Stanley and the Women

by Kingsley Amis

1st Penguin 1985 edition paperback vg++ book In stock shipped from our UK warehouse

Genres: Fiction, British Literature, Humor, Classics, Novels, 20th Century, Contemporary

317 pages, Mass Market Paperback

Published January 1, 1985

About the author

Best known novels of British writer Sir Kingsley William Amis include Lucky Jim (1954) and The Old Devils (1986).

This English poet, critic, and teacher composed more than twenty-three collections, short stories, radio and television scripts, and books of social and literary criticism. He fathered Martin Amis.

William Robert Amis, a clerk of a mustard manufacturer, fathered him. He began his education at the city of London school, and went up to college of Saint John, Oxford, in April 1941 to read English; he met Philip Larkin and formed the most important friendship of his life. After only a year, the Army called him for service in July 1942. After serving as a lieutenant in the royal corps of signals in the Second World War, Amis returned to Oxford in October 1945 to complete his degree. He worked hard and got a first in English in 1947, and then decided to devote much of his time.

Pen names: [authorRobert Markham|553548] and William Bill Tanner

Reviews

[Ted Fontenot · Rating 5 out of 5]

Despite the ire displayed here by some silly ideologues, this is really a first-rate novel by the inimitable Kingsley Amis. He creates a character with an authentic voice, a character that is both comically befuddled and ultimately depressingly confused. But always likeable, likeable because he is true and concerned. His portrait of his ex-wife and his present wife are biting, although at the beginning he is certainly taken with and devoted to that present wife. But the male characters don't really fare much better. They're mostly foolishly powerless sots. To the extent it can be said to be misogynistic, its a misogynism that is earned. And a misogynism that is wonderfully comic. Amis's male characters in his fiction have suffered much worse. Grow up.

As a corrective if you like, read Amis followup novel The Old Devils. It just might be the best novel ever written about romantic love between two old people that I've ever read. The genuine feeling the male protagonist has for a woman he loved and lost and comes into contact with again is so heartfelt that it is amazing. Read it and you'll see that Amis's views of women are complex and can't be so readily dismissed. This is what gives his work body and texture.

[Harry Kane · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an impeccable novel.

...Some would believe that getting intensely angry at the perceived slight to one's gender's honor due to the female protagonists in the book being portrayed as neurotic and selfish, is behavior that only helps prove that all women ever are kind, rational, and mentally balanced, and that it is therefore the duty of all novelists to portray their female characters in this way, and if they don't--they have failed as novelists and human beings.

Perhaps an analogy would help.

When a Chinese or a Russian audience watches a James Bond film where the Chinese or the Russians are the 'baddies'--suppose Group A of the viewers judge the film on the basis of its cinematic qualities and its ability to entertain, while the Group B folks reject it outright on the grounds that it is 'anti-Russian' or 'anti-Chinese', while the more articulate of them even start lecturing earnestly everyone within earshot that "not all Chinese or Russians plot to overthrow the west, this is a very narrow view," and perhaps even give a knowing sneer and say wryly something like: "Oh dear, looks like the film director has never met a normal Chinese person and has become bitter about it"and such.

Which group would you say is made up of reasonable viewers, and which group--of sad sacks?

Right.

When one is ten years old, it's OK to judge books as 'good' or 'bad' because one likes or dislikes the characters. When one is fifteen, it's OK to judge books as 'good' or 'bad' because one agrees or disagrees with the views of the main character (or the author himself, should he make an appearance as straight omniscient POV; which is a topic connected to the heart-breaking subspecies of readers that are unable to make the distinction between the alleged 'views' of the author, and those of his/her characters, but that's a separate and morbid discussion).

Once one is an adult, judging books thusly is a symptom and a diagnosis.

The same way, for example, some victims of cerebral insufficiency can't read Death in Venice without flying into a rage due to perceived either 'vilification of homosexuality' or 'promotion of pedophilia' and similar tabloid/online forum mentality drivel.

