Mazzari's Inter on the March

On Saturday night, Rolando's leap said it all: the ecstatic Portuguese centre half springing onto the shoulders of Ricky Alvarez and Fredy Guarin to celebrate the goal which restored Inter Milan's three goal advantage over Hellas Verona. Inter are Champions League contenders, and enjoying every minute of the chase. Earlier in the week, club president Massimo Moratti had warned fans of the Nerazzurri not to "expect any signings like Bale", despite recent investment from an Indonesian consortium. On this evidence, such extravagant purchases do not seem particularly necessary.  

Elation: Inter celebrate their third goal against Hellas

An energetic Inter eventually ran out 4-2 winners over Serie A's newly promoted surprise package, a robust Hellas side which had won three on the bounce prior to their visit to the San Siro. The victory takes Walter Mazzari's side up to fourth in the league table, ahead of Fiorentina on goal difference. More startling, though, is the way in which Mazzari has exorcised the demons of last season. Under Andrea Stramaccioni, Inter finished the 2012-13 season in ninth place, hemorrhaging goals in the process - only bottom-placed Pescara conceded more than the Nerazzurri's 57. The bitter dispute over Wesley Sneijder's contract, meanwhile, seemed to disturb the harmony of the squad, leading to a string of listless performances.

This season, however, Inter look like a team determined to give their all in every match. The defence is still far from perfect, with Mazzarri's squad having shipped eight goals in their last four games, but Inter are beginning to attack down the flanks with the same menace Mazzarri's Napoli side used to display. In particular, the wing backs Yuto Nagatomo and Juan Jesus, who have started every game this season, are attacking threats when given a chance to break forward. Indeed, this season's Inter seems intent on pressing the opposition in a compact 3-4-2-1 formation, with club stalwart Esteban Cambiasso back at the heart of the midfield. Once possession is gained, the team typically looks to feed the pacy Rodrigo Palacio, who has five goals already this season, as quickly as possible.

Palacio has top-scored for the Nerazzurri

The formula has been working, too, with only runaway league leaders Roma able to defeat Mazzari's outfit. Even reigning champions Juventus were made to wait for a late equaliser from Arturo Vidal when they visited the San Siro, after Mauro Icardi had put Inter ahead. Indeed, Juve's own Giovanni Buffon was impressed by Inter, revealing that "they remind me of Juventus from two years ago". The veteran goalkeeper was referring to the season in which Juve rallied from successive seventh place finishes to storm to the Scudetto, with a young squad playing without the pressure of expectation - or the distraction of European football.

While their suspect defence renders the prospect of a sustained title challenge from the Nerazzuri unlikely, they can be expected to at least reinforce their squad in January, with media mogul Erick Thohir's Indonesian consortium providing significant investment. Mazzari is an excellent candidate to spend this windfall, having unearthed a number of gems for small transfer fees when manager of Napoli. The Livornese manager brought the little-known Ezequiel Lavezzi to the San Paolo for six million euros in 2007 and sold him to Paris St. Germain for 30 million five years later. Edinson Cavani, meanwhile, plundered 104 goals in 138 appearances for Napoli after Mazzarri spent 17 million euros to take the Uruguayan striker from Palermo.

Eye for a bargain: Walter Mazzari

As Inter's fans expect Mazzarri to wield the club's chequebook in the winter transfer window, the current squad are visibly fighting to keep their place in the new manager's rapidly evolving side. One player who has adapted surprisingly well to the manager's pressing game is Ricky Alvarez, the 22-year-old Argentinian trequartista who before this season looked slight of build and frail of mind, despite his obvious talent on the ball. This season's Alvarez, however, has been a whirling dervish between the lines of midfield and attack, charging down defenders and making dazzling dribbles with equal vigour. He was regal in the 7-0 rout of Sassuolo, while his assist against Juve typified his newfound energy: robbing Giogio Chiellini of possession before supplying a fine through ball for Icardi.

