However, it doesn't read that way: his portrayals of this average writer and his acceptance by the wider literary culture of the time seem ruthless. Maugham suggests that through his own career he has an understanding of the possibly conflicting goals of artistic integrity and public acclaim, and that his feelings for Kear are of empathy rather than condemnation. Kear's success as a writer has derived more from his ability to market himself and his books, than from any literary talent: he works diligently and consistently, is charming with the critics, and knows how to keep himself in the public's mind. The narrator Willie Ashenden knew Driffield during his youth, while Alroy Kear has been carefully chosen by Driffield's widow to write an acceptable biography, and he hopes for Ashenden's help. In his story two writers reflect on the life of a third recently deceased and more successful writer named Edward Driffield. I can believe that this must at least partly be true. Both copies are prefaced by Maugham's explanation of the story's inspiration, and his firm insistence that despite what others may have perceived, the work is largely autobiographical. The first thing you learn of Cakes and Ale is that its publication caused something of a controversy.

And so instead I have settled myself in an English pub by Bristol's river front with a glass of red wine and a hope that I can find a quiet moment to collect my thoughts on this book which I loved reading. It was lovely as an outsider to observe the communal feeling of friendly rivalry and shared excitement. I had planned to write this post during the train journey from Hereford to Bristol this morning, but instead found myself squeezed onto a train filled with people sporting either red jerseys or kilts, all heading to Cardiff for a Rugby match between Wales and Scotland. It has been exciting and exhausting and unexpected.

Everything I have experienced has been novel and distracting everywhere I have travelled there have been friendly people eager to talk. While reading this book I've travelled to Amsterdam and across to Newcastle, Chester, Liverpool, and through Wales, ending up this morning in Bristol. I am finding that this life of travelling about searching for books doesn't really lend itself to concentrated reading or deep reflection.

Cakes and ale maugham