I bought Zachary Leader’s gargantuan biography of Kingsley Amis on the day of its publication last year, and read it with intense interest. So intense, in fact, that I even attended a nerdy, bad-hair event at the London Review Bookshop in Bloomsbury to hear Leader in conversation with Kingsley’s son, Martin. I had already devoured Leader’s equally gargantuan edition of Amis’s letters back in 2000, and Martin’s memoir, Experience, which appeared in the same year.
Why was I was going to this trouble? I admire many of Kingsley Amis’s novels, but I haven’t read one for years. His private life…
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