So you've gone into hospital for some routine neurosurgery, and as the anaesthetist's putting you under you make small talk about the surgeon who'll be operating on you.

'Don't worry, he's very experienced,' the anaesthetist says. 'Actually, he's won a Nobel Prize.'

'Really?' you say. 'What for?'

'Physics.'

'Physics?'

'Yes, he's a very distinguished rocket scientist.'

'Rocket scientist? Hang on a minute ...' At which point you lose consciousness.

Obviously that would never happen. But writing novels isn't brain surgery, so it doesn't really matter, in a life or death sense, that the entomologist E.O. Wilson's recently published first novel, Anthill (Norton, £17.99), carries on its cover the words: 'Winner of the Pulitzer Prize'. This is a true description of Wilson - he's won two Pulitzers, in fact, in the 'general non-fiction' category, for On Human Nature (1979) and The Ants (1991) - but slapping the accolade on the front of a novel comes close to false advertising.

LRB 8 July 2010 | PDF Download