No. A book of fiction is judged by the quality of the prose, the characters, and the structure. By the amount of time it took to finish, by whether you reread it again or not, by whether you would recommend it to someone else, by whether it made you rethink parts of your life, or perhaps helped you not think and instead relax really well, and such. The other approach of the 'how dare you say all Chinese people plot to overthrow the west' type is...embarrassing tantrums of minds trapped in vicious loops of emotional agony which colors everything inside and outside them.

If pressed to the logical conclusions of their thoughts, the more erudite of this crowd who do admit that they can not reasonably expect that every type of person is presented 'positively' in popular entertainment, arrive upon a compulsive-obsessive formula of 'fairness', where in a film or a book for every ignorant thug Italian there must be also a kindly and cultivated Italian to balance him out; for every shrill and scheming woman there must be a reasonable and straightforward one; for every broken down alcoholic loser homosexual there must be a fit and sober CEO homosexual... and aside from this, also every conceivable stereotype must be foiled and subverted, and thus every character should more or less do the opposite of what the biases of the readers and the audience expects them to, otherwise the book or film promotes fascism and ignorance.

The moral principles behind this silliness are noble indeed, but are not really served very well by it.

This book, like all Kingsley Amis books following the almost-brilliant Lucky Jim (The Alternation and Colonel Sun excluded from the list as sideline experiments), is impeccable. Scott Fitzgerald wrote one A-level 'The Great Gatsby', but Kingsley Amis has managed to write a score of English B-level 'Gatsbys', which is a titanic achievement and an enormous contribution to the English literary language.

And keeping in mind that in spite of all the toil that went into feminist theory since the 1960's, with some terrific thinkers there, all that's filtered down to the pleb is the vague idea that 'female characters should behave either like boys with breasts or like wise semi-goddesses, and preferably have all sorts of phallic boots and swords on them for good measure'--i.e. the same decrepit idea of an Egyptian empress wearing a fake beard in order to be 'as good as a man', but applied to all of pop culture--the epistemological basis which the whole 'misogynistic book/author' kerfuffle stands on graduates from dubious to ludicrous.

Stanley and the Women is a book about a vaguely decent but also intensely selfish man with many character flaws and psychological blind spots, surrounded by a supporting cast of other intensely selfish men with many character flaws and psychological blind spots, and many intensely selfish... women...with many character flaws and psychological blind spots; with the men periodically discussing with each other that the women are barking mad, or even more sinisterly, are not barking mad but that their behavior is their type of sanity.

And the book works out perfectly. Kingsley Amis is the greatest writer of the last wave of modernists; much subtler than Tom Wolfe for example, displaying an infinitely higher mastery as a weaver of nuances.

If you want to sample gorgeous nuances in popular post-WWII literature, you turn to John le Carre, to Ross Macdonald, to Ramsey Campbell, to Peter Straub, and last but not least, indeed--foremost--to Kingsley Amis.

[Denise · Rating 1 out of 5]

This book made me so angry I ripped it up directly after finishing it. It's the worst piece of misogynistic garbage I have ever read and nothing can induce me to read another book by Kingsley Amis. I didn't believe, then, in not finishing a book no matter how much it disgusted me but now I have decided life is too short and there are too many good, worthy books out there to read.

[Nimbex · Rating 4 out of 5]

Con el clima feminista y políticamente correcto que vivimos últimamente... a Kingsley Amis lo hubieran crucificado, aunque supongo que la gente con sentido del humor sabría/sabrá apreciarlo porque el libro no está nada mal. A mí me ha gustado, no tanto como La suerte de Jim pero mucho más que Los viejos demonios; no aburre, la prosa es aguda y está lleno de situaciones estrafalarias y divertidas. Ayuda leer el prólogo, en el que explican la razón de la particular opinión del señor Amis sobre las mujeres.

[Dave Morris · Rating 3 out of 5]

I don’t have a lot of truck with authorial intention. Many of the writers I read died decades or even centuries ago. I lack the time or inclination to research their personal lives. What they wrote has to speak to me; that’s the necessary and sufficient condition.

