He's literary England's favourite Irishman.
When the Nobel committee awarded him that prize, the respectable media positively purred.
It couldn't have happened to a nicer fellow.So why did we look so glum, here in the inner sanctums of SNAKESKIN?
Why did we send e-mails to each other muttering: "But he's not actually very good..."?
Carvosso and Crespi try to explain why they believe the Nobel committee has made as big a blooper as it did a few years ago when the prize was given to that old windbag, William Golding.
That Samuel Beckett, now, he was an excellent choice...