21 November 2016
Twenty years ago, I published a novel called English Settlement. It attracted what is known in the trade as "mixed reviews", which is to say that a handful of people remarked that clearly a new star had risen in the cultural firmament, while a rather larger number declared themselves surprised that a fine old firm like Chatto & Windus should waste its money on such talentless dreck. Absolute nadir among the detractors was plumbed by the gallant ornament of the Sunday Times's books section - a chap named Stephen Amidon who concluded, after much incidental savagery, that the book was "about as much use as a one-legged man in a butt-kicking competition".