That said, I looked into the contemporary reactions to Stanley and the Women because I vaguely remember it creating a bit of a kerfuffle at the time. It seems that opinion was divided as to how Amis intended us to take the book. Marilyn Butler, writing in the LRB, felt it was a satirical take on a certain type of pompous, bewildered, reflexively anti-semitic and mildly misogynistic middle-aged Englishman. And that’s how I took it. The women in Stanley’s life largely get the better of him, not by some sort of unfair bamboozling, but by being right. (I did say largely.) But David Lodge disagrees; in the comments he says, “The artfulness of the book resides precisely in this: that it conceals the full force of its misogynist message until the reader is so deeply involved in the story that s(he) cannot simply dismiss it.”

Bearing in mind that none of this analysis makes a jot of difference to the book itself – which I found funny and entertaining – I then sought out an interview with Martin Amis in which he said, “The critique of womankind that seeps its way through Jake’s Thing and Stanley and the Women is certainly not without interest or pertinence (both novels are sinisterly vigorous). My objection to these novels is simpler than that: I can feel Dad’s thumb on the scales.”

Now that’s more like it. Because if an author is obviously pushing you (think of Mary Sue characters) then the problem is not their intention but the fact that they’re doing it badly. A finger on the scales is bad writing. It fails Doris Lessing’s test: it doesn’t work. And we may be tempted to say that if Martin Amis wouldn’t know, who would? But actually I think the problem is that he knows his father’s views too well, and gives him too little credit as a writer.

Life is a performance. The views we express are the views of the part of ourselves we choose to give priority to. But a writer, if they’re any good, has to move beyond that. They may start out intending to write a book condemning Hitler, say, but to write the book they must understand Hitler as a person. Even if in everyday life they’d spit venom at the mention of his name, the novel will be more balanced. I’m not suggesting it need end up promoting Nazi ideology, simply that we must sense a reality beyond the ranting Nuremberg caricature. (I only brought up Hitler because of Stanley’s vague but still offensive anti-semitism, by the way; it’s not Godwin’s Law.)

So I suspect that even if Kingsley Amis set out to write an approving portrait of a man somewhat like his own public persona, the author in him put paid to any such partiality. Note that the delusions of Stanley’s son, who turns up at the start of the book literally out of his mind, are really just more extreme and absurd versions of some of Stanley’s unexamined attitudes. It’s even possible that as Amis typed “THE END” he purred at the thought of having just completed a brilliantly scathing attack on all those bloody women. I don’t know his intentions. But if he did think that, it’s because he didn’t appreciate how good a writer he really was. Because the end result conveys a lot more empathy and compassion for all the characters, male and female. At least, it did for me.

[Magdelanye · Rating 1 out of 5]

While I have struggled myself to overcome the tendencey, I have nothing against the detached,ironic point of view.Sometimes the tone is just right for the material,but too often it is not an entirely satisfactory outlet of expression, affirming supercilliousness and a narrow,rigid style of observation that can seem cruel in its utter indifference to the emotional range of most lives.Used without sensitivity,instead of scathing social commentary we get value judgements and cheap wit that does nothing to illuminate anything more than the authors preconditioned stance.

In the case of KA, this stance is clearly moldy old patriarchal elitism mysogymy,and casual racism that Amis explicity defends as normal,common garden variety.He is more concerned about his next drink and more anxious comparing accents and nursing his ego than getting a grip on the situation he finds himself in when his only child,from his first marriage,has what we might politely call a nervous breakdown or mental health issues,otherwise and in this book known as going bonkers,flipping out,raving mad.

At first I took the crassness of KA's attitude in stride,feeling sure,seeing as he is such a distinguished author and all, that the characters expressing such banalities were straw men. I was counting on our hero, the narrator Stanley, to illustrate the quintessential wrongness of such contagious pessimism.

But wait a minute. I chose this particular book to read as an introduction to KA because it claimed on the back, to be about a middle aged parent dealing with a child's rough transition into 'the real world'. This does enter into the story,but in fact the title gives it away. This is never about Steve, the disturbed son who appears only peripherally,as a kind of subplot in Stanleys life. Stanley is far more concerned with maintaining the delicate balance between himself and the women in his life,and exonerating himself from any blame in his sons issues.

