Fiction: For the third time in two decades a 20-strong Best of Young British Novelists selection has been compiled and published by that most trendy of literary magazines, Granta, writes Eileen Battersby.
The word "trendy" may seem unfair, but it is accurate. Granta has always been fashionably, as well as intelligently, up to the minute with what is happening in fiction, memoir, reportage, comment and literary trends.
It has also, and most significantly, been as alert to the US literary scene as it has been to the British - the magazine, after all, was founded (or, rather, initially revived in a modern format) from the ashes of an earlier college review - by Cambridge-based Californian Bill Buford, a shrewd critic and literary talent-spotter with a foot in both camps.
This new "best of British" round-up has its share of promise, proven talent, ghosts and politics. Any new A-team list of young (or youngish) established and emerging writers is obliged to defer to the original, the dazzling class of 1983 - then all youthful and now mostly beyond the age of 50.
Dominated by the young and pre-Money Martin Amis, and the equally young and pre-Waterland Graham Swift, both of whom were represented by extracts from those then-forthcoming works, it also featured Salman Rushdie, who had already won the 1981 Booker Prize with Midnight's Children.
Swift would go on to win the Booker 13 years later with Last Orders in 1996, and the class of '83 also included a further three future Booker winners in Kazuo Ishiguro (1989), Pat Barker (1995) and Ian McEwan (2000). It is only to be lamented that another selected writer, the gifted Shiva Naipaul, was to die prematurely. Establishment figures Julian Barnes, William Boyd and Rose Tremain featured, as did, rather surprisingly, ace reviewer Adam Mars-Jones and A.N. Wilson.
These classmates of sorts experienced success at varying levels, and 10 years passed. Only Ishiguro and, once again surprisingly, still largely an ace reviewer, Adam Mars-Jones, featured in the next selection made, somewhat less loudly, in 1993. Interestingly, that choice included one other Booker winner in Ben Okri, who had won two years earlier. Probably the most exciting of that list was the young Scot, A.L. Kennedy, the only member of the class of '93 to make this new book.
In his introduction, Granta editor Ian Jack considers not only the background to these "best of" selections, but also their role in promoting fiction. Publishing has come to depend on hype. Jack refers to "a popular grudge", the widespread habit of remarking that "it's easier for a writer to find a publisher if he, and perhaps particularly she, is young and good-looking". It should also be pointed out, though, that no single body of national literature, at least in the context of fiction writing, is quite as subject to attack as that of Britain. In any given year the more exciting Booker contenders tend to come from India, Africa, Canada and Australia - not forgetting Ireland. Anywhere except Britain.
If Jack asks whether such selections are necessary, and then answers that they are, he also underlines an often overlooked aspect of the process. The judging panel actually requests submissions from publishers and agents. It then reads these works and compiles its list. It is odd that he makes no reference to another Granta "best of" volume, the 1996 Best of Young American Novelists selection, which could claim writers such as Anne Tyler, Tobias Wolff and Robert Stone as national judges.
Among the writers representing the British class of 2003 are some fine, some dull and some obvious choices. Spearheading the obvious are Sarah Waters - whose Tipping the Velvet and 2002 Booker contender, Fingersmith, one either loves or dislikes - and Zadie Smith, the much-hyped author of White Teeth, who faltered badly last year with her disappointingly slight second novel, The Autograph Man.
Waters's story, 'Helen and Julia', in which two lovers battle jealousy and need, left me as cold as does all of her work. Smith, however, earned her place with 'Martha, Martha', a good story in which a strange young Englishwoman arrives in the US intent on renting an apartment - it leaves the reader wanting more.
This is the test that works best when reading a volume of new work or works in progress: do you want more? That could not be said of Adam Thirlwell's rather lifeless tale, 'The Cyrillic Alphabet', or Rachel Seiffert's earnest but flat narrative, 'The Field Study', which is disappointing and lacks the conviction that conferred power on her 2001 Booker contender, The Dark Room, an important book that looks at the impact of war and its subsequent legacies.
While Andrew O'Hagan is certainly among the best writers of his generation, although his non-fiction has so far outshone his fiction, it is irritating to see him represented here by a chapter from his recently published novel, Personality. The fact that 'Gas, Boys, Gas' is probably the best sequence in the book does not prevent it standing out more for not being a new or unpublished work than for being that impressive.
O'Hagan's fellow Scot, A.L. Kennedy, a "best of" veteran and a very good writer, shines in this company with 'Room 536', a bizarre, witty and cleverly conversational Auster-like narrative that honestly does leave one hungry for more. It is the tone of this tale that engages. Kennedy's narrator is clever, alert, ironic, amusing and very disturbed. It's the voice of a mind on the run. Wonderful stuff.
Her piece also catches the unifying humorous mood of the best contributions. Yet another Scot, Alan Warner, whose previous fiction has been very black indeed, has a lot of fun with 'The Costa Pool Bums', in which the hidden comic potential of airport delays emerges with much candour.