Transformed: Ricky Alvarez

Inter and Alvarez will have to maintain their fine form to compete for the Champions League. Italy's worsening UEFA coefficient means there are just three qualifiers from Serie A, with Juve and Roma the early pacesetters. A Gonzalo Higuain-inspired Napoli and Vincenzo Montella's fine Fiorentina side, along with Inter's bitter rivals Milan will also be more favored among bookmakers than the Nerazzurri to secure a place in European football's elite competition.

The mood, however, in the San Siro's Curva Nord has undergone a massive shift, with Mazzari's side shrugging off the lethargy that enveloped last season's campaign. For the last Italian club to win a continental trophy, good times might just be on the horizon once again.                  

The White Yeezus: A Review of Borrell 1

At the beginning of 'Cyrano Masochiste', the sixth track on his solo debut Borrell 1, Johnny Borrell wails "I am a masochist, you are a narcissist, ain't you glad I exist". He's absolutely right, of course, as the Razorlight frontman has crafted one of the most fascinating albums of the year. These 11 tracks, filled with the pomp and arrogance of a defiant loser, reveal a man struggling desperately to reclaim artistic and personal credibility. Much of the music is deeply flawed, and some of it is outright terrible, but the album's surprising ambition forms a revealing portrait of a brand of self-righteous angst unique to the male artist. The singer rails against the world, convinced that they are somehow overlooking his genius, and by the end of the album, you almost feel compelled to back him up.

Railing against the world: Johnny Borrell

That Borrell 1 makes for such a bizarrely invigorating listen is odd, given that Borrell himself has been exiled to France in the wake of a critical and commercial backlash. Razorlight, having started out as a passable indie-pop fourpiece, eventually morphed into an anaemic stadium-rock farce, right down to Borrell's own white catsuit. The sub-U2 dirge of 'America' became the band's shorthand, the critics' knives came out and Kirsten Dunst quickly abandoned the man who had once shepherded her to SXSW via motorbike. Worse still, Mercury Records took the entirely justifiable step of refusing to release the preposterously-titled Vertical Women LP, and two of Borrell's bandmates decided the time was right to flee the sinking ship.

Borrell himself fled to the south of France, where he took up with Zazou, a group of local musicians who style themselves similarly to Peep Show's Super Hans, right down to their purple zoot-suits. Their sax-heavy melodies, however, provide many of Borrell 1's more distinguished moments. 'Joshua Amrit', in particular, is an energetic number about leaving a lover to another man, with more than a hint of Graceland-era Paul Simon about it. 'Each and Every Road', meanwhile, is a ska-intoned romp which could be construed as an anti-drug anthem, were it not so gloriously stoned-sounding.

Borrell's dickhead charisma looms large over proceedings, however, and is both the best and worst thing about his solo debut. On 'Pan-European Supermodel Song', Borrell claims his own music is "genius", while the bafflingly enjoyable 'Wild Today' reveals that "my ex-girlfriend's in all the magazines, and the by-lines tell me she's still in love with me". 'Erotic Letter', meanwhile, concludes the album in a car crash of self-indulgence. But as with Kanye West on Yeezus, it is the artist's vanity and bombast which makes the album fascinating. You will listen intently for the next big affirmation of the singer's own profundity, sometimes failing to pay attention to the music surrounding the statements.

It should be stressed that Borrell 1 is not a good album. Songs which see Borrell trying to play it safe, such as 'Ladder To Your Bed', are particularly grating. However, there is a surprising absence of cynicism here: Borrell only sees the future, his rockstardom reinstated. When British music's hapless antihero comes out swinging, there is a charm to his fumbling grasp for greatness.