Of course, he doesnt even get that right,given his actual fear and loathing of all women,made tolerable only by attaching himself to women he can subdue Independence of spirit as shown by his first wife is regarded as being unhinged,selfish and deluded.

There were a few interesting points made,especially in the thread given to Steve's mysterious condition that eludes diagnosis. His absolutely frightening psychiatrist is well done,but any insight gleaned from KA's send up of the entire proffession is too meagre and disconnected to justify reading this book.

[John · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sad, but humorous in many places and insightful about women, who should not read this book. It should be remembered that it is written in the first person, which means that what the main character is saying and thinking is just that - the character, and not necessarily the author. Some reviewers have apparently missed that point.

Stanley Duke, a middle-aged Londoner, had a son, Steven, who developed schizophrenia. This forced him, against his preference, to spend more time with his ex-wife, a woman of doubtful mental stability herself. Every conversation with her was walking on thin ice, waiting for her to raise hell about what he said, how he said it, or what he didn't say.

This also required visits to a female psychiatrist who hated him so much she went out of her way to blame him for the son's illness and whose animosity caused her to lose her objectivity and endanger Steven's recovery. At the same time, Stanley had to work as advertising head at a newspaper, deal with a freeloading, cheapskate editor, and frequently encounter a former lover, now a friend. He also looked after Steven, befriended his ex-wife's new husband (who drank heavily and acted drunk when he's not to avoid confronting the ex-wife), and talked to his general practitioner and an older psychiatrist who had doubts about the female psychiatrist's technique. His new wife was helpful, but her mother and sister, who visited frequently, made no effort to conceal their disdain for him and his son.

[Realini Ionescu · Rating 5 out of 5]

Stanley and the Women by Kingsley Amis
10 out of 10


From a certain point on, it may not matter what others say about a Magnum opus you like, indeed, even if they consider it in fact a ‘mean little novel in every sense, sour, spare, and viciously well-organized’, as the son of the genius, Kingsley Amis, Martin Amis, who might well be the inspiration for Steve Duke, has said about this novel, making this reader further inclined to delay the reading of The Information or another of the books he has written…

The undersigned is ecstatic, reverent, barmy and in merriment whenever he reads a chef d’oeuvre by the one who is among the best five writers on his list, as proved by Lucky Jim, Girl, 20, Ending Up, That Uncertain Feeling, The Old Devils and Jake’s Thing (links for the notes on this magnum opera are provided at the end of this scribbling), all of which have offered a glorious entertainment, spectacular amusement, just as Stanley and the Women have just done and surely the all other works by Amis Sr. will do when the time comes to engage with them, soon enough Insha’Allah!
Stanley Duke is the narrator and hero – for feminists and surely others, he is the ultimate antihero in that he seems to have a bizarre, outmoded, chauvinistic take on the Women – who is going through a serious crisis after his son, Steve, comes to his house one evening, claiming to have walked all the way from the Victoria station, upon just returning from his girlfriend, Mandy, who is in Spain, a moment that is followed by an ever increasing tension, with signs that the young man is barmy, since he first throws massive quantities of water all over the mirror, the floor, then breaks the glass and soon after, the television set in his mother’s house and then the mad behavior becomes the norm.

The main character is married to Susan, a woman that appears normal, kind, understanding, patient in the first place, but would become more complex, until revelations about her past conduct expose a very different personage, one that does not stand competition and has to have her way – so much so that she would stop going to school to be tutored in private and at one moment, would throw a bottle of champagne thorough the window, to explode on the street – and while for some time she supports her spouse in his efforts to cope with the mad manifestations of her stepson, the situation would take a dramatic turn, once the husband states that the priority at that moment is Steve and his illness.
When a nadir is reached, after Steve takes Herzog from the bookshelves, torns the cover, plays Mahler at an absurdly loud volume, becomes violent at his mother, Nowell, the father brings in doctor Nash, a reasonable man – though he shares a very negative view on women with the main character – and this one has the disturbed son diagnosed with schizophrenia – modified later as schizophrenic syndrome – committed to a hospital, where he is under the supervision of a bizarre, unhinged woman, Trish Collings, that takes some inappropriate decisions, eventually threatening to release the patient if the parent challenges her in what is the most extreme malpractice.

