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called society’s “self enclosed humanism” and admits
that “I was fascinated by the nihilists and consciously
styled myself in that way as a destructive intellectual
force, in so far as I saw my writing as an extension
of that role”. Like all great authors , Self writes with
an overriding sense of his own omnipotence within the
realm of his own imagination. Egotistical, maybe, but
vain? No. If, as Self admits that “as you publish more,
the more peculiarly arrogant you become,” he is also
modestly aware of his own limitations.
One of the major criticisms of his work is the way in
which he is concerned more with the use of elaborate
imagery and excessive metaphor, at the expense of
characterisation and plot. Yet it is something that Self
is willing to admit to. “I think the real problem with
my books is the lack of structure. I have great difficulty
with plot and I have never got on with character, and
have always found them very artificial, and essentially
romantic in that way, but I have largely written about
ideas, and I view descriptive prose, the metaphorical
aspects of the work as part and parcel of the ideas.”
Although some of the stories in the new book, such
as ‘The Rock Of Crack As Big As The Ritz’, ‘Dave
Too’ and ‘A Story For Europe’ have been published
previously in The Sweet Smell Of Psychosis, his style of
composition remains consistent – writing very quickly
and spontaneously – a technique he developed from his
journalism. “I don’t think of myself much, or what I am
BUY Will Self books online from and
saying, and I am often very surprised by the result.” It
is this immediacy and unpredictability that has become
a hallmark of his work. :My aim is to write con brio. I
have always thought that you can only write one version
of a book, and I think that is what hamstrings a
lot of people’s approach to the notion of writing as a
search for meaning, a pursuit of perfection. But I really
suffer with a sense of dissatisfaction with my work. I
am not sure if it would help if they were crafted better,
I would be a different writer. I am content to remain
ragged in that way.”
If critics have pointed to his apparent irreverence
and lack of emotional engagement towards the act of
writing, he is keen to suggest that “I am fairly mystical
about the relationship with the text … a posture of humility
in relation to your own muse is quite important
and my personal feelings I try to keep away from that.”
Unlike what he agrees has become the life blood of
contemporary literary discourse: “Self-confession as I
see it a really decadent syndrome … a crisis of imagination
and very depressing.” While his work is “nakedly
personal”, he opposes any literalist interpretation of his
work, and is intent in distancing himself from the idea
that fiction should pandering to the essentially regressive
or escapist tendencies of the book reading public.
“To think that would be insane, I might as well write
Mills and Boon. Every text contains within itself the
idea of an objective reading … those who think there
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