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My favourite books from many authors are often the early ones. They may not be the masterpieces that all those early ones aspired to and worked towards and they are not the darlings of the lit-crit world, or the subjects of admiring undergraduate dissertations. They're rough sometimes and they have flaws. They aren't the seven volumes and thousands of pages of esoteric perfection that is Proust's Temps Perdu. They aren't a final expression and culmination of a talent but what they have is an energy and raw freshness that often get lost along the authorial career path. So they may not receive universal acclaim and the plaudits of the most learned but they are often, in my amateur opinion, a darn sight more accessible and oh, so much more entertaining. But I think Time's Arrow gives the lie to my little theory - it's not an early book. Yet it feels like one - I don't think Amis had lost any of that freshness when he wrote it. I like the pyrotechnic way with words that he has. I like the dry wit, the nasty humour and the way Amis has of showing it off. He's not a modest writer by any means. And yes - the usual cliché - I think you do always want to turn the page.

Are you glad I didn't write this backwards?

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