Remembering Martin Amis

Reading the obituaries for Martin Amis really did take me back, to a time when I thought - quite a lot us thought, actually - that he could be the most exciting writer in the UK today. That was, admittedly, alongtme ago. He was always very male, brittle, combative, but briefly the energy and feel for language seemed briefly to make up for that, to make it matter a bit less. I can remember storing “Money” along with my favourite hardback novels, the select few I’d hang on to for the rest of my life. And then, in lockdown, came the time to put that to the test, and actually start reading it again. I didn’t take long. how n earth, I wondered, could I really have thought this was so special? When I compare how I feel now about Sarah Waters, Jennifer Egan, Jim Crace I’m just astonished that there was ever a time when I thought Amis deserved to be up there. Like others commenting on his death, I dare say I’ll happily go back to the memoirs and the collected essays, but I don’t see me re-reading a Martin Amis novel any time soon.