Ian McEwan's early short story collections were bracingly nasty; The Cement Garden is pretty pungent. A Child in Time is an affecting portrait of a mutilated present, a society becoming very much like the one we live in now. But then there was Black Dogs, which did that icky liberal thing of using historical atrocity as a plot device for talking about Big Themes of evil, love, redemption etc in ways that were much less profound than the author imagined, and couldn't really support the weight of the Big Historical Horror bearing down upon them. After that he went from bad to worse.
Graham Swift, once considered a peer of McEwan's, has held up rather better I think.
I tried reading a novel of Will Self's once and was genuinely surprised at how bad the writing was, having enjoyed his appearances on Shooting Stars.
Graham Swift, once considered a peer of McEwan's, has held up rather better I think.
I tried reading a novel of Will Self's once and was genuinely surprised at how bad the writing was, having enjoyed his appearances on Shooting Stars.