The Spectator

Letters | 7 August 2010

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However, after reading the charming follow-up letter from my former colleague James Srodes, who attributes the author’s ordeal to me and reminisces about some characteristics he claims to have observed in me, I feel an urge to publicly declare, in the best tradition of Spartacus, ‘I am Alex Murray’. I do not live in France and have not been hounded by Gatwick officialdom yet, though I am a bit nervous about my next ski-ing trip from that airport.

Alex Murray (the other one)
Silverdart Publishing, London SE1

Not this chick

Sir: Your reviewer Anne Chisholm describes me as an exponent of ‘superior chick lit’ (Books, 31 July). For the record, I do not write chick lit of any kind. Only a peculiarly cloth-eared person could read I Think I Love You and not grasp that the novel is, among other things, a serious exploration of romantic feelings as they shift and grow through a female life. Sentence for sentence, my book is just as original and acute about the human condition as anything written by my male contemporaries. How it is that they are afforded a respect which is denied to equally scrupulous women writers?

Perhaps choosing to consider the experiences of a teenage girl automatically marks one out as a ‘chick lit’ writer? In which case, I find myself in excellent company with those other daffy hen-lettristes, Miss Austen and Miss Brontë. It is dismaying to find a female reviewer colluding in the crass pigeon-holing of fiction by women writers. I very much look forward to the Spectator’s forthcoming round-up of superior ‘dick lit’.

Allison Pearson
Cambridge

Lifting the veil

Sir: While Carol Sarler makes some pertinent points about burka-wearing in Western societies (‘The burka curtails my freedom’, 31 July), I feel she has overlooked an important factor in many Asians’ reservations about contact with dogs. In our home we invariably have one or more much-loved ex-rescue-centre dogs, but in most parts of Asia, or in any other country where rabies is endemic, I should be very wary about allowing myself to be touched by an unknown animal.

David Burton
Shropshire

Sir: Why can’t Carol Sarler see the obvious: that wearing this full-fig is simply delicious? I came into Heathrow recently and the burka-wearer was by far the most spectacular figure in the terminal. What better way to display one’s irresistible charms? Nudity? It’s less offensive than having a butterfly tattoo on one’s bottom.

Clifford Russell
Gloucestershire

Society column

Sir: Dot Wordsworth’s columns are almost always something of an educational tonic for me, can I perhaps return the favour? I think the reason why David Cameron opted for the ‘Big Society’ rather than the ‘Great Society’ (Mind your language, 31 July) is that the phrase has already been taken.

President Lyndon B. Johnson launched the ‘Great Society’ in the United States in the mid-1960s. Furthermore, it was not a great success with only the ‘food stamps’ initiative really standing the test of time. In addition, and perhaps more to the point, it was a social programme that was led from the centre and, by US standards, very statist in its approach. I doubt David Cameron would want his initiative to be associated with failure and meddling on the part of central government.

Andrew Macdonald
London W14

Saint Joan

Sir: Joan Collins (Diary, 24 July) is too modest about her role in Dynasty. As every soap opera fan knows, the fact is that in Alexis Carrington she created a bitch who made the likes of Cruella de Vil and Lynn ‘the demon’ Barber seem like wimps. Now it is being rerun on CBS Drama, weekday evenings get off to a brilliant start as we settle down at 6 p.m. to an hour-long repeat. Alexis’s unbudgeable coiffure, unsmudgeable lipstick, unbelievable furs, incredible ‘power shoulder pads’, unremitting loathing for the goody-goody heroine, Crystal, not to mention her unrivalled cut-glass diction, light up the screen in every scene in which she appears. The question is, what shall we do when the repeats come to an end? I’m getting withdrawal symptoms at the very thought.

Mirabel Cecil
London W9

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