The entertainment business is a world of smoke and mirrors, in which nothing is ever really as it seems.
These lines actually appear in the Kirkus review: "Containing elements of the 007 and Jason Bourne sagas, Graham Greene's insular spy novels, William Gibson's cyber thrillers, TV's Burn Notice and Mad magazine's classic Spy vs. Spy comic strip, this book is a narrative hall of mirrors in which nothing and no one are as they seem and emotion is a perilous thing to have".
Yet for all the tension of Teddy's plight, and despite our suspicions that he may not be the sanest soul around ("Pull yourself together," he says into a mirror in the opening shot), nothing really seems to be at stake here.
And that's without counting the hordes of passengers on board who, unlike Yours Truly, welcome its army of photographers and its circus of posing 'animals' with open arms, coughing up hundreds for their snapshots - disembarking, re-embarking, eating, dancing, swimming - when they can simply look at themselves in the mirror for nothing.
("I don't like to look in the mirror, there's nothing there").
One day Seepersad looked in the mirror and saw nothing, as though he had vanished down a cultural fault-line.
The driver tapped the meter — forty-one euros — and gave Mallon a pale stare in the mirror, but said nothing.
Even though beauty is much, much more than that image in the mirror, there's nothing wrong with doing what you can to slow the aging process.
What appears against mirror qua nothing is just an object.
I look in the rear-view mirror and see nothing but blackness.