TWO STARS, BUT ESSENTIAL LISTENING         

Gomez's Goals Can Shatter Fiorentina's Glass Ceiling

Despite a campaign which saw La Viola finish just two points behind third place, and achieve their highest standing in Serie A since 2009-10, many fans of Fiorentina will have felt heartbroken on the final day of last season. With fifteen minutes of their home fixture against Pescara remaining, Fiorentina were 2-0 in front and headed for the Champions League, and only a two-goal comeback for Milan away to Siena could deny them. Inevitably, the Rossoneri were able to conjure their unlikely comeback via a dubious penalty from that famous final-day specialist Maro Balotelli, and Phillipe Mexes' close-range winner in the 87th minute.

Astute: Vincenzo Montella has overseen a renaissance in Florence

It was a harsh conclusion to the season for Vincenzo Montella's Fiorentina, who had lit up Serie A with a free-flowing brand of attacking football. Indeed, only eventual runners-up Napoli managed to score more frequently in the league. Montella, who was harshly dismissed by Roma's American owners after shepherding the Giallorossi to a sixth place finish in 2011-12, has built his brand of possession play around the midfield trio of Borja Valero, David Pizarro and Alberto Aquilani. While this collection of playmakers, operating without a typical enforcer, may seem lightweight, Fiorentina have largely managed to outfox and outmaneuver their domestic opponents in the middle of the park. Valero in particular proved a shrewd purchase at less than five million pounds, as the former West Brom midfielder has added surprising pace and bite to his already refined passing.
                             
Outside of this flamboyant threesome, Montella has added both grit and glamour to other areas of the team. Stefan Savic, who struggled to cope with the physicality of the English Premier League while at Manchester City, has shown his class and composure at centre half. The XXL-sized goalkeeping gloves of club icon Sebastien Frey, meanwhile, were finally filled by Emiliano Viviano, who arrived on loan from Palermo. Up front, meanwhile, Montenegrin trequartista Stevan Jovetic has top-scored, and attracted advances from Arsenal and Juventus. Praise too, should go to Serbian schemer Adem Ljajic, once almost of Manchester United, who has added mercurial flair from the wing.

Flamboyant: Adem Ljajic has been a threat on the wing

However, perhaps Fiorentina's most important addition in their hunt for Champion's League qualification came this week, with the £13.7 million purchase of Bayern Munich's Mario Gomez. The signing of the well-coiffed centre forward is a genuine coup for a club playing outside of Europe's top continental competition, and the German's goals may even be enough to fire La Viola into title contention. Goals are one thing that Gomez practically guarantees, having struck 138 times in just 236 senior appearances. However, with Bayern finding Mario Mandzukic's manic work-rate a better compliment to their Teutonic take on total football, Gomez was left surplus to requirements at the Allianz Arena.

Prolific: But Bayern chose to offload Gomez

Fiorentina, despite playing an up-tempo possession game similar to the European champions, can take heart in the fact that their new striker still managed to plunder 12 goals in 11 starts last season as the Bavarians romped to the treble. More encouragingly, while Gomez's approach play can occasionally lack polish, his personal trophy cabinet suggests that he makes up for this in sheer weight of goals. Indeed, the 28-year-old forward can point out that he contributed goals in double figures for each of his three Bundesliga winners' medals, including the 2006-07 title with an unfancied Stuttgart side. These goals come in a range of finishes, from precise headers to startling solo efforts.

This steady supply of goals means Fiorentina can still be considered serious challengers for the Champions League, and even dark horses for the Scudetto, despite Jovetic's seeming set to leave the Artemio Franchi in favour of Juventus. The midfield remains potent, while Montella will hope to partner Gomez with a fit-again Giuseppe Rossi in a chalk-and-cheese duo in attack. Montella's charges will also be encouraged by the prospect of 29-goal Napoli forward Edinson Cavani joining former team-mates such as Ezequiel Lavezzi at Paris Saint-Germain, thus depriving Gomez of his most convincing challenger for Serie A's golden boot. Napoli's vulnerability seems more genuine when considering new manager Rafael Benitez's previous failures at Inter. With this in mind, La Viola's supporters will be confident of a happier final day next season.            

