Martin Amis and Satire

I read a Martin Amis novel for the first time this year, and so this interview with him caught my eye. It's super long, and interesting only in sections, but there were numerous times when I was reminded of Juvenal's (and to a lesser extent Horace's) satires. Here are a few bits that piqued my interest:

...the book is a kind of satire of contemporary England—a member of its underclass wins the lottery and enters its tabloid class. Satire is—I wonder how helpful it is as a category. It was once defined in apposition to irony, in that the satirist isn’t just looking at things ironically but militantly—he wants to change them, and intends to have an effect on the world. I think that category just doesn’t exist in literature. No novel has ever changed anything, as far as I can see. And the great satirists, like Swift and Dickens, tend to write about abuses and injustices that have already been partially corrected—you write about it after it’s over. I would say I’m an ironist not a satirist. All you do is you take existing tendencies and crank them