László swallowed. It would be sensible now to be afraid, but what he felt was excitement, the need not to let the moment be squandered. He raised his fingers to the brass of the handle, and as he touched it there came, like a message flung from out of the remoteness of his boyhood, the name of the English soccer captain in the match at Wembley. Billy Wright! He almost laughed aloud at such inconsequence, but it heartened him, and he grinned fiercely at his shade in the varnish of the door panel. Three breaths, he thought. Just three more breaths. Then I’ll go in and save my friend.

Acknowledgements

I owe a debt of gratitude to the following people, each of whom contributed in some way to the writing of this book. Katie Collins, who was my first encourager. Debbie Moggach, who introduced me to her Hungarian friends, in particular Sándor and Betty Reisner. Rachael Jarrett, together with Alison and Sam Guglani, whose expertise in the field of cancer care was invaluable. Adam Bohr who guided me in Budapest. Misha Glenny (courtesy of Kirsty Lang) who answered my Balkan questions. Ali ‘the cat’ Miller and Marcie ‘po-meister’ Katz in Paris. Sparkle Hayter in New York. Raina Chamberlain in San Francisco. Laurence Laluyaux in London. My parents and step-parents, who recalled on demand the Britain of the 1950s. My sister Emma, loyal to a fault. My editor, Carole Welch, who made this a better book than it could possibly have been without her. And Simon Trewin, my agent: always a good man to have in your corner. Any factual errors are, of course, the sole responsibility of the author.

Andrew Miller, London 2001

Reading Group Guide

1. Why has Miller chosen to combine the stories of the Valentines and László Lázár in one novel? Do you think they work together, despite the fact that the two plots are almost unconnected? How are they connected thematically?

2. Appropriately enough, Oxygen is filled with imagery of air and breath, from Larry inhaling his asthmatic daughter’s breath at the end of the prologue (5) to László’s “three more breaths” before he steps toward his fate in the novel’s last line. How does this imagery relate to the larger themes of the novel: mortality, regret, the disappointment of unfulfilled lives?

3. The two threads of the novel both end with the characters about to perform a final, redemptive action: Alec headed to his mother’s room, seemingly to give her the death pill and end her suffering, László about to take action to save a friend as he had failed to do when he was young. We don’t see how the stories turn out; we don’t know if Alec does give his mother the pill, nor do we find out whether László saves Franklin’s life or loses his own.