In this novel of what went wrong in the Seventies, Amis is repeatedly obliged to revisit his own earlier fiction as a partial stranger, since in those early novels Amis was as much the celebrant as satirist of his own generation. Of course, that generation had all the obvious failings: vain, vicious, cruel, cowardly, etc. But at least (so Amis's line seemed at moments then to be) they weren't in thrall to some exploded, oldster set of values. If the rising generation was bad, that was because there was nothing better that one could authentically be. 

But as Amis returns to his earlier work in The Pregnant Widow, it seems that his stance is shifting. A few examples. Here is Keith Nearing preparing for a hot date:

At six o'clock he climbed out of a hot bath, did ten press-ups, and stepped into a cold shower. He shaved, and brushed his teeth and tongue. He clipped and filed his nails, upper and nether. Maintaining a stern expression, he blow-dried and — with formidably steady fingers — tonged his pubic hair.

And here, 37 years ago, is Charles Highway preparing for his own hot date in The Rachel Papers:

Press-ups, knee-bends, and further sexual callisthenics. Complete body-service (sorry about all this): pits clipped, toes manicured, pubic hair permed and styled, each tooth brushed, tongue scraped, nose pruned.

Sometimes one can hear the rhythm and timing of an earlier Amis riff now organising different words but in a similar dramatic situation. Here is Keith Nearing teasing Gloria on the subject of religion, and unable to stop himself from going just a bit too far:

"Tell me, Gloria, do you happen to believe in Father Christmas? No. Of course you don't. You grew out of it. Of course you did. You know, it's a pity Father Christmas isn't featured in your holy book. Because you could've grown out of scripture too. Yes, a great shame Santa wasn't at least foretold in the New Testament."