Bielsa's Bilbao at a Crossroads

Fernando Llorente might be forgiven for wanting the season to be over already. Greeted by his own fans with boos, jeers, and worst of all, cries of "Spaniard" whenever he is substituted onto the field of play, Athletic Bilbao's centre forward must long to join his new team-mates in Turin. The 28-year-old centre forward, who is set to join Juventus on a free transfer, has been ostracised by the San Mames management ever since refusing to sign a new contract in the summer of 2012. Largely limited to appearances from the bench, and regularly told to train with the youth team, it has been a season of purgatory for the striker who fired his childhood team to the finals of the Europa League and the Copa del Rey last season.

Excluded: Fernando Llorente

Exiting the Basque Country along with Llorente will be central defender Fernando Amorebieta, who will end a lifelong association with the club when he completes his free transfer to Fulham. Amorebieta, who has made over 250 appearances for the senior side, is another player to have fallen out with club president Josu Urrutia after rejecting a contract offer. This steady loss of experienced players will concern Athletic's supporters, especially since the club's policy of only fielding players born in the greater Basque region means that it is difficult to find suitable replacements. Indeed, the club has been unable to spend the vast majority of the €40 million fee garnered by last summer's sale of Javi Martinez to Bayern Munich.

Perhaps the most startling indication of Athletic's current malaise, however, is the uncertainty surrounding the future of head coach Marcelo Bielsa. The 57-year-old Argentinean, hailed by everyone from Pep Guardiola to Craig Bellamy as one of the most progressive coaches in modern football, has not been offered a new contract, despite interest from clubs such as Napoli. Bielsa himself has indicated that he wants to stay, telling reporters that, "my position is only activated if the club has an interest in pursuing me... I could earn top money elsewhere - it is not about that for me".

Bielsa: On his way out?

While this delay in offering a new contract to such a renowned tactician and motivator is at first puzzling, closer inspection of Bielsa's tenure in Bilbao suggests that Athletic's board may be justified in considering a new direction. Bielsa arrived at San Mames amid high expectations, following his excellent spell in charge of the Chilean national team, and with a gifted young squad to work with. Joaquin Caparros' side had just finished sixth in La Liga, and had already secured the arrival of the prodigiously talented Ander Herrera from Real Zaragoza. Bielsa, with his famed 3-3-1-3 formation and a penchant for a high-tempo, pressing style, was seen as the man to take Athletic to the next level.

Two years on, with Athletic sitting twelfth in the league table and equidistant between the European spots and the relegation zone, the raw statistics suggest that Bielsa's project has taken the team backwards. Indeed, even while El Loco's team was storming to finals both in the cup and in Europe, there were cracks in the facade. Bielsa's notoriously intensive training regime, which aims to build the fitness necessary to sustain his teams' pressing style of defence, was openly critcised by players before morale-boosting victories over local rivals Osasuna and Real Sociedad, as well as THAT draw with Barcelona. The tactic of playing midfielders such as Oscar de Marcos in defence in order to facilitate smoother passing, meanwhile, contributed to some erratic performances at the back, as Athletic finished the 2011-12 season in tenth place, and with a negative goal difference.

Of course, these problems were shrugged off at the time: Athletic were playing dynamic, attacking football and putting teams as glamorous as Manchester United to the sword. It was only after the defeats to Athletico Madrid in the Europa League final and to Barcelona in the Copa del Rey that the tide began to turn against Bielsa. While there had been some concern over the interest being shown in players such as Llorente and Martinez by foreign clubs, it had been assumed that the atmosphere in the dressing room was united and positive. That assumption was shattered when an audio clip of Bielsa chastising his players in the aftermath of their 3-0 defeat to a Falcao-inspired Athletico Madrid was leaked onto the internet. The video went viral, and the defining soundbite of Athletic's tumultuous season was to become the Argentinean manager shouting, "You're allowed to lose - but you're not allowed to lose like that!".