Even when dealing with traumatic, catastrophic events, Kingsley Amis has the unique, unparalleled humor and writes that ‘there was no sign of Steve…like pools of blood or blazing furniture…the nearest thing would have been an award –winning Mexican movie made in black and white on purpose and called Las something…you’ve got good and bad in every crowd. You know, like Germans…I thought you took him off his drugs and he tried to join the Arab Secret Service, went up a tree to insulate himself from blokes trying to read his mind with radio waves and went for his mother in law with a knife…”
Indeed, the trajectory of the rambling son is dramatic, for after the initial annoying, disturbing sequence of events, Stanley is called by a police superintendent at the Embassy of a fictional Arab state, where Steve has tried to offer some information on the Israeli intelligence agents – previously the deranged character had been ranting about Jewish conspiracies – but when his statements have proved wrong, some scuffle ensued, though as to what had happened the British official has a different version from what the foreigner had suggested, the result is that the boy has a black eye and had been apparently beaten in the embassy…

One night, the hero is off on some unexpected adventure with his editor, during which he meets with the husband of his first wife, Bert Hutchinson, who proves to have a different personality from what we, readers and narrator, had been led to think he has, for when at home, he explains that there are only two possibilities, ‘to be right or happy’, he is either drunk or pretends to be, to avoid clashing with Nowell, the woman who had apparently left Stanley and married Bert in order to get acting parts, which would be available given that her second spouse is in television, but when that scenario would not prove to have basis in reality, the relationship soured and the husband plays drunk all the time when he is not totally inebriated, to avoid…confusion.
The Women in the magnum opus are depicted with cynicism and there are some quotes that make the antihero a complex character…’how wrapped in themselves females are…she was lucky, I forgot to bring the flame thrower with me…women are like Russians, if you do exactly what they wanted, you are promoting the cause of peace, being constructive and realistic, but if you ever stood up to them, you are pursuing imperialistic designs and interfering in their internal affairs…(we obviously dislike the comment on women, but on the Russians…) …

One comment appears to be more understanding…’the trouble is we want to fuck them, the pretty ones I mean and imagine it happening to you, everyone wanting to fuck you wherever you go and being ready to pay for you if your father stopped doing that, you’d have to be pretty tough to stand up to that…”
Some links: http://realini.blogspot.com/2018/07/g...
http://realini.blogspot.com/2019/05/t...
http://realini.blogspot.com/2018/07/l...
http://realini.blogspot.com/ for the rest

[André van Dijk]

In de memoires van Martin Amis (Experience, 2000) wordt de moeizame verhouding met zijn vader Kingsley beschreven en tegelijk een openhartige blik op het literaire werk van de oude meester geworpen. Vrouw en vijand 'lag verstikkend dicht tegen het pijnrooster aan. Ik voelde bij Kingsley dat zijn evenwicht zoek was'. Dat mag een typisch Brits understatement genoemd worden, want zonder kromme tenen is deze curieuze roman niet door te komen. In zijn weliswaar prachtig doorwrochte schrijfstijl worden we in de wereld van Stanley Duke geplaatst, verkoper van advertentieruimte bij een grote krant en voor de tweede maal getrouwd: een mannetjesputter met het liefst doorlopend een borrel in de hand. Als zijn zoon wordt opgenomen in een psychiatrische kliniek raakt Stanley de greep kwijt op zijn vooringenomen zekerheden omtrent de vrouwen om hem heen: zijn echtgenote, zijn eerste vrouw en de behandelend arts. Kingsley Amis stopt het hoofd van Stanley vol met gedachten die anno 2014 menig wenkbrauw doen fronsen en voor een overload aan boze kritieken op internet hebben gezorgd. Misogyn is de meestgebruikte kwalificatie...

