From the fact-checking department: Let me count the ways

The errors and inaccuracies of Richard Bradford.

Here, for the record, is a list of some of the factual errors alluded to in my review of Richard Bradford's book Martin Amis: The Biography:

- "Around 1956-57 Martin's parents' marriage came close to collapse, due primarily to Hilly's affair with the journalist Henry Fairlie. Fairlie resembled the sort of character played by Leslie Phillips or Terry-Thomas in Ealing Comedies". Neither Leslie Phillips nor Terry-Thomas appeared in an Ealing comedy. Terry-Thomas did, however, play Bertrand Welch in the adaptation of Lucky Jim.

- "Butterfield was fully aware of Peterhouse's reputation as the most conservative ... of the Cambridge colleges - Tom Sharpe's Porterhouse Blue was comprised partly of stories, many accurate, of the bizarre, ritualistic archaisms of the place." Herbert Butterfield may have been aware of Peterhouse's reputation in 1961, when he interviewed Kingsley Amis for a Fellowship, but Tom Sharpe's novel wouldn't have reinforced that impression for another 13 years.

- "Kingsley Amis met Elizabeth Jane Howard at the Cheltenham Literature Festival in October 1962. She was, that year, director of the event. Its theme was 'Sex in Literature', drawing in such luminaries as Joseph Heller and Carson McCullers and encouraging flirtatious banter between all involved." I cannot be certain on this point; accounts differ. But it seems that Elizabeth Jane Howard was the honorary artistic director for that year's festival, of which "Sex in Literature" was not the theme, merely the title of one panel discussion. I am fairly confident that there was no flirtatious banter between Kingsley Amis and Joseph Heller.

- "Martin's and Philip's initial encounter with Jane occurred shortly after their return from Majorca and is described in Experience, rather as if a piece by Iris Murdoch had been rewritten by a copy-editor with some cognizance of the real world." Iris Murdoch possessed cognizance of the real world.

- "Thirty-five years later the letters between Amis senior and Philip Larkin would be published and recognized as the most outrageous epistolary novel ever". The letters of Kingsley Amis and the letters of Philip Larkin were published almost a decade apart. (Neither was recognised as the most outrageous epistolary novel ever - or rather, as half of one.)

- "His tutor Jonathan Wordsworth was the poet's great, great, great, great nephew and in case anyone suspected otherwise his rooms were generously distributed with 'family' memorabilia". Leaving aside the use of "distributed" in that sentence, it should be noted that despite the memorabilia, some might have suspected that Jonathan Wordsworth was in fact William Wordsworth's great-great-great nephew. (Christopher Ricks once said, memorably, that Jonathan Wordsworth had an Oedipal relationship to the poet, although he was only "a collateral descendant".)

- "Like most major writers he rarely if ever admits to anything so compromising as influence". It's hard to know where to start. Let this admission, from a 1980 article never collected in a book, stand for all the hundreds of reasons why Bradford's claim is false: "That bit about 'wiry wings' [in The Rachel Papers] was stolen ... from Dickens ... I once lifted a whole paragraph of mesmeric jargon from J G Ballard's The Drowned World."

- "John Gross, then editor of the TLS, and guest at one of the numerous, informal gatherings at Lemmons, asked Martin if he had any interest in a full-time junior post. He did but asked if the appointment could be deferred for about six months ... He began work officially at the TLS in March 1972." John Gross did not move from the New Statesman to the TLS until 1974 (as Bradford later informs us).

- "[In 1973, Clive James] had only been in London for three years." Clive James came down from Cambridge in 1969 (or thereabouts), but he had lived in London for three years in the 1960s, having left Australia in 1961.

- "'To get to [Tina Brown's] room in college I would have to step over waiting TV crews, interviewers, profilists.'... Martin's description is certainly not hyperbole." It is hyperbole.

- Jeremy Treglown did not work "mainly for the TLS" in 1977. At that time, he taught at UCL; he joined the TLS in 1979. According the Times Literary Supplement Historical Archive, established in part by Jeremy Treglown, his first article appeared in the issue of 23 November 1979.

- Bradford quotes Clive James as saying that Leavis retired in 1964. However you define "retired" in relation to an academic, Leavis didn't retire in 1964.

- "Martin and Mary and later Angela were the Becks and Posh of their day." Really?

- "Martin continued for the simple reason that Kavanagh had settled a fee that went far beyond any advance even the most popular novelist could hope for: £30,000." At around the same time, Joseph Heller - hardly the most popular novelist - received around a $1m for Good As Gold.

- Ernest Hemingway is not an example of "the kind of essayist that the British press had not previously countenanced", and which Amis hoped to become.

