A novel investment: why it pays to pay attention to the Man Booker Prize

OK, I’ll admit it. I don’t like Margaret Atwood’s writing. In some circles, this is akin to saying you’re a devil worshipper who spends their weekends ensconced in a dungeon of pain with other ostracised members of the community. Yes, I know she’s a multi-award winning author. Yes, I’m aware she has sold millions of books. But I thought The Blind Assassin – for which she won the Booker Prize – was one of the dullest novels I’ve ever had the misfortune to read. I was willing it to end, much in the same way that I longed for Anna Karenina to fling herself under that train and put both me and her out of our misery. I learned some years back that denouncing a bestseller or criticising a so-called ‘classic’ writer is a risky business; conversations down the pub stop in their tracks, friends look at you askance, wondering if you’ve lost your mind.