Fiery: But have Bielsa's Basques burned out?

El Loco would continue to live up to his nickname during the club's pre-season. The coach fell out with Llorente over a transfer request, and more bizarrely came to blows with a contractor who had supposedly been working behind schedule on the renovation of the club's Lezama training complex, actions Bielsa would justify as a defence of the club's honour. While these occasional instances of rage can be passed off as Bielsa's passion overwhelming him, it is the stubborn insistence on leaving a fit Llorente on the bench which has really harmed Athletic this season. While Aritz Aduriz has performed well to take up the goalscoring burden with 18 goals in all competitions, the former Valencia striker lacks the physical presence to bring his teammates into play in the manner of Llorente.

Ironically, Llorente's recent cameos have been vital in allowing Athletic to pull away from the relegation zone with back-to-back wins. In successive matches, a fresh Llorente has come off the bench to score in 2-1 victories, games in which the rest of the side looks exhausted by such a physically demanding style of play. Despite the striker's unpopularity with the fans, Bielsa could have ensured a more successful second season if he had been willing to pair, or at least rotate, Aduriz and Llorente more frequently.

Perhaps Bielsa's best hope of securing his position for another season is the dearth of quality managers willing to replace him. The most frequently mentioned candidate is Valencia's Ernesto Valverde, who will be popular among the supporters after previous spells at San Mames as a player and a manager. However, his recent managerial pedigree is shaky, as he has ceded Valencia's "best of the rest" title to Athletico Madrid and may struggle to see off Real Sociedad for the final Champions League spot. Athletic B coach Jose Angel Ziganda, meanwhile, has been publicly backed by Bielsa to take over if the Argentinean manager departs.

Whoever takes the reins at Athletic next season will inherit a talented squad: club stalwarts such as Gorka Iraizoz and Andoni Iraola are complemented by young talents such as Herrera and Iker Muniain, while the 31-year-old Aduriz should supply a steady flow of goals for at least another season. However, there is a sense that this squad has come to a crossroads. The question remains whether to keep faith in the explosive, high-octane drama of the Bielsa era, or veer off in a new direction.        

Mao Conquered as Grimes' Empire Spreads

Grimes - Mao Livehouse, Shanghai

Claire Boucher, the 25-year-old Vancouver native behind Grimes, recently gave an interview in which she claimed "the Grimes thing is getting kind of out of hand... getting too big". The multi-instrumentalist also hit out at the industry figures who oversaw last year's mammoth tours of America and Europe, dubbing them "evil".

Grimes: Frustrated?

Any possible disaffection with the music industry is certainly well hidden, however, as Grimes arrives in Shanghai as part of the city's JUE Festival. Instead, the all-conquering Canadian songstress turns in a show rich in energy and technical flair. Tracks from last year's beguiling Oblivion are combined with older songs from Boucher's spell on Arbutus records, along with some intriguing new material, in a confident performance. This is more than enough to excite an enthusiastic, diverse crowd at the wonderfully-titled Mao Livehouse.

After a support set from Ami Dang, which seems to consist of a single delay pedal echoing the interminable pain of a migraine sufferer, Grimes takes the stage to rapturous applause. Opening number 'Symphonia IX (My Wait Is U)' stands out on Oblivion as a hypnotic testament to despair and obsession, and the song's brooding power allows Grimes to enrapture the audience from the outset.

Grimes: Dazzling

In the wake of this opener, other tracks from last year's 4AD debut are warmly received by a nearly-full Livehouse. Former single 'Genesis' is delivered with surprising force, with Boucher lurching maniacally side-to-side behind her arsenal of keyboards and synths. Crossover hit 'Oblivion' sparks obligatory moshpits, with the crowd spurred on by a handful of local dancers who take the stage.

However, Grimes is perhaps at her most impressive in the show's intimate moments. The looping vocals on 'Skin' betray a deep longing for connection, while 'Vowels = Space and Time' is transformed onstage into a slow-paced, claustrophobic heartbreaker. 'My Sister Says The Saddest Things', meanwhile, is a welcome throwback to Grimes' more oblique early work.

