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Against Interpretation, by Susan Sontag (Vintage, pounds 6.99)
THE essays here may be around 30 years old but, even if the artists discussed have the whiff of a vanished intellectualism - Resnais, Godard, Lukacs - Sontag's prose does not. Why can't all critics write like this? Clear, intelligent, neither sucking up to reputations nor debunking obvious targets. It's great to see this back in print, but those lazy curs at Vintage could at least have added an index.
Complicity, by Iain Banks (Abacus, pounds 6.99)
IAIN BANKS is no great writer. His characters clank, the dialogue is crude, the grand guignol scenes mechanically contrived. And yet this is not the...