Kingsley Amis

This has been my third attempt at 'Lucky Jim'. And this time I did manage to finish it, in the manner of someone who is obliged to finish a particularly irksome piece of homework: without enthusiasm or enjoyment.

My own university years came at the tail end of the period Amis depicts, so I do recognise some of the types described. Socially inept Dixon himself, the hapless Professor Welch, highly-strung Margaret - I've met them all. However, in this case, I didn't really believe in them. And I liked none of them, particularly the irritating and lazy Dixon. Unable to involve myself in his quest for yet another cigarette or pint, or identify with his terminal lazinesss, I just wanted him to get on with it and get us both to the end of the book.

There are wonderful images, such as the justly famous description of a hangover: 'His mouth had been used as a latrine by some small creature of the night, and then as its mausoleum. During the night, too, he’d somehow been on a cross-country run and then been expertly beaten up by a secret police. He felt bad.' But it was a high price to pay, ploughing through the book on the off-chance of meeting gems such as this. Not on my 'to-read-again' shelf.… (mehr)

It's hard not to admire a novel that fails to prove this particular thesis:

Dixon looked out of the side window, and his spirits rose at once at the sight of the darkened countryside moving past him. This ride, unlike most of the things that happened to him, was something he’d rather have than not have. He’d got something he wanted, and whatever the cost in future embarrassment he was ready to meet it. He reflected that the Arab proverb urging this kind of policy was incomplete: to "take what you want and pay for it" it should add "which is better than being forced to take what you don’t want and paying for that." It was one more argument to support his theory that nice things are nicer than nasty ones.… (mehr)