In the Critics this week

Terry Eagleton on Roger Scruton, Kate Mossman on Michael Jackson and Anne Applebaum interviewed.

In the Critics section of this week’s New Statesman, Terry Eagleton reviews Our Church, Roger Scruton’s personal history of the Church of England. “Scruton is homesick for the medieval England of Piers Plowman,” Eagleton writes. “He seems not to know that it was . . . a place of filth, fanaticism and excruciating torture.” Eagleton argues that Scruton has succumbed to his Romantic prejudices. “One suspects that this maverick intellectual is as fervent as he is about belonging because he will never really be able to.”

In the Books interview, Jonathan Derbyshire talks to Anne Applebaum about her new book about eastern Europe after the Second World War, Iron Curtain. “There’s a very real sense,” she says, “in which Soviet totalitarianism contained the seeds of its own destruction.”

Also in Books: William Cook on an edition of Mary Whitehouse’s letters of complaint to broadcasters in the 1960s and 1970s; Emma Hogan reviews John Batchelor’s biography of Alfred Tennyson; Anita Sethi on Ali Smith’s essay collection Artful; philosopher Simon Blackburn reviews Mind and Cosmos by Thomas Nagel, and finds Nagel giving succour to creationists and fans of intelligent design; the BBC’s environment analyst Roger Harrabin on The Carbon Crunch by Dieter Helm; and Toby Litt on Julian Cope’s Copendium.

Our Critic at large this week is Kate Mossman, who revisits Michael Jackson’s epoch-making album Thriller, 30 years after its original release. “One of the reasons Thriller still sounds so brilliant today,” Mossman writes, “is that what came next” – Jackson’s radical experiments with cosmetic surgery – “never enters your head.”

Elsewhere in the Critics: Alexandra Coghlan on pianist Ben Grosvenor at the Queen Elizabeth Hall; NS theatre critic Andrew Billen on Damned by Despair, This House and The River; Rachel Cooke on the BBC’s Dickens update, Nick Nickleby; Antonia Quirke on the sacking of Danny Baker of BBC London 94.9; Ryan Gilbey on Ben Affleck’s Argo; Thomas Calvocoressi visits a new gallery in the Parisian banlieue; and Will Self’s Real Meals.

Michael Jackson in the mid-1980s (Photograph: Getty Images)
Show Hide image

How the radio stations reacted to Bob Dylan's Nobel Prize

For its part, Radio 1 was too absorbed by the Duke of Edinburgh’s Awards to mention the proclamation on Newsbeat.

Bob Dylan’s Nobel Prize in Literature inspired a bewildering gamut of radio responses. At first, proof of his talent was abundantly forthcoming, Andy Kershaw yelling down the line for World at One from a motorway services on the M6 within ­moments of the announcement. (“I can’t understand why they didn’t give this to him 41 years ago!”)

However, a full six days after Talk Radio excitedly reported the event on its home page (“a pivotal part of the cultural revolution of the 1960s”), the online feature has yet to attract a single comment. That’s zero talk. For its part, Radio 1 was too absorbed by the Duke of Edinburgh’s Awards to mention the proclamation on Newsbeat, though Heart FM firmly quoted the chair of the English faculty at Oxford (“The Tennyson of our time”), and pencil-suckingly dissected lyrics (“Ain’t talkin’, just walkin’/ Up the road . . .”).

Is it poetry? Is it literature? You could tell it was doing everybody’s head in. But when, on Radio 4’s Front Row, Billy Bragg praised Dylan for “bringing a literary and poetic thread into pop music”, the argument sounded terribly old.

The whole battle about Dylan being as great a poet as Tennyson is a hangover from an ancient battle, from a time when it actually had to be pointed out that this pop-music stuff can be brilliant and clever. A time when boring people battled for respect and prestige for an obvious genius. Over on Radio 2, Mark Goodier cheerfully played “Tangled Up in Blue” (“Major, major prize for Bob today. If that isn’t a decent excuse to play a song, I don’t know what is”). But by Sunday, on Radio 4’s Broadcasting House, the gloves were off and guests were declaring that they couldn’t stand Dylan’s voice (cliché, pathetic).

By Monday Simon Armitage was saying that Dylan’s lyrics had no more sophistication than something composed by a child. Is it poetry? Is it literature? Well, it kind of is. But it kind of isn’t. And it doesn’t matter very much, except to the likes of Dylan – and only a long, long time ago. Now he hardly requires the approbation. The Nobel Committee has given the prize to the one writer in the world who doesn’t need it. 

Antonia Quirke is an author and journalist. She is a presenter on The Film Programme and Pick of the Week (Radio 4) and Film 2015 and The One Show (BBC 1). She writes a column on radio for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 20 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Brothers in blood