Author eats words over literary prize

EIGHT years ago, during an interview with Howard Jacobson, I asked the British author how he felt about his nomination for the Man Booker Prize. The former University of Sydney lecturer clearly wasn’t enthralled at the prospect of scooping the prestigious literary award for his novel Who’s Sorry Now.

“A man should be ashamed to win the Booker Prize,” he sneered. “Given who’s won it, it’s such appalling company. I can think of four or five books that have won the Booker in the past 20 years that were so abominable they should never have been published, let alone win a prize.”

Eight years on, one suspects the author may be a little less dismissive of the award, not to mention the quality of the books that have won it.

Earlier this month, his novel, The Finkler Question, joined the illustrious list of Man Booker winners. It was third time lucky for the comic novelist. As well as making the long list in 2002, the 68-year-old, who on and off has spent 12 years living in Australia, was also nominated in 2006 for Kalooki Nights.

And clearly he was beginning to give up hope. Collecting the award last week, Jacobson joked: “I am speechless. Fortunately I prepared one earlier. Its dated 1983, that’s how long the wait has been. I see there is another, altered acceptance speech from 1994, 2002 — which I appear to have amended very slightly — and 2004, 2006 and 2008.

“I note that my language in these speeches grows less gracious with the years,” added the author.

“You start to want to blame the judges who have given you the prize for all the prizes they didn’t give you. But they aren’t, of course, the same judges.

“Tonight, I forgive everyone — they were only doing their job. And as for the judges of the 2010 Booker Prize, their praises surpasses them all.”

And praise there was from the judges. Chair of the panel, former poet laureate Sir Andrew Motion, hailed The Finkler Question as “a marvellous book: very funny, of course, but also very clever, very sad and very subtle”.

Motion was even moved to compare its author with none other than the Bard of Avon. “It would be a bit over the top to say it’s Shakespearean,” he said.

“But he [Jacobson] certainly knows something that Shakespeare knew — that the relationship between comedy and tragedy are intimately linked.

“It is a book about Jewishness. But it is so much more than that. It is a book about male friendship — and how we don’t always like our friends.”

The fact that the overt “Jewishness” of the book didn’t impede Howard’s path to the prize may well give a boost to other Diaspora writers who fear that, outside of America, such characters and themes are an obstacle to mainstream recognition and critical success.

But for Jacobson, who has described himself as the “Jewish Jane Austen”, the “Jewish writer” badge is one he wears with pride.

“We fear that this will put us in a little parochial backwater, but we ¬≠shouldn’t,” he said. “If we write parochially then we are parochial and we deserve the backwater. But you can write about Jewish things in a grand and non-parochial way and still feel there is a distinct Jewish flavour to them and be proud of it.”

As for Man Booker, despite his disdain in 2002, Jacobson clearly still had his eye on the prize.

“You never say no to anything, you take what’s given,” he mused. “But you do your own deal with the devil.”

This year it seems Jacobson has been prepared to shake hands with Satan.

ZEDDY LAWRENCE