Boucher, in a move which suggests she is becoming more comfortable in the manic world of her musical alter-ego, concludes a fine performance by showcasing new material. The unnamed final song is a surging, three-minute blast of surprisingly violent electro-angst which reduces the front rows of the audience to a frenzy. Grimes stands back and nods her head in silent approval. Maybe 2012 was just the beginning.

FOUR STARS    

The Shanghai Derby, or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Shenxin

Upon seeing a yellow cockerel on a blue jersey, your mind may be flooded with fond memories of Gallic footballing genius. You will recall the surgical penalty-box precision of Michel Platini, the dazzling dribbles of a young Franck Ribery, or the silken touch of Zinedine Zidane. Be happy, dear reader, because you have never witnessed Shanghai Shenxin.

Platini: nothing to do with Shenxin

Shenxin recently adopted a blue kit, cockerels and all, as part of a rather radical shift in club identity. Having enjoyed eight moderately successful seasons in Jiangxi province as Nanchang Bayi Hengyuan Football Club, the club's directors decided to uproot the club some 450 miles to Shanghai. Wimbledon fans thought they had it bad. Not content with infuriating football fans in Nanchang, Shenxin managed to wind up traditional Shanghainese soccer powerhouse Shenhua FC by changing the colours of their jerseys to match Shenhua's own blue kits. Shenhua fans responded in kind by nicknaming the city's new team "the wandering cocks".

It was against this tumultuous backdrop that the first Shanghai derby of the season got underway. Still feeling the effects of St. Patrick's Day celebrations, your correspondent arrived at Shenxin's Yuanshen Stadium with only ten minutes to spare before the scheduled kick-off time. This being a Chinese sporting event, I had grossly underestimated the amount of time it would take to secure a genuine match ticket. I was informed by a number of supporters that the game had sold out, and the ticket office was indeed closed. After some haggling on the part of a more skilled Mandarin speaker than myself, we were able to get a touted ticket for 80 RMB (about eight pounds). When we finally took our seats, however, it was a surprise that the sold-out stadium was perhaps two thirds full.

Sold-out stadium with chain smokers in foreground

Even more frustrating than our seated position behind four middle-aged chain smokers was that fact that we had missed what turned out to be the game's only goal. Internet video highlights inform me that Michael Marrone, Shenxin's twice-capped Australian international, dwelt on the ball too long and presented Shenhua the chance to launch a swift counter-attack. Shenhua's Syrian forward Firas Al-Khatib did well to hold up play before sliding a pass to Patricio Toranzo, who supplied a neat finish. 1-0 to Shenhua.

This early goal set a pattern for the rest of the match to follow, with Shenxin's sloppy errors when in possession allowing Shenhua to break at pace. That these errors were forced by a defence marshaled by the 40-year-old Rolando Schiavi only highlights Shenxin's lack of potency in attack. Even more embarrassing for Shenxin was their profligacy from set pieces, with the crowd groaning as free kicks and corners were repeatedly walloped over the heads of attackers and out for throw-ins.

It was ironic, then, that the nearest Shenxin would come to an equaliser would be from a dead ball. Brazilian striker Kieza, who had hitherto done little, connected with a floated free kick to plant a firm header past Wang Delei in the Shenhua goal. The offside flag was raised, however, with replays suggesting a close but correct call. This is refreshing in China, where the standard of refereeing sometimes compares unfavourably with the British Sunday leagues.

The only other major refereeing call in a tense second half was more straightforward, as Shenxin's Xu Wen saw red after sliding in on Schiavi with the sort of two-footed horror lunge usually accompanied with a cry of "Keanoooo". Wen trudged off the pitch with the taunts of Shenhua fans, who made up the majority of the crowd despite playing away, ringing in his ears. In a slightly more amusing accompaniment to a chant which roughly translates as "Shenxin filthy cunt", a number of Shenhua's ultras also pelted the departing defender with rubber chickens thrown from the stands.

