• Paul Bailey
  • Michael Baldwin
  • Iain Banks
  • John Banville
  • Richard Barber
  • Juliet Barker
  • Pat Barker CBE
  • Sebastian Barker
  • Frank Barlow CBE FBA FRHistS
  • Correlli Barnett CBE
  • Sebastian Barry
  • Stan Barstow
  • Jacques Barzun
  • Susan Bassnett
  • Jonathan Bate CBE FBA
  • Nina Bawden CBE
  • Martin Bax
  • John Bayley CBE FBA
  • C.A. Bayly FBA FRHistS
  • Dame Gillian Beer FBA
  • Antony Beevor
  • Rosalind Belben
  • Anne Olivier Bell
  • Bernard Bergonzi
  • Elizabeth Berridge
  • Christopher Bigsby
  • Dea Birkett
  • Julia Blackburn
  • Malorie Blackman
  • Ronald Blythe, Benson Medallist
  • James T. Boulton FBA
  • William Boyd CBE
  • Melvyn Bragg (Lord Bragg)
  • Piers Brendon
  • Raymond Briggs
  • Robin Briggs
  • Michael Brock CBE FRHistS
  • Hugh Brogan
  • Anita Brookner CBE
  • Alan Brownjohn
  • James Buchan
  • Brian Burland
  • John Burnside
  • Marilyn Butler FBA
  • A.S. Byatt (Dame Antonia Byatt)

Amit Chaudhuri – Year of election 2009

Amit Chaudhuri

Amit Chaudhuri’s first novel, A Strange and Sublime Address, published in 1991, won a Betty Trask Award and a Commonwealth Writers Prize. His second, Afternoon Raag, won the Encore Award, and his fifth, The Immortals, appeared in March this year. He is also a musician – a singer in the Hindustani classical tradition who four years ago established This Is Not Fusion, a project in experimental music combining jazz, blues and rock with the Indian raga. He is Professor of Contemporary Literature at the University of East Anglia and was the first Indian to serve as a judge on the Man Booker International Prize.

“My first ambition,” he says, “was to be a poet, and not a novelist. But that it was the glamour of the commonplace and the music of the sentence itself that were important to me – more important than character, psychology, resolution, or narrative – came to me only during my miserable years as an undergraduate in London in the early Eighties. These seemingly Manichean dichotomies continue to govern my life in ways I couldn’t have foreseen: poetry and prose; music and language; criticism and the ‘creative’ – so that hiding, or escaping, from one part of myself is also a release into, and annexation of, another part. Eliot’s ‘escape from the personality’ was never wholly necessary or possible; since the personality itself turned out be such an unexpected labyrinth.”