Culture

What a shame the Christmas literary recommends season is over: otherwise I would have loved to draw this to your attention as quite the funniest book of the year. In The Reactionary Mind political author Corey Robin pretends to analyse the psychopathology which drives conservatives to think and act the way they do. I say "pretends" because obviously the whole thing is a sustained exercise in hilarious, spot-on pastiche of just how shrill, absurd and ludicrous the liberal-left can be when it tries too hard to be clever.

Sir Salman Rushdie has been in the news this week, after his proposed appearance at the Jaipur Literary Festival elicited criticism from what the Guardian described as an ‘influential conservative Indian Muslim cleric’, called Maulana Abul Qasim Nomani. A little over a year ago, Rushdie appeared on American TV (above) and said that the world had moved on from furores and fatwahs caused by The Satanic Verses. Now people can read it as a novel, he said, as it was intended. Rushdie is apparently putting the finishing touches to his memoirs, which will be published later this year. It will be interesting to see how much space Rushdie devotes to the controversy, and how he regards it within the context of his life and writing as a whole.

There has been much furore this afternoon about the bookshop formerly known as Waterstone’s. The company has decided to drop the apostrophe from its name to make it more ‘versatile and practical’ according to its managing director, James Daunt. The company is also restoring its old branding. The suspicion is that apostrophes are not digital friendly. Waterstones, as we must now call it, is turning its attention to the digital world and this latest change is part of a concerted online push.

A flurry of new reviews of Stephen Kelman’s Pigeon English has landed in recent days, coinciding with a new edition of the book. Kelman’s debut divides opinion. Lewis Jones thinks it ‘miraculous’. Catherine Nixey thinks (£) that it’s ‘exuberant’ but ‘miss-steps’ occasionally. And I found that a pigeon is a less than engaging narrator, even if its appearances are sparse. Reading the book made me recall the story of Kingsley Amis throwing a copy of his son Martin’s book, Money, across the room in frustration, and I wondered how the old devil might have dispatched of Kelman’s opus. All of which brings me to this piece by Alex Gallix about the death of literature.

You may remember that 2012 will see the launch of a new literary award. On Tuesday 7th February, the Coach and Horses in Soho will host our friends The Omnivore's Hatchet Job of the Year. The aim is to reinvigorate literary criticism by rewarding the 'angriest, funniest, most trenchant' book review of 2011. The aim is not to celebrate malice, but to challenge the deference that pollutes so much of Britain's cultural debate.

When I consider how my light is spent Ere half my days in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide, Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, least he returning chide, Doth God exact day-labour, light denied, I fondly ask; But patience to prevent That murmur, soon replies; God doth not need Either man’s work or his own gifts; who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best; his state Is kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed And post o’er land and ocean without rest: They also serve who only stand and wait. This sonnet begins as a private confession.