suspect it’s difficult for anyone under the age of … what? 30? 40? to comprehend the thrall Martin Amis exerted on writers now in their 50s or above. One might have to insert a qualifying “male” here. Or go the other way, stop generalising and say how thoroughly he had me in his thrall throughout the 1980s and 90s. There were writers I admired more but he was more fun to read than all of them put together. I sat there aghast
