I can't help but give the highest rating to London Fields for the masterful way it punched me around. MA must be the king cynic in the UK, for it is clear there are no heroes, or even decent blokes in his country. I larfed a lot but also I went to the back of the pub and silently cursed him for his misanthropy, because I nearly adopted it under his influence.

Here's an evening with Martin Amis: he scowls morosely into a tumbler full of scotch, sunken into a leather chair, occasionally raising his eyes to look at you with contempt. You know he's got you slated for an appearance as self-deluding idiot in his next one. Yet you admire him for it.

If you want to love characters, if you want them to succeed in their world, if you like to identify with their lives as invented by a fine novelist, well, there's Harry Potter.