Another Booker prize winner from the early days of the prize, 1974. This smallish and subtle novel is on the one hand, a fairly good novel, but also one that I am not certain is worthwhile of the prize. Maybe for the year, but it oddly split the prize with Nadine Gordimer’s The Conservationist, which is a weightier and more serious novel, but also one I liked less. Part of my thinking with these early days of prizes is that we have amazingly good writers […]
Everybody judges from the point of view of his own inadequacy.
Holiday by Stanley Middleton
