before a company will actually fire you? (In Germany, being terrible at your job actually has little impact)
The book ripped down to its essense is that a writer needs to write. Otherwise, you're drinking and doing drugs. You're running after your old flames. You're stuck in a life that you will regret. You're chasing a dream which will always remain that. The story told in Bright Lights, Big City only works because of the book. The life lived without the book is a void.
Oh yeah: The movie's not bad either.
