I’m bored of Martin Amis

To say that Martin Amis exemplifies the elevation of style over substance is like saying that Donald Trump is a bit vulgar. An author who makes his name by elevating style over substance so dramatically, I suggest, cannot come back from it. It is a one-way act, like losing your virginity. In recent years, Amis has tried to balance style and substance, to offer wintry-wise reflection amid the verbal fireworks. Reviews of his latest book, Inside Story, suggest that the effort continues. But it doesn’t work. It’s like trying to unsell your soul to the devil.

I derived much pleasure from him as a teenager. What a thrill, to find a form of literature so streetwise! Like many other bookish lads, I idolised, for a brief phase, this fearless punkish aesthete with his hyperactive hyperbolic gift. In my twenties, I was still quite impressed, though Nabokov began to seem the real deal when it came to style-over-substance-elevation.