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Even worse is the consensus on Amis as a person. He's Keith Talent. He's a very bad guy. In Larkin's case, the vicious ad hominem attacks began after he died. In Amis's case, personal abuse already passes for legitimate literary criticism. Critics have accused Amis of racism, misogyny and egotism. He's vain (the teeth), and greedy (the £500,000 advance, the Manchester University salary). He's "ageist", a shameless self-promoter and "past HIS sell-by date" (the euthanasia drama). He sprouts "arrogant twaddle" (the children's writing melee). Professor Terry Eagleton famously shot a rocket at the House of Amis: "[Kingsley Amis was] a racist, anti-Semitic boor, a drink-sodden, self-hating reviler of women, gays and liberals." Eagleton added that: "Amis fils has clearly learnt more from him than how to turn a shapely phrase."

But the bores don't need to put up with him for much longer, because Martin Amis is moving to New York. Amis is leaving for his family. His wife, the writer Isabel Fonseca, wants to live closer to her parents. Nonetheless, there was speculation in the papers recently that he's fed up with hostile reviews of his books and intrusive reporting about his life. Amis's editor at Jonathan Cape, Dan Franklin, told The Sunday Times in September that: "Martin plans to go to live in New York mainly because of Isabel, but I would also not blame him for leaving because of the way the media treats him and looks at the minutiae of his personal life. In America he would not, and does not, get that close personal scrutiny." The bores are claiming a victory in hounding "Wounded Amis" out of London.

They're also booing Amis because he's trash-talking England. As I write, he's reportedly called the royal family "philistines" in an interview with a French magazine. Last month he said that he's embarrassed the English "don't see that England doesn't matter in the world". England is "an old drunk with airs of grandeur". It's the "land of Shakespeare", where everybody "wants to know about Jordan". Katie Price was once described by Amis as "two bags of silicone", and he's recommended readers think of her when they meet a character called Threnody in his next novel. The novel, tentatively due for publication next February, was initially titled State of England. A.N. Wilson, who sang in the cowardly choir that abused Larkin after the poet's death — he called him a "kind of petty-bourgeois fascist" and "nutcase" — responded to all this good news in the Daily Mail on Monday:

The reality is that the former enfant terrible of English novelists has turned into a strange, purple-faced parody of his father — only without the back catalogue of great books that Kingsley so impressively notched up. [...] Increasingly, his public utterances are more and more bizarre. He announced he will soon be leaving Britain to live in the US, and maybe that is just as well. Most of us have had enough of him — his mean-minded denunciations of the poor old Queen and her grandson's wedding being the final straw.

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Protoplasmtango
May 3rd, 2011
1:05 PM
It became impossible to take M Amis seriously after the dead weight of Einstein's Monsters and London Fields. Largely because the words 'the weather's been strange lately' became a private joke between me and my partner. The Author as Amateur Meteorologist is a bit silly.

nerl l johnson
April 29th, 2011
4:04 AM
Yes you lose marks for the dead bores repetitions but a nice bit of work nevertheless; staunch support for good old Martin: a man who tells it like he thinks it is.

Adrian Michael Kelly
April 27th, 2011
5:04 PM
What crude and condescending thinking: Amis on the one hand, "dead bores" on the other. Come *on*. I am a longtime admirer and advocate of Amis's work, including Yellow Dog, The Information, and The Second Plane, but apart from its occasionally funny set pieces and sporadic brilliance-flashes, The Pregnant Widow was *shockingly*--and sadly--inept and unfunny. I hope I am wrong in seeing in that cobbled, motley assemblage the signs of talent-death that Amis saw in late Nabokov.

Anonymous
April 27th, 2011
5:04 PM
Who the hell is Katie Price?

M Gunnison
April 27th, 2011
1:04 AM
Welcome to America, Mr. Amis. We are very glad to have you.

Robert Speirs
April 26th, 2011
4:04 PM
It is "literature" like this that keeps me to my resolution of never reading any fiction written after the year 1900.

kristof
April 26th, 2011
3:04 PM
i see that good old english pomposity has disposed of another solid citizen. some of these posts reek of left wing bile. sad really and its why england no longer rates. even in australia.

Don Kenner
April 26th, 2011
1:04 PM
First Niall Ferguson and now Martin Amis? Good news for America! You can keep that irrelevant Marxist Nancy-boy Terry Eagleton and that talentless bore A. N. Wilson (which religion is Wilson this week? Muslim?). I just read that London is the hub of Al-Qaeda's global terror network. You know, the one that Eagleton and Wilson want you to ignore. Good luck with that.

Sean Matthews
April 26th, 2011
9:04 AM
Amis is an interesting case, but also, indisputably, a not very attractive human being. I remember reading Money and finding it very funny; later I read it again and thought it was clever but misanthropically nasty. I suspect that the later is probably more in line with posterity. A way a with words isn't quite enough. Larkin will have no problems with posterity. Amis will (as will Clive James and Paul Berman for that matter).

Nicholas Liu
April 26th, 2011
4:04 AM
An odd attitude to take. Sure, "only the literature matters"--when we're discussing the literature. When we discuss Amis the man, that privilege falls away. Literature, even (or especially) great literature, stands apart from the people who create it. It isn't a shield. Anyway, it was good of you to admit that "You can't describe real literary talent either", though it might have been more honest to say "I can't describe real literary talent". It's strange how a defense predicated entirely on the claim that Amis is simply too great a writer to be criticised fails entirely to make a case for his greatness. Calling his critics "dead bores" over and over and over again does not a case make, though it does serve as an instructive lesson in unintended irony. Perhaps you'll say that no such case can be made, that all one can do is point and say "Here stands a great writer"--but why, then, should this essay exist? If you really believe that an argument for a writer's literary merit can't be articulated, take Wittgenstein's advice and remain silent.

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