I am not one for the award winning books and their award winning authors. I like my books simple and comprehensible. Jhumpa Lahiri's Namesake and Interpreter of Maladies are definitely my cup of tea but Naipaul's 'The Magic Seeds' went off at a tangent no sooner than I had read the first few pages.

After 'Inheritance of Loss' and 'White Tiger', I had all but decided that award winners were just not me. And then I went and bought myself The Finkler Question on an impulse. I was bitterly regretting the impulse by the end of the first part. I only ploughed through the second half because of my commitment to the money I had spent on it.

And as I closed the book shut, I vowed, never again.

But after a Sunday totally devoid of any commitments and plans and plenty of time to think, I think that Jacobson may just have managed to reconcile me to the Bookers.

I felt the book was like alcohol, difficult to swallow, but once inside, a great feeling. I enjoyed the book in hindsight. Does that even make sense...?