David Lodge in conversation with Mark Lawson, Kings Place

Fascinated by the societal shifts of post-war England? Delighted by the on-campus scheming of Philip Swallow and Morris Zapp? Intrigued to here from one of the sharpest novelists writing today? Then head over to King’s Place, where David Lodge will discuss Quite A Good Time to be Born, a memoir covering the first forty years of his life.
A literary life
Said good time was 1935, in the midst of economic depression and on the verge of the Second World War. Then came decades of social and cultural transformation, providing ample material for one of the keenest observers in contemporary English letters. Raised in Brockley by a Catholic mother and a musical father, Lodge quickly became enraptured by literature, studying for both a BA and an MA in University College London. After an early marriage and some time teaching for the British Council, he took up a lectureship in the University of Birmingham where he wrote a PhD on the Oxford Movement. Here he met Malcolm Bradbury, a close friend and inspiration throughout his writing life. Remaining in Birmingham until 1987 with a brief spell in America, he devoted much of his time to fiction.
David Lodge: books and legacy
Lodge’s work singularly evokes the atmosphere of his lifetime. Debut The Picturegoers (1960) drew on his experiences growing up, while Ginger, You’re Barmy (1962) fictionalised his wartime national service. Several of his novels deal with Catholicism, making him an heir to both Evelyn Waugh and Graham Greene. But Lodge is perhaps best known for his satirical campus novels, especially the trilogy of Changing Places (1970), Small World (1984) and Nice Work (1988). Set partially in the dim city of Rummidge – a fictionalised version of Birmingham – they burlesque the academic world with a sharp satricial eye whilst remaining serious explorations of the nature of love and life. Recent works, including Author, Author (2004) and A Man of Parts (2011), have followed the lives of other writers. There can be few novelists in English better able to balance the serious with the playful, and even less able to manipulate literary history with such a light hand.