The longevity of artists creates special difficulties for their critics. Ideally, from a critical point of view, artists ought to follow Keats's example and die young, leaving behind a tidy oeuvre about which coherent generalisations can be made. Too often, however, artists survive to an unreasonable age, passing through phase after phase, advancing and regressing with no steady rhythm, every year or so tossing a new stumbling-block into the path of those who would like to understand them. Thomas Hardy was England's worst offender in this regard: but Graham Greene, now 80, bids fair to give Hardy a run for his money.

LRB 6 December 1984 | PDF Download