Posted on 7 June, 2023

Them Amis Boys

 

His ambition was to leave a shelf of books and them Amis boys feature heavily on mine, much read over the years. RIP with Kingers, Little Keith.

 

Kingsley was jealous of the eight feet Robert Graves could show of his own works on his shelves in Majorca, including translations into other languages no doubt but still beyond what the younger man could aspire to achieve. He was productive, nevertheless, and must somehow have installed the writing work ethic in his son, who did well enough in terms of production.

 

Content of both Amises’ work has become problematic. In submitting a first three chapters of what would eventually become Them Feltwell Boys to a C21 female agent I did not realise I would be condemning the novel by placing it on a fictional shelf between Martin’s Rachel Papers and Kingsley’s One Fat Englishman. My bad lack of research, I had not even realised those books are unlikely to be found on any bookshelf at present (unless Martin’s death provokes a restocking).

 

I reread Kingsley’s Ending Up and Martin’s Dead Babies (or Dark Secrets if you more prissily will) within the last few months, seeming to remember a similar spirit in the two works ending in bloodbaths of oldsters and youngsters respectively. They were not as funny as I remembered, but then what is at my age?

 

Kingsley thought Martin should have more sentences like ‘She crossed the room and poured a cup of coffee’ in his novels; Martin thought his dad’s could usefully have lost a few such. The definitive work comparing the two writers – which is what they best were – will not come from by me, busy on my own shelf, but if I live I will certainly read it.