Those who follow literary prizes often cite the example of V S Naipaul, who once refused to anoint a first-prize winner on the grounds that no one was good enough.
Naipaul belongs to the School Austere, whose members believe that the only function of a literary prize is to reward excellence and to discourage the mediocre. Over the years, however, Booker judges have leaned towards the School Charitable, whose members believe that a literary prize should encourage those downtrodden souls we call “writers”.
This year’s Booker judges are clearly of the School Charitable; little else could explain the shortlist.
Omissions
Salman Rushdie, The Enchantress of Florence: Since Rushdie won the Booker of Bookers for the second time in the history of the prize for Midnight’s Children, most literary punters were expecting this omission. Besides, the general critical consensus was that Enchantress, despite its ambition, would not be counted among Rushdie’s masterpieces. No surprises here.
John Berger, From A to X: Though Berger has also won the Booker prize previously, From A to X is not one of his finest works, to put it politely. This epistolary novel takes the form of letters from A’ida to her fiancée Xavier, who is held in prison as a suspected terrorist. The bluntest review came from Sam Leith, who called it “bollocks” — not the most literary of epithets, but accurate nevertheless.
Mohammed Hanif, A Case of Exploding Mangoes: Many readers had hoped that Hanif’s exuberant and darkly funny first novel, about the assassination of General Zia, would make the cut. But though Hanif’s novel is hugely entertaining, it’s also uneven and not quite “literary” enough.
Joseph O’Neill, Netherland: This was a shocking, unforgiveable omission. Netherland begins by following the story of a couple, their young son, and their lives in the aftermath of 9/11 and segues into an exploration of the subculture of cricket teams in New York. This was easily one of the most polished and entertaining books of the year, and I can only assume the Booker judges thought it was doing well enough not to need the nudge that the shortlist can provide a new author.
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The shortlist
Amitav Ghosh, Sea of Poppies: The first in a planned trilogy, Sea of Poppies takes us into 1830s India and deep into the devastation caused by the opium trade. Ghosh planned this as a swashbuckling, epic, accessible read and though he currently has low odds, some feel that this might be his Booker year.
Aravind Adiga, White Tiger: Debut novelist Adiga’s White Tiger received mixed reviews in India, and much acclaim elsewhere. The form often jars — a driver turned successful business writes a series of letters to the Chinese premier in order to inform him about the “real India”. But Balram Halwai’s story is backed by Adiga’s flair for journalism.
Philip Hensher, The Northern Clemency: One of the new rules of the Booker appears to be that there must be a 700-page novel on the shortlist — excellent news for loquacious writers. Hensher’s Sheffield saga has been praised by some as an acute portrait of Thatcherite Britain, panned by others as a relentlessly interminable portrait of two families. The bookies give it an outside shot at the prize.
Sebastian Barry, The Secret Scripture: Barry’s considered the frontrunner for the prize, but that’s not why you should read him. The Secret Scripture draws you into the memories of Roseanne McNulty, who is living out her final days in a mental hospital, and the doctor who looks after her. Through her story and his, Barry draws an unforgettable portrait of Ireland, and of what happens to those on the margins in times of war.
Steve Toltz, A Fraction of the Whole: This 500-plus-page monster by a first-time novelist is uneven but entertaining. Toltz ostensibly sets out to follow the fortunes of a father-and-son pair, the Deans, but with chapter titles like ‘Burn, Baby, Burn: Arson and You’, this is a great read — though it does test the reader’s patience.
Linda Grant, The Clothes on Their Backs: “They change you from the outside in,” says Vivien Kovacs, the protagonist, and Grant’s novel was one of the nicer surprises on the Booker shortlist. Vivien’s story encompasses a broken marriage, the assimilation of her Hungarian family into Britain, and an uncle with an unpleasant history. Grant tells her tale with warmth, understanding and a quiet sense of humour. It’s a well-written book, but not an unforgettable one — still, well worth the reader’s time.
