One can only go so many years in the UK without reading any Kingsley Amis. And one can only work so many years in a univeristy without reading Lucky Jim.
A couple of months removed from the book, I'm now wondering what I was left with after I finished it. Turns out, not so much - the fact that the academic world doesn't seem to have changed that much over the past 60 years is interesting but not particularly surprising, and as for the humour I'm afraid it's a bit dated (or maybe I should learn to refer to my colleagues as "old chaps" and try to be more quintessentially British?) and, at the cost of sounding blasphemous, I'd pick a lighthearted David Nicholls novel over Lucky Jim if all I need is a bit of fun.
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