All That Is, the last novel by the late James Salter has a very distinctive tempo. It is full of apparent non sequiturs, it ranges this way and that, it has a jaunty and choppy rhythm but always finds its centre. James Salter is a master of the sentence - his prose is lean like Hemingway's and rich and evocative like Fitzgerald's - he conjures moods and atmospheres in a few lines of simple dialogue. It is a great cosmopolitan and glamorous but patrician and understated New York novel.
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