[Stephen · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is Amis's view of how a man from South London lives in
the 80's London, emphasizing his relationships with various
women: his current wife, his ex-wife, a doctor in charge of
treating his son for madness, etc. Since Amis was himself from
South London, one may wonder if this is auto-biographical.
In any event, Amis is writing about a world he knew well
and writing very well indeed. None of the women is perfect,
but the same can be said of the men. The story does not
resolve all of the complications of the plot. Actually
the narration ends at some point, and the reader can only
guess how these characters will continue to get on in life.
Maybe Amis wrote a sequel? Even if not, it is a good story,
though those who want everything wrapped up by the last
page should look elsewhere.

[Dan Honeywell · Rating 4 out of 5]

For such a depressing topic there sure are plenty of very funny moments and lines. The party on the barge is quite funny. Then there's this bit, as an example, when Stanley is going to visit his son in the mental hospital, for your enjoyment:

...I turned the corner to find that an ambulance had drawn up outside the entrance and the two crewmen were helping down an old fellow who going on like a madman in a Bela Lugosi movie. Shock-headed, wild-eyed, wrapped in a grey blanket, he was spreading his hands jerkily about in front of him as he shuffled forward, not actually screaming but crying out in a high wordless voice. The men told him he was fine and doing great. I was trying to look like a piece of the wall and had no idea how he saw me, but he did, and swung and swayed round...

[Jorn Barger · Rating 4 out of 5]

A tad misogynistic.

[Dini · Rating 5 out of 5]

hilarious. misogynistic. fab.

[Kelly · Rating 3 out of 5]

My nineteenth Amis book, and the first one that I've considered calling "misogynist." The final pages are truly offensive, and every woman save one comes off as absolutely unbalanced.

[Lindsey]

What a piece of garbage. As misogynistic as Portnoy's Complaint, (the last woman-hating book I read) but without the fun writing and zaniness.

[Todd · Rating 4 out of 5]

Another brilliant book by Amis. It's remarkable that his books are so incredibly hilarious but underneath it all is a real sadness or melancholy.

[Richard Ballam · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a deeply funny book provided that you don't take the misogyny at face value. Most of the male characters are pretty unsympathetic as well.

[Ine · Rating 3 out of 5]

"'They say people go on getting married to the same person time after time,' I said. 'Well men certainly do. There isn't another other sex.'"

[Lindsay · Rating 2 out of 5]

This winds up as the common male answer to feminism, pre-Venus/Mars. The style feels dated, but it is Amis, and therefore worth of reading.

[Lucy Fisher · Rating 4 out of 5]

I reread this novel about every decade, hoping to find out more about the characters - but failing. It's a puzzle. This time I was struck more by the class angle, and the dreadful cliches ground out by Susan's mother and sister who can't see good in anybody and think the country is going to hell in a handcart. I'd like to think that Amis is being very clever - that the theme of the book is that nobody is what they seem.

Since nobody else has reviewed this book I'd better give a brief summary. Stanley is a South London geezer married to a "lady". He works in the advertising department of a newspaper; she works on the literary pages of another. They're childless, but he has a son, Steven, from a previous marriage to actress Nowell, now married to Bert. One evening Steve turns up obviously unwell, and becomes progressively more deranged and unpredictable. A lot of the action is taken up by Stanley's struggles with the hospital and its dodgy doctor, Trish Collings. Lindsay, a previous girlfriend, pops up to show support.

Amis does Stanley's voice very well. He's not a literary man, but he'd do fine as a motoring correspondent (which is the job he ends up with). His beloved car is not described (is it vintage, or just expensive?). But is he a Mary Sue? Too many women tell him how lovely he is. His concern for his son seems real enough, and his love for Susan, his wife, but he's an alcoholic. He goes on and on about drinking, and apparently drinks all day. How does he hold down a job? Though when he gets the motoring correspondent job, he tells himself he'll have to drink less now. (By this time in his life Amis was an alcoholic.)

