I’m a big fan of Martin Amis, which is going against the grain since he has never been the critic’s favourite. His books are always unique in style and plot, with prose so true to life you feel physical pangs of recognition. Not only that but they are littered with a profusion of words that language-lovers revel in; words one rarely sees in print these days, and one feels a sense of gratitude to read a book where the full spectrum of the English language has been made use of.

From the perspective of such a fawning fan then, I regret to say that London Fields was not my favourite of his works.

Nicola is a beautiful, composed, femme-fatale who has a sixth sense for what will happen next. When she walks into a London pub one day she knows she has seen the man who is going to kill her. Narrator Sam is a dying author who immortalises her story as his final work to be published posthumously; while the two protagonists are Keith – council-estate scumbag, philandering swindler, and wannabe TV darts star; and Guy – tall, posh, hapless dreamboat with a terminal lack of charisma. To Keith, Nicola is a high-class temptress, leading him on with dirty videos; to Guy she is a naive virgin, fond of poetry and literature; and to Sam she is herself; a beautiful woman on the verge of death, puppeteering the players in her final drama, until the final conclusion.

The main problem is that is just takes too long to get to any conclusion. There is simply too much of this book. The prose is at times staccato, at times rambling and unintelligible, like a stream of consciousness unreined. We are supposed to join Amis on this wild journey but since it makes no sense it’s tempting to skip ahead, and he has often been criticised for prioritising style over substance; words over plot. The book does manage to keep one well-executed surprise in store but it too little too late. One small gem does not elevate the book to crowning glory.

In context London Fields, Amis’s sixth book, was written during Thatchers ’80s reign which witnessed the fade of England’s majestic glory and the rise of sex and capitalism. Keith and Guy represent opposing sides of the growing class gap, and the public fear of both global warming and of Conservative proposal to install nuclear power facilities ostensibly to halt global warming but in fact to create nuclear weapons, forms a hazy backdrop to the plot. Amis has always been known for his bristling anger and explicit portrayal of and preoccupation with sex, and this his longest book, published on his career ascent, probably represents some of his most vehement work. It is probably advisable therefore to read this with reference to the historical context in which it now is placed, in order to get the best from it.

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