I can admit when I'm wrong. It's not the same as being gracious in defeat, as I did scream obscenities (using my "inside my head" voice) when that tweet came through from the Booker people, with whom I'd been tweeting back and forth during Peter What's His Face's pre-announcement speech, but it's as close as I get.
It also changes my opinion not one whit; that award belonged to Will Self.
This morning I still want to hug Self and commiserate. I hope he realizes the truth, that this is no reflection on him or his writing. I'm sure he does. Not saying he's happy about it. Who would be?
I'm sure BUTB is a fine example of historical fiction. I'm making my third attempt on Wolf Hall and will read my review copy of BUTB after. But I am most distinctly NOT happy.
It's over and I'm glad of it.