Posh Bingo

On Tuesday night, Julian Barnes was awarded the 2011 Booker Prize for his novel A Sense of an Ending.


On Monday night, I went to see five of the shortlisted authors (there were actually six on the list but Barnes wasn't there) read from their works, talk about them, and then take questions from the floor (I do like that expression, as though one can 'take' a question as one takes tea or the newspapers). The event was hosted by Tom Sutcliffe, who is a journalist for, not least, the Guardian. The talk was at the Institute of Engineering and Technology, which I mention in particular because it is a fantastic venue. No microphone runners here! All the armrests have little flaps on them: lift them up and hey presto, a microphone. Wonderful. Only at the IET. Also of note is the fact the I met the publisher for the Granta title, The Sisters Brothers on the way in. He complimented me on my choice of bag (a Granta one, naturally) but unfortunately we didn't have time to chat and I didn't have a chance to ask him for a job later. If you're reading this: I was wearing the pretty green-with-sparkles-on cardigan, and I'm pretty sure you spotted me taking notes.

Carol Brich's Jamarach's Menagerie sounded fine, but there was no spark to it; she reminded me a lot of Jill Dawson reading Lucky Bunny a month ago ('The Book Stops Here' post, September). Patrick de Witt (The Sisters Brothers) was sexy and nonchalant and deadpan and aloof and I liked him, and the book, greatly.  Esi Edugyan was fine, but hardly remarkable; the same was true of Stephen Kelman (though his novel is, I think, a far greater one than hers). Finally, A D Miller was excellent. Thanks to him, I now know the meaning of 'snowdrop' in Russia: the term is used to describe a dead body that is buried under the snow and is found when the snow thaws. Only from a former foreign correspondent.

So the author bit was all fine, and then came the questions from the floor - hardly the best questions ever, but they were fine ('Have you read each other's books?' is hardly the cutting edge of culture). Thus ensued discussions of 'voice', first person/third person narrative, use of slang, authenticity, 'readability', cultural acculturation and mortality. This final part of the evening was by far the most exciting. And how long does it take to write a Booker-shortlisted novel? On average, two and a half years. Best get cracking.


My little piece above has been less than passionate. To be honest, the shortlisted titles were all so odd that I haven't really engaged with the prize at all this year. I found a first edition of the Julian Barnes at work an intend to buy it tomorrow. A fiscal relationship with the prize is probably the most sophisticated response I can manage. Well, thank fuck it's over for another year.