| By Jon Surtees Will Self is clearly a very clever man. Will Self enjoys being a very clever man. Will Self enjoys intimidating people by being very clever. These are the three overriding impressions left by this evening at the Oxford Union, part of the Sunday Times Oxford Literary Festival. After a slightly snivelling introduction from a local Professor of English, Self lopes to the podium, clad spartanly in an iconoclastic leather jacket and assumes a lackadaisical posture, leaning on the podium as if he is on a terrace at the old Manor Ground. He then proceeds to read an excellent short story entitled, 'Conversations with Aud', in a manner which makes a question he receives later on about his 'authors voice' very relevant. After fielding a further flurry of questions, occasionally with thinly disguised disdain, he stalks out of the chamber to participate in that most tiring of an authors tasks, the ritual book signing. The problem with Will Self is he enjoys being 'Will Self' far too much. When reading his prose it is impossible not to hear the drooling voice of the author through every word. His television appearances only serve to allow him to extend this persona, largely through the medium of complaint. Tonight he receives a question about the BBC 2 series, 'Grumpy Old Men' and uses it as an excuse to extemporise on his current crop of petty irritations. There is nothing essentially wrong with 'Will Self', he is an extremely lucid and entertaining speaker and possesses a dry wit second to few. However, it would be nice occasionally to find what truly lies beneath the surface of his books, unless it is all just one big post-modern joke that he and Martin Amis find terribly funny.
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