All dressed up and nowhere to go - Malcolm Bradbury - Google книгиI was not an angry young man, perhaps, since to me the angry young men were all old, 10 years or so older than I was. But I was a niggling one, an uneasy figure struggling in my Englishness, fighting to get out. The British provinces had been swallowing me like an eiderdown; America seemed the great, good place. I left, a young Nottingham intellectual with five published articles to his credit, all in journals of absolutely no importance, and sailed to Florida on a freighter. From there, I took the bus to New York, and rode in the endless elevator up to the top of the Empire State building; below was the great metropolis, looking like a gigantic waffle-iron. Excitement grew; I took the ferry and sailed out to the Statue of Liberty, while fireboats sprayed me with jets of water; I wandered Macy's and bought nylon shirts, then a new invention that made you ping with static electricity when you put them on and off.
All Dressed Up and Nowhere To Go 7
Wonders of the New World
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