There’s a select band of writers who, from the outset of their writing careers, manage to publish one fine novel after another. We could all suggest contenders, based on our reading preferences and experience. Many would argue for Austen or Dickens, say, authors for whom I admit a blind spot. I would choose the first five novels by William Golding. The composition of Lord of the Flies, The Inheritors, Pincher Martin, Free Fall and The Spire seems to me an unrivalled achievement. More obscure and largely out of print are the first five novels of Rex Warner. The Wild Goose Chase, The Professor, The Aerodrome, Why Was I Killed? and Men of Stones, form a hugely impressive sequence. These books have in common a quality that I admire, each is different from its predecessor. It’s a great joy as a reader to discover these sequences, reading them one by one and remaining spellbound.
More recently, Magnus Mills looked like he might be a genuine contender with the publication of his superb first and second efforts, The Restraint of Beasts and All Quiet on the Orient Express. They were darkly comic, gripping and quasi-philosophical novels. The publication of his third novel, Three to See the King, was a cause for great excitement for me. I was underwhelmed. I read each of his next three novels with an increasing sense of disappointment. They have their moments (The Scheme for Full Employment being the pick of the bunch, in my opinion) but they're not in the same league as his first two.
And then came Screwtop Thompson, quite possibly the slightest collection of stories I've ever read. I can't comprehend how this can come from the keyboard of the author who wrote Restraint of Beasts. Perhaps I'm missing something; I don't know.
How many more books does one read by an author, hoping for a return to form? This was the last book I read by Mills and it's a decade ago. And yet... His last three novels are in my to-read list; should I give them a go or cut my losses? First World problems...