With Lucky Jim Kingsley Amis established himself as the bad boy of
twentieth-century British letters. Later he became famous as another
kind of bad boy, an inveterate boozer, a red-faced scourge of political
correctness. He was consistent throughout in being a committed enemy of
any form of "right thinking," which helped to make him one of the most
consistently unconventional and exploratory writers of his day, a master
of classical English prose who was unafraid to apply himself to literary
genres all too often dismissed as "low." Science fiction, the spy story,
the ghost story were all grist for Amis's mill, and nowhere is the
experimental spirit in which he worked, his will to test both reality
and the reader's imagination, more apparent than in his short stories.
These "woodchips from [his] workshop"--as he called them--are anything
but throwaway work. They are instead the essence of Amis, a brew that is
as tonic as it is intoxicating.