At the Heart of Being Amiss

Martin Amis is dead. If you scan the various obits that will pop up when you Google the Englishman's name, it's astonishing at how repetitive they are about the late author. The phrase "Mick Jagger in literary form" is used again and again to describe the "enfant terrible", and how he "electrified" with his crafting of words into award winning, voice-driven novels.

Is it so very flattering to have someone, touted to be so distinctly himself in his works, described in such a lazy fashion? I would hate to surmise it's indicative of the dumbing down of journalism - or the need to explain to anyone under 50 who Amis was - but repeatedly citing him as an outspoken literary rock star kind of belabours the point.

Naturally, he was more than that calling card. His works are satirical, comical and dark, yet they speak to you on a suprisingly intimate level about the nature of the beast in us all. The man who once unthinkingly said that Muslims should suffer for their religion, was also the same man who wrote one of the most moving novels about the Holocaust. But it's not such a contradiction, if you think about it. The banality of evil is akin to the banality of ignorance, after all.

For me, Amis always felt a little like an impersonator - so maybe the "Mick Jagger" moniker hits home in more ways than one - but in his latter days, he was often caught trying to impersonate his 80s literary persona rather than anyone else's style. The problem was he often ran out of steam, and his novels showed that, too, always seemingly flagging midstream; and as a reader you waited for the man's second wind for his books to get going again. Even as he astonished you, Amis could bore you.

Arguably, that persona came about when in 1984 the literary genius published one of his most popular novels, Money. The experience that inspired it happened in 1980, when Amis wrote the screenplay for Saturn 3, a UK science fiction feature starring Kirk Douglas, and a dismal flop. Instead of a sci-fi classic, it ended up feeling like a fifties B-grade monster movie. A very polished one, but a B-grade movie nevertheless.

Like that movie, if I were to sum up Amis, it would be "flawed but with fantastic ideas". And for all his biting wit and dance with the macabre, he was surprisingly tender. He may have had the swagger of Jagger, but underneath it was a compassionate heart. Having made a throwaway comment about Muslims, he was quick to show regret over his remarks.

What I really loved about Amis, however, was his friendship with Christopher Hitchens, the British-American journalist, and how their public disputes (especially in regards to Communism) were never serious enough to dent their bromance. When Hitchens died, Amis gave his eulogy. Both died from the same disease.

Both men also remind me how if there is one thing any study (or student) of life shows us is that we are not in control; control is temporary, it is illusory. The attempt to grasp the mysterious origins of life, and to better understand the human experience of it, is not only commendable but essential. However, pasting labels from our so-called discoveries, like little post-it notes all over existence, is a waste of time.

The wisdom to accept the futility of trying to control the chaos of existence comes first by answering a question with a question. What is the meaning of life? Well, why do you want to know? Will it add meaning to your own? Knowing people as I do - thanks to Amis et al - I don't think that is the main reason. It is just another method of control. It's said that it's in our nature to name things and thus attribute meaning to them, but really, when we name a thing, we are also claiming ownership of it.

Attaching labels to existence is futile. Not only futile, but unnecessary. You see, if there is no grand meaning, then in the absence of a grand design, you can ascribe any meaning you want to your own life. Amis tried to do that. In this way, it's you that gives your life the meaning you're searching for, or it's your life that gives you meaning. Amis' life was the shelf he left behind with his books on it.

To explain the need in ourselves to be controlling, or to gain the power to control others, one need look no further than the characters in an Amis novel. And if we should still need to do so, possibly the best way to describe existence is the best way to describe Amis: Flawed, but with fantastic ideas.

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