Culture

Frederic Raphael was the first man to use a four-letter word in The Spectator: the work of his fellow playwright Stephen King-Hall, he wrote in 1957, made him ‘puke’. Frederic Raphael was the first man to use a four-letter word in The Spectator: the work of his fellow playwright Stephen King-Hall, he wrote in 1957, made him ‘puke’. Scorching dismissals and mordant discomforting truths have been flowing ever since from the novelist, Oscar-winning scriptwriter, playwright, classicist and critic, who will turn 80 later this year. Some of his most enduring work only began to appear in 2001, when Raphael published the earliest extracts from the working notebooks that he began compiling as a teenager.

Melanie McDonagh has written the Bookend column in this week's issue of the Spectator. Here it is for readers of this blog. In July, the world’s most famous restaurant, elBulli, closes, to reopen in 2014 as a ‘creative centre’. Rough luck on the million-odd people who try for one of 8,000 reservations a year. It’s also a blow for the eponymous young cooks of Lisa Abend’s The Sorcerer’s Apprentices, the 45 stagiaires who labour in Ferran Adria’s kitchen for a season in the hope of sharing in the magic. Ferran, you see, is no mere cook. With him, ‘hot turns into cold, sweet into savoury, solid into liquid or air’. The stagiaires have a dog’s life by this riveting account: tedious, repetitive work for no pay.

Jonathan Coe is surprised by his eminence. ‘I’m just a comic Agatha Christie,’ he says. Coe was at the Guardian last night in King’s Cross – the newspaper’s book club has been reading What A Carve Up, Coe’s satire of the Thatcher years. Coe understands the book’s continued popularity and relevance. ‘The political mood has not changed in that time, arguably it’s got worse.’ He welcomes the book’s success; but regrets that society has not rejected the apostles of greed and laments that even the Labour party now dallies with the filthy rich. Coe conceived of writing a political-satire-cum-social-panorama in the mid-eighties, but took several years to complete the project.

Tessa Hadley’s The London Train will feel very much at home in the Paddington branch of W.H. Smith. For like almost all of Dickens’ novels, The London Train involves a series of journeys to and from London. Unlike Dickens, however, Tessa Hadley chooses to subject her characters to repeated trips to South Wales - a part of the world that mostly escaped Dickens’ attention (a paucity of urchins, perhaps?). The London Train differs also from Dickens in that all these journeys add up to less than the sum of their parts. If Dickens’ novels weave new mythologies about how people live together in the modern world, Hadley’s loosely connected stories attempt a lower-key exploration of how even people who have shared a home for years can be very much alone.

The Arts Council (ACE) has not one ounce of sentiment. Faced with a tight spending settlement, ACE has withdrawn £111,000 funding from the Poetry Book Society (PBS), founded by T.S. Eliot to promote poetry. In consequence, the PBS is threatened with closure, along with the prestigious T.S. Eliot prize. This has inspired a furious reaction in the mainstream media and the blogosphere. A petition has been established and PBS board have written to the Times today threatening to challenge ACE’s decision. This follows separate interventions from 9 poets and Carol Ann Duffy, each expressing their concern and, in Duffy’s case, disgust that so much funding is to be withdrawn from such a 'worthy and influential organisation'.

Though not strictly a weekend literary supplement, the Flavorwire has 19 pictures of achingly sharp authors working at their typewriters. They include Tennessee Williams, John Cheevor, Slyvia Plath, Francoise Sagan and William Faulkner.   A.C. Grayling was on the Today programme this morning, debating his secular Bible, The Good Book, with the Canon Chancellor of St. Pauls. Grayling has also given an interview to Decca Aitkenhead in the Guardian, where, among other things, he expands on secular morality, spiritual understanding and the importance of language.    ‘He insists that his new book does not belong in the same canon as Dawkins's The God Delusion and Hitchens's God Is Not Great. "No, because it's not against religion.

Edward King has written the bookend column in this week's issue of the Spectator. Here it is for readers of this blog. When the Observer critic Philip French started writing on the cinema in the early 1960s, he once explained in an interview, books about film were a rarity. ‘Now I have three book-lined rooms dedicated just to the cinema, including 50 books on Hitchcock and 30 on film noir.’ I Found it at the Movies, a collection of essays and occasional writings about film first published from 1964 up to the present, is intended to ‘throw light’ on the times in which they were written and chart the shifting attitudes to film as entertainment and art. But it is surprising how little has changed.

The weather for the weekend looks bad, so usually a jaunt to Oxford, the dankest place on earth, would be ill advised. But this weekend is different. The undergraduates are long gone for Easter and the Sunday Times’ literary festival is in town from Saturday 2 April until Sunday 10th April. The headline speakers are King Abudullah of Jordan, Kazuo Ishiguro, A.C. Grayling, Michael Frayn, Karen Armstrong, David Starkey and Gilbert and George. The list of other speakers is equally impressive: Phillip Pullman, David Nicholls, David Lodge, Edna O’Brien, John Julius Norwich, P.D. James, Colin Dexter, Nigel Lawson, Prue Leith and Matthew Parris. Tickets are still available, so click here for more information.

Martin Amis is tired of London. He is emigrating to America again – this time for good, probably. In an interview with Ginny Dougary in last Saturday’s Times, Amis explained that his reasons are personal. There was a mournful tone to his answers, a sighing resignation that contrasts with the verve of those he gave at his zenith, such as these to the Paris Review. Amis may be a balding controversialist, whose chutzpah and cocksure vanity graze the self-regarding. But if he is through with Britain, then that is our funeral because we would have lost the most singular stylist of the post-war era. By his own admission, Amis is a ‘voice writer’. Plot, form and character are secondary to register.

The renowned Indian economist Amartya Sen probably isn’t used to hearing his writing described as ‘the logic of the clever school boy’ but, in India:A Portrait, this is Patrick French’s response to academic notions that don’t ring true. In his new book about the evolution of India since Independence, French amalgamates history, biography and reportage to create a dynamic and immediate commentary. He has no interest in applying scholarly statements to the state of modern India; his method is all about deducing information from the experiences he himself has had. ‘I don’t find theoretical writing very appealing’, said Patrick French during a conversation I had with him about his new book.

If you want to read the kind of tribute properly owing to the great children's author Diana Wynne Jones, who died on Saturday, you should probably go elsewhere. (You might start with Jenny Davidson, an American blogger, academic and children's writer who has a Wynne-Jonesian sensibility and a gift for conveying enthusiasm in print; Neil Gaiman, who needs less introduction, has also written movingly.) I just want to point to one paragraph in her obituaries which puts her in unusually direct contact with some distinguished predecessors: "When the second world war broke out Jones and her family were evacuated to the Lake District, eventually living in the house once inhabited by the Altounyan children, on whom Ransome had based his Swallows and Amazons series.

London has been the subject of more anthologies than Samuel Pepys had hot chambermaids. This is fitting, as an anthology’s appeal — unexpected juxtaposition — matches that of the capital itself. But it does mean that any new contender has to work hard to justify its publication. London has been the subject of more anthologies than Samuel Pepys had hot chambermaids. This is fitting, as an anthology’s appeal — unexpected juxtaposition — matches that of the capital itself. But it does mean that any new contender has to work hard to justify its publication. Irreverence is one possible route, and here the Blue Guide Literary Companion: London (Somerset Books, £7.