On Mr. Amis

I’ve grown conflicted about Smarty. Has he changed, or have I?

I used to just plain love Smarty. I loved it all: His nastiness, his cruelty, his snobbery, his wit, and the fact that I found every single one of his novels fell apart in the final pages. I’d be reading along, chuckling nastily, and then suddenly, inevitably I’d lose the thread of the thing. Money was my favourite book for so long. And while I will always treasure my ragged SIGNED BY THE AUTHOR paperback edition, which Smarty autographed while wearing a gentle smile, I find the book just doesn’t hold up. It’s so 1980s. That’s disappointing.

I fear now, since 9/11, Smarty’s become a bit unhinged; like he’s following his drunken pal Hitchens down the sordid path of paranoid bigotry. I fear he may just be getting old.

I used to just plain love Smarty, and now I find myself enjoying hating him more than liking him.

And let’s not talk about Yellow Dog, shall we? (Crap.)

Today, in the Independent (independent.co.uk) Smarty answers e-mail questions from the great unwashed readership.

My fave question: Why are you such a snob?

Smarty answers these questions with his usual aplomb. He takes pains to respond like the gentleman he is, but the undertone is hostile, and not in a fun way.

Here’s another goodie:
“The phrase ‘horrorism’, which you invented to describe 9/11, is unintentionally hilarious. Have you got any more?
Yes, I have. Here's a good one (though I can hardly claim it as my own): the phrase is ‘fuck off’.”

Ha Ha. That answer is incomplete, but the part I’ve quoted is the best bit.

All this being said, I’ll probably buy his new book, in paperback...eventually.