The Booker Prize has done it again. A novel centred on food, its politics and its pleasures has won the coveted award, and the literary establishment is in full defensive mode.
The book, which we won't name here (no free plugs), has split the critics. Some call it a masterpiece. Others, a gimmick. The real story, though, is the row brewing among the literati. It's a classic establishment vs. upstart battle.
You see the pattern. Every year, the Booker panel picks something that rattles the cages. They want to prove they're relevant, that they 'get' modern Britain. This year, it's a novel that uses food as a lens on class, migration, and identity. Too clever by half, say the old guard.
I've been on the phone with agents, editors, the usual suspects. The Westminster equivalent would be a cabinet revolt over a policy that plays well in the shires but stinks in the salons. The literary world is no different.
'It's a travesty,' one veteran publisher told me. 'We're rewarding novelty over craft. What happened to a good story?'
But the young Turks are having none of it. 'This is the future,' a rising star at a major house said. 'The establishment is terrified of losing its grip.'
Sound familiar? It's the same dynamic playing out in politics. The old guard clinging to power, the insurgents demanding change. The Booker is just another battlefield.
The defending traditions crowd have a point, of course. The novel's prose is raw, its structure unconventional. It won't be to everyone's taste. But that's the point, isn't it? Art should provoke, not comfort.
Labour's internal wars over culture give you a sense of the stakes. The left is split between traditionalists who want to protect working-class stories and modernisers who want to push boundaries. Sound familiar?
The Booker has always been a signal. It tells you where the literary wind is blowing. This year, it's blowing towards food, towards the everyday, towards the visceral. That makes some people very uncomfortable.
I'll give you a bit of inside dope: I hear the judging panel was itself divided. Three against two in the final hours. That always makes for good gossip. And the chair, a well-known progressive, pushed hard for this winner.
The backlash was predictable. 'A novel about food? Next they'll give it to a cookbook.' You know the snobbery. It's the same elitism that sneers at popular culture while claiming to defend standards.
But here's the thing: the novel is selling. Flying off the shelves. The public doesn't care about the infighting. They just want a good read.
That's the real lesson for the establishment. They can defend traditions all they want. But if they don't adapt, they'll be left behind. The same is true in politics. The same is true everywhere.
The row will rage on. The critics will have their say. But the winner's name is already being engraved. And in a year's time, we'll be arguing about something else.
So here's my take: enjoy the controversy. It's what keeps the literary world interesting. And if you haven't read the book, do. Even if just to see what all the fuss is about. Then you can join the debate. That's what we're here for.
