Gill promotion
Sir: Congratulations on luring the famous A.A. Gill to the pages of your magazine ('Why they hate A.A. Gill', 14 September). Thanks to you, at least 55,475 more people have now heard of this man (calculation based on your own circulation figures and assuming, I think fairly, that no Spectator reader also reads the Sunday Times).
In his article (over 1,000 words long, this in addition to his weekly 5,000 words for the Sunday Times) he demonstrates the skills that his readers have come to know. It takes a special kind of critic 'of food, televi- sion and Welsh people' (I) to peer deeper than most into the murky motives of book reviewers. Faced with a conundrum 'Why were half a dozen reviewers in publi- cations as apparently diverse as the New Statesman and the Daily Telegraph unani- mous in slating the new novel by A.A. Gill?' — it would be easy (too easy) to answer, 'because the book has little or no merit'. How much harder to devise a sub- tler but more plausible explanation in which all the reviewers are motivated to lie about the book by collective envy for A.A. Gill's great fame (remember — 5,000 words a week).
And this is just the start of the article! Gill's last word (until next week, anyway) is to declare, 'There is no difference between novels and journalism.' No difference in ambition or scope. No difference in agenda or register. To support his assertion, A.A. Gill mentions the names of three revered joumalists of the past: Mark Twain, Kipling and Saki. Who now reads their imaginative works? The list could be longer of famous journalists who also dabbled in fiction: Dr Johnson, Charles Dickens and, in our own time, Martin Amis. Yes, A.A. Gill is in good company. Welcome, Spectator read- ers, to his world.
Richard Battye
The Mill House, 20 Dinham, Ludlow
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