Martin's War Against Reason
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First, let me say that there is much about this collection of (mostly) literary criticism that will amuse the average reader. Not many of us are above the guilty pleasure of seeing easy targets being taken out. Amis, the premier have-a-go merchant of the English book world, is quite good at pinning easy targets and he does so here with considerable gusto, casting his penetrating critical eye over such literary heavyweights as Michael Crichton and Thomas Harris. He also takes a look at a cheap Elvis biography and the very silly `90s bestseller Iron John. So far, so good.
He gives quite favourable reviews to works by the likes of Don De Lillo, Iris Murdoch, Philip Roth and Kurt Vonnegut, and spars with older brawlers such as Anthony Burgess and Norman Mailer. Fair enough.
There is a bit of sucking up to Saul Bellow, an unsubstantiated swipe at Samuel Beckett, and a cursory glance at Kafka. Ok then.
The central piece, however, concerns Joyce's Ulysses. Amis can't handle Ulysses, and he more or less admits as much. He also confesses Joyce's genius, but then proceeds to compare the great maverick to a "teacher's pet", dismissing his work as "not reader-friendly". (What type of reader does he mean? The Crichton reader? The tabloid newspaper reader?) He goes on to place Nabakov - yes, Nabakov - ahead of Joyce in the literary pile, a bit like placing Henry Mancini ahead of Mozart. It's all a little bit baffling, except of course when one considers how paralysing and envied a presence Joyce is for contemporary novelists of a certain ilk. As for Amis himself, I'd say the role of Salieri is a snug fit. Exeunt!
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Ere, its me again
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I've just looked up this book again, and i can't believe no-one has written a review since i did over two years ago! What was i talking about 'chapters of what we don't want'? Sorry Mr Amis if you ever get to read this, i liked it. I must have had a hangover or something.
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wake up English writers!
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Amis IS English literature right now. Fact. Nobody is covering as much ground as him,is more skilled with the craft,and still flying the flag of literary passion...could do without the Murdoch section,but still am encouraged to read this author I`ve tried to get into before...the bits about chess etc only pale because they are alongside such brilliant criticism. Rushing out to get all James Joyce,Don Delillo and Bellow`s `Augie March` due to his criticism. Hell,even Philip Larkin comes across as a genius. Sumptuous!
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sublime
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perhaps the funniest, most acutely perceptive book i've ever read. Amis is excellent on style, wide-ranging in scope (early on, we have the unforgettable depiction of the new man, nappy in one hand, pack of tarot cards in the other), and amusingly critical of his youthful self (he lambasted a new collection of Coleridge's work without bothering to thoroughly acquaint himself with its contents). i didn't agree with all of his 'findings'. while Amis makes an excellent case for the undeniable stylistic mastery of Bellow's 'The Adventures of Augie March', he doesn't acknowledge the rambling nature of the book, the great lists of characters that are wheeled on and off all the time so that the reader struggles to remember anyone but the narrator and his brother, the boring avuncular tone. overall - leaves other literary critics fumbling with their trainers in the starting blocks while he's already run the race, picked up the medal, and is taking his shower in the changing rooms.
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Scholarly, yet readable account of culture and literature
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Dubbed "Smarty Marty" years ago when his writing ability seemed in advance of his years, it would be good to think that the title has lost the mocking tone that it had previously. Martin Amis really is smart and appears to have read just about every book in - and out of - the Leavis canon of "Great Literature". He employs his wide range of analytical tools to review the obsessions of authors such as Bellow, Updike, Nabokov and Murdoch and in the process takes the reader on an extraordinary voyage of discovery. Highly recommended for anyone has the most remote interest in literature or popular culture.
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