Reading The Pursuit of Love from Nancy Mitford and it's very good. Though don't have time to go into it this morning because I require a rant.
If we need any proof of the inherent sexism of popular perceptions of the the literary establishment, here's one: hardly anybody talks about the fucking Mitford sisters anymore, and a pair of father-and-son turds like Martin and Kingsley Amis can still make it into both the broadsheets and the Daily Mail. Neither have done anything more exciting than be massive pricks and follow conventional literary lines, versus the Mitford sisters, who besides having two excellent writers in their ranks, fought in the Spanish Civil War and got interned due to fascistic tendencies during WWII and had an affair with the French military chief of staff and shot themselves over Hitler and lezzed it up and testified in front of the House of Un-American activities committee and and and . . .