- Philip Roth (b. 1933) and John Updike (b. 1932) are not "near contemporaries" of Vladimir Nabokov (b. 1899).

- Saul Bellow had not "three turbulent, and failed, marriages" but four.

- "Shortly after Money was published Martin wrote an essay for Atlantic Monthly on Bellow's The Adventures of Augie March". It was written more than a decade later.

- George Steiner's The Portage to San Cristobal of A.H. was published in 1981, not 1979. Malcolm Bradbury, in one of his numerous books about fiction, described it as a "long novella", and recalls that it was one of the books - Amis's Other People was another - considered for that year's Booker Prize, on which he was chair of judges. The prize eventually went to Midnight's Children.

- In Groundhog Day, Bill Murray's character does not awake "in full knowledge of what fate has in store for him for the next twenty-four hours."

- Peter Hitchens doesn't contribute articles to "the Daily Mail that made Thatcherism seem spinelessly irresolute by comparison" - he did so for the Express and then the Mail on Sunday.

Leo Robson is the lead fiction reviewer for the New Statesman.

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How Paul Giamatti changed the fate of Pinot Noir

The actor's prickly character in Sideways - a film about wine buffs - made us appreciate this tricky grape.

When Paul Giamatti, playing Miles in the 2004 film Sideways, started waxing lyrical about Pinot Noir, he changed his own fate and, surprisingly, that of the grape. It is hard to know which was more unlikely: the sexual interest of the beautiful, wine-loving Maya (Virginia Madsen) in this thin-skinned, temperamental loser, or the world’s heightened interest in this thin-skinned, temperamental grape.

“Only somebody who really takes the time to understand Pinot’s potential can then coax it into its fullest expression,” Miles growled and, kapow: those patient winemakers suddenly found a bunch of film buffs queuing for their wine. Perhaps it was the character’s description of its flavours as “just the most haunting and brilliant and thrilling and subtle . . . on the planet”. Perhaps it was the power of celebrity approval.

In fact, the correlation between finicky Miles and finicky Pinot is even closer than the script claims. Miles in California wine country doesn’t behave exactly like Miles back home in San Diego, and that is true of Pinot Noir, too. Everybody marvels at the tiny difference between one Burgundy vineyard and the next: how Pommard’s red wines have such power while those of Volnay next door have more elegance; how a wine such as Armand Rousseau’s Premier Cru Clos St Jacques – so good as to be almost indescribable – can differ in quality from surrounding Gevrey-Chambertins, which aren’t exactly shoddy either.

Perhaps the Sideways audience understood that no two of us are alike. Miles was talking about vulnerability, and the need to feel unique and uniquely cared for. No wonder Maya melted.

Given its variability and responsiveness, the best way to explore Pinot is to try several. So, I lined up bottles and drinkers from three continents and took a world tour without leaving the dinner table.

It seemed unfair to include a great Burgundy name, so I began with David Moreau’s Maranges 2014 from the southernmost part of the Côte d’Or. It had clean, redcurranty flavours but felt too young – trying to taste the terroir was like asking a lost toddler for their address. Still, when we moved on to a purplish Pinot from Bulgaria, a country still suffering the loss of the vast and uncritical Soviet market, the Maranges improved by comparison. We fled to America, where Oregon Pinots, particularly from the Willamette Valley, are much praised and steeply priced. Lemelson Vineyards’ “Thea’s Selection” 2013 was rich but lacked depth; I preferred the wild berries and marzipan of Elizabeth’s Reserve 2012 from Adelsheim Vineyard.

The difference between the two, just six miles apart, was their most interesting aspect, so we assembled another pair of neighbours: Ocean Eight 2012 and Paringa Estate 2013, both from Australia’s Mornington Peninsula, separated by a year and four zigzagging miles.

These are beautiful wines, the former full of blackberry, the latter spectacular, perfectly structured and with a scent to dab behind your ears. And here is the paradox of Pinot, which tastes of where it’s grown but is grown everywhere that stubborn individuals can persuade it to fruit.

The Mornington Peninsula is planted with Pinot because its patient winemakers claim their climate is similar to Burgundy’s – which would be hilarious if it weren’t, like Miles’s grandstanding, rather plaintive. This is a spit of land with water on three sides, ten thousand miles from France, as much like the landlocked Côte d’Or as I am like Virginia Madsen, which is to say that there are basic structural similarities but you’ll never mistake one for the other.

Ambition and imagination are qualities we don’t share with the vine – but plant those attributes in the right soil and the results can be delicious.

Nina Caplan is the 2014 Fortnum & Mason Drink Writer of the Year and 2014 Louis Roederer International Wine Columnist of the Year for her columns on drink in the New Statesman. She tweets as @NinaCaplan.

This article first appeared in the 24 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The world after Brexit