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Title: Aims high, falls low
Review: It's tough to write a plausible novel in you mid-twenties. You've had limited life experience. Even worse, you don't yet realize that. If you're wise, you stick to your personal sphere and come out with something like disguised autobiography, and many authors have found success following that formula. Stray from it at your peril because if you're brilliant, you'll end up with Pickwick Papers. But if you're ordinary you'll produce something like White Teeth. This is another in that depressing line of books written by someone who's looked at life mainly through a TV set. Characters ape their on-screen representations instead of the other way around and are consequently believable only to those for whom life mimics pulp fiction. The story hops around in a vain attempt at drama and creativity. There are excellent books up for literary awards in the UK this year and some fine first novels (try Azzopardi's The Hiding Place). How White Teeth finds its way into their company escapes me.
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