I want to find more depth in Nowell. We see her through the eyes of Stanley and Bert: a neurotic woman, self-centred, egotistic, a failed actress, a mass of affectations. (Though the photos up in her "den" seem proof of a decent enough career.) Bert picks on the fact that if she's doing something requiring concentration, like sewing, she can't bear to have a man in the room "because she thinks he'll tell her she's doing it all wrong". Well, look at that from her point of view for a moment. Haven't we met those men? And when she comes round to talk Steve down from the tree she and Stanley have a moment of real connection.

Is Susan just another Nowell? Has Stanley failed to notice because he is so chuffed "to have a wife who talks like that"? Poor Dr Nash clearly has a terrible home life. But he just says "one has to be married". Harry, the editor, is too mean to get married or even have a proper girlfriend. But when he moves to South Africa he's going to invent a wife who died long ago because he thinks it'll make people friendlier.

Trish Collings is a caricature and Lindsey a deus ex machina. But maybe the women have a reason for being so furious with the men in their lives. What about Cliff's girlfriends and drinking habits, for example?

It's a bit glib to write Amis off as "misogynist" or "misanthropic". Sometimes his books, while being brilliant and readable novels full of social comment, seem to be a plea to be allowed to get away with it all. Especially infidelity and heavy drinking. Yes, the repressive morality of his youth was wrong, but he doesn't seem to have replaced it with anything.

Or is he really playing a double game here? I don't think so, but can't be totally sure.

It has just struck me (rather late) that all the women are seen only through the eyes of men, mainly Stanley. They never get a chance to speak for themselves.

And it never occurs to Stanley or Cliff that women's behaviour might be a response to men's behaviour. Men – they're so clever, aren't they?

[Michael Compton · Rating 3 out of 5]

What is to be done with a book like this? It is impeccably written and laugh-out-loud funny at times, and yet it is so thoroughly misogynistic, from first to last, that I was tempted several times to chuck it and move on to something else. My first hint at trouble were the FIVE blurbs on the jacket, all by stodgy old men named Malcolm or Auberon or some such, and all writing for stodgy old publications with words like Times or Mail in the title. The narrator is an unreliable Old Boy whose comfortable life goes to pot when his young adult son returns home exhibiting all the symptoms of schizophrenia. I recall reading a story about schizophrenia by Martin Amis, so the family may have some experience with the illness, which is given a realistic and poignant treatment. The parents are woefully unequipped to cope. But as the title suggests, that is not what the story is about. There is a writer wife, an actress ex-wife, a "work wife," and a bizarre female psychiatrist, apparently modeled on a real person. I can imagine a book in which women are endlessly raked over the coals by a clueless stiff and his clueless friends and associates, in which the men's oafishness is so over-the-top that some other truth is revealed. Many writers have pulled off such tightrope acts. The problem here is that the women are all so objectively awful that we get almost no indication that the men may not be 100% correct in their views. Incredibly, this throwback to the 1950s was published in 1985. Martin himself described his ol' dad's book as "a mean little novel in every sense," and I am inclined to agree.

[Alida Hanson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wow. It's interesting to read a book like this, by an author who was revered in the 50s through the 80s, and see just how much social attitudes have changed over time. Amis is the master of deadpan understated British satire, and I laughed out loud at one scene in particular, a houseboat party where everyone gets sick. The absurd premise of the book: Stanley's son is diagnosed with acute schizoaffective disorder but to Stanley, the main deal is how the women in his life either help or torture him during this, ahem, inconvenient episode. Plus there are endless meetings in pubs and lots of whisky, sherry and wine drinking.

Lots of racist and stereotypical representations of Jews and Arabs, and too much anger towards women. And I mean, wow, scary amounts of anger towards women. Maybe I didn't get the joke?

Giving it four stars for being among the highest examples of British satire of its kind but wow--did not age well!!!