Ben Rice's inclusion is immensely satisfying, considering the grace and subtle style he displayed in the beautiful, understated novella, Pobby and Dingan (2000). His story, 'Look at Me, I'm Beautiful', is a hilarious account of how one man's obsession with his exotic pet fish comes to an abrupt end on witnessing the difficulties experienced by a friend sharing his hobby.
Philip Hensher has to date written four stylish, engaging and diverse novels; Other Lulus (1994), Kitchen Venom (1996), Pleasured (1998) and The Mulberry Empire (2002). Pleasured is one of those rare British novels that somehow faded into the background while inferior books were praised beyond their merits. It is a dark, erotic study well worth reading, while The Mulberry Empire is a lively, atmospheric historical novel showcasing the grand traditional notions of storytelling. His story here, 'In Time of War', is understated and impressively ambivalent. Its central character is a drifter, not so much lost as no longer young and suspended in time in India. Hensher is a real talent and his place here is well-deserved.
Following the success of his 2001 Booker-shortlisted second novel, number9dream, it was fair to expect a great deal of English writer David Mitchell. Alas, his story, 'The January Man', is little more than an unimpressive attempt at penning yet another supposedly witty variation on the theme of boyhood revisited. Also noticeably weak are former IMPAC winner Nicola Barker's haphazard new story, 'The Balance', and 'Clangers', a crude, inconsequential extract from Susan Elderkin's forthcoming novel, The Voices, that fails to make one eager to read more of it.
As a novelist, Rachel Cusk always appears to be on the verge of having something important to say, yet so far she has not quite said it. Her included story, 'After Caravaggio's Sacrifice of Isaac', is so typical of much British fiction that it could almost be described as a formula piece.
Hari Kunzru's debut, The Impressionist, did well on publication last year, but the extract published here, 'Lila.exe', from a work in progress, is no more than a half-heartedly clever yarn about a computer virus.
Judging on this selection, the State of the Nation novel, so dominant in the 1980s, appears to have abated somewhat. But British writers have always looked to history, the past and, particularly, the world wars. The longest extract in this class of 2003 is written by Peter Ho Davies, a Granta author. Mentioning this is not intended as a criticism (Andrew O'Hagan is a Granta magazine contributing editor, and Granta Books is a leading publishing imprint). Davies, though, on the basis of 'Leading Men', an extract from his first novel, to be published next year, belongs to the predictable school of British fiction,which tends to rely on history and historical figures, in this case the character of Rudolph Hess. It is a dull piece, unlikely to tempt one towards the novel.
The same could be said of David Peace's 'Here We Go', an extract from his forthcoming novel, GB 84. Set during the miner's strike of the mid-1980s, this certainly promises to be another State of the Nation novel, a genre that has preoccupied British fiction and resulted in many predictable novels that fell into the faction trap. Peace's writing is dogged, uninspiring and light years away from that of an A. L. Kennedy.
Aside from Kennedy, there is the wonderful piece, 'Dinner with Dr Azad', an extract from newcomer Monica Ali's forthcoming début, Brick Lane. In it, a bewildered young wife, transplanted from the Middle East to a London flat, observes her well-meaning if unimpressive husband. Here is an exciting voice.
Dan Rhodes also demonstrates much flair in the published extract from his newly published novel, Timoleon Vieta Come Home. It is about a transaction: room and board in exchange for sex. The only problem with Rhodes's inclusion is that his biographical note states "he isn't planning to write more fiction". So how can his future progress be assessed?
The first Irish writer to make a Best of Young British selection is Belfast's Robert McLiam Wilson. Still only 39, he has three novels behind him, including a terrific début, Ripley Bogle (1989), charting some days in the life of an impressively articulate dropout. It is a virtuoso piece with shades of A Confederacy of Dunces (1980). His subsequent novels have not matched it, but he is a diverse and daring writer. Represented by an extract from a forthcoming novel, he is attempting a surreal tone here that does not quite convince. Still, he is interesting and his would be one of the stronger, more sophisticated voices in this class of 2003.
Eileen Battersby is Literary Correspondent of The Irish Times
Best of Young British Novelists 2003. Granta, 350pp. £9.99
Best of 1983
Martin Amis
Pat Barker
Julian Barnes
Ursula Bentley
William Boyd
Buchi Emecheta
Maggie Gee
Kazuo Ishiguro
Alan Judd
Adam Mars-Jones
Ian McEwan
Shiva Naipaul
Philip Norman
Christopher Priest
Salmon Rushdie
Clive Sinclair
Lisa St Aubin de Terán
Graham Swift
Rose Tremain
A.N. Wilson
Best of 1993
Iain Banks
Anne Billson
Adam Lively
Louis De Bernières
Tibor Fischer
Esther Freud
Alan Hollinghurst
Kazuo Ishiguro
A.L Kennedy
Philip Kerr
Hanif Kureishi
Adam Mars-Jones
Candia McWilliam
Lawrence Norfolk
Ben Okri
Caryl Phillips
Will Self
Nicholas Shakespeare
Helen Simpson
Jeanette Winterson