Shanghai Shenhua's "Blue Boys" ultras

Shenhua, while not particularly impressive on the night, always looked in control of the match and saw out the game with relative ease. Their fans will be impressed with Schiavi, who while possessing Davie Weir-class pace, nevertheless reads the game well and made a number of important challenges. Wang Delei looked assured in goal, while Al-Khatib looks to have added energy and guile to the forward line.

Shenxin, despite their derby-day defeat, can at least take solace in finding a new fan. While their relocation, complete with changing kit colours, represents everything wrong with modern football, I found the squad's collective ineptitude to be rather endearing. This team, which only escaped relegation from the Chinese top-flight due to Dalian Shide's financial implosion, frequently struggled to string four passes together against their local rivals. Their strikers are lightweight, their midfielders prosaic and their defenders blessed with goldfish attention spans, but it is Pudong's team. And as long as I reside on the East bank of the river, they shall have my support. The tainted memories of French footballing perfection are a small price to pay.      

A loveletter to Don DeLillo

Dear Don,

I remember when I first clapped eyes on you. It was one of those Sunday afternoons of humid drizzle and public transport and I was in Darlington waiting for someone or something. In Waterstones, I was scanning the rows of fiction, seeking out a new paperback to distract me from a degree in English literature. I spotted Underworld, 827 pages looming mid-shelf and mighty.

I picked it up, fingers stretching to feel all that weight in my right hand. The blurb was enticing, drawing me in with promises of 'gloriously symphonic storytelling' and a 'panoramic vision of America'. The subject matter, too, got me going: sports, stand-up comedy, AIDS and Vietnam. The myth of rebirth through violence. Then I saw the price: £13.99. Fuck that.

I tried to walk away. I took up with other writers, buried my desire beneath the lightweight novels of David Foster Wallace and Jonathan Franzen. They were cheap floozies, microwave meals when I needed a banquet. Satisfaction eluded me.

I bought Underworld eventually, after the longing grew too sharp to resist. I was floored by what I read. Even in the opening chapters, a reader can feel the novel moving through the gears, an unnerving momentum building. In the story's most affecting passages, particularly those set in the housing projects of New York, the richness of the prose can be unbearable. That such poetry, describing an urban netherworld ravaged by poverty and disease, can be sustained for such an extended period of time is shocking. More impressive, however, is the orchestral scope of the plot: dividing like a Pershing missile to touch upon different decades, continents, generations and genders. The novel transports us to a lost world of grand narratives and superpowers, moral certainties and nationwide paranoias. The Cold War is not so much recalled as replayed in flawless stereo.

While your other novels lack this same ambition, they nevertheless capture the spirit of the age with similar veracity. Mao II evokes the directionless mass hysteria of the early 1990s, dragging the reader from New York to Beirut via London in the process. Cosmopolis, published in 2003, manages to foresee the global financial crash from the backseat of an investment banker's limousine. White Noise, meanwhile, mocks the omnipresence of advertising, as Hitler Studies professor Jack Gladney's personal crisis is regularly interrupted to make room for television and radio commercials.

This conflict between the private and public realm is a recurring feature in many of your novels. Soren Kierkegaard encouraged us to 'Reveal the eternal darkness that broods deep inside you', and you frequently craft characters who struggle to suppress their ugliest instincts. That some of them do manage to uphold their mask of sanity instills your work with a strange kind of hope. We may all be pigs, but some of us at least care for our sows and piglets.

We need this hope now more than ever. We're in deep trouble: economic stagnation, political apathy, mass unemployment, Seth MacFarlane hosting the Academy Awards, Bret Easton Ellis' twitter account.

The world really needs a Don DeLillo novel in 2013.

I need a Don DeLillo novel in 2013.

Yours,
Thomas McMahon