[SHOBHA MENON · Rating 1 out of 5]

First published in 1984. a book of misogynism. Stanley Duke, an advertising executive, whose cosy world with his second wife collapses with the sudden appearance of his son, Steve , who has schizophrenia. Stanley appears as a dunkard who needs a drink every time a crises happens. The book details his relationship with 4 women- his present wide Susan, his first wife Nowell, his past girlfriend Lindsey with whom he has an affair again, Steve's psychiatrust Collings. The character is weak and his feelings for each of them are ambivalent. The author portrays him as an attractive man to whome women are attracted. Well, his actions actually makes him out to be a weak man. The other male characters have their biased opinions about women in general. Finally, it appears the wife is mad not the son. I found the book very disjointed. Wished I had not read it.

[Gerald · Rating 3 out of 5]

I finished this book but didn't really get on with it that well and was glad to get it over with in the end.

I didn't really engage with the main character or any of the others for that matter. That said, it was quite amusing but at times it felt very dated, not because of the outdated ideas and philosophies as such but more in a general sort of way (although many of the views expressed and language used by the characters would indeed be considered obsolete by today's standards).

The story wasn't great either although I guess the story was just the vehicle for the characters in this book but I found the story quite weak and not particularly interesting. If I don't stop writing, I will downgrade it to a two star!!

[Jon · Rating 2 out of 5]

Stanley and the Women, at first, seems to be more about a father dealing with his son's schizophrenia and the cant of a certain class of psychologist. Mixed in is a kind of mad men boozy marketing set engaged in questionable but pretty entertaining behavior. But that isn't the focus. Instead, it ends in a misogynistic take that boils down to "bitches be crazy." Not great.

[Paavo Ojala · Rating 5 out of 5]

Funny and sharply, even cruelly compassionate look at the life of Stanley and women around him, when his son gets sick. Like a movie by Alexander Payne. I wish Payne would make a movie-adaption of this.

[Ravanagh Allan · Rating 2 out of 5]

They say the drink got to Amis. There is certainly only one ‘Lucky Jim’! It’s all downhill from there.

I had heard it was misogynistic, and began it eagerly; but only the Cancel Mob could think it so — I was bitterly disappointed.

[Lucas · Rating 5 out of 5]

In Kingsley Amis's "Stanley and the Women," we dive into a social comedy layered with raw, profound exploration of human relationships. This intriguing narrative deserves nothing less than a 5-star rating, as Amis masterfully blends his quintessential humour with intense scrutiny of gender roles.

The narrative follows Stanley Duke, a man thrust into an emotional storm as he grapples with his son's mental illness and navigates the intricate labyrinth of his relationships with the women in his life. Stanley's world is packed with Amis's trademark wit, delivering poignant humour that often catches you off-guard, making you laugh and contemplate in equal measures.

Amis paints a captivating portrait of Stanley, a character both sympathetic and frustrating in his ineptitude in handling the women in his life. Stanley's struggles offer a nuanced, honest, and sometimes troubling exploration of masculinity, with the character's cluelessness providing a lens through which we view his world.

The women in the novel, from Stanley's ex-wife to his current partner and the professional women he encounters, are no mere caricatures. They are complex, vivid, and diverse, each with her motivations, strengths, and weaknesses. Amis uses these characters to explore different facets of womanhood, all the while maintaining a light touch and a keen sense of the absurd.

"Stanley and the Women" is undeniably a product of its time, and while it can occasionally make for uncomfortable reading, it also provides an opportunity to reflect on societal changes and the evolving dynamics of gender relations. In true Amis style, the novel encourages us to question, ponder, and laugh at the follies of human nature, making it both a delightful read and a thought-provoking one.

With this novel, Amis once again confirms his status as a master of social comedy and insightful commentary. His sharp wit, combined with an acute understanding of human behaviour, makes "Stanley and the Women" a delightful exploration of the complexities of relationships. It's a 5-star read that will leave you chuckling, reflecting, and keen to delve further into the world of Kingsley Amis's other novels.

[Ceridwen Millington · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was a controversial book on release with its depictions of the battle between genders, but if anything it doesn't say a lot. The faulty perceptions of its characters are on full display and no one comes away unscathed, but it leans too much into the comic and is afraid to have dramatic heft.

[John M. · Rating 2 out of 5]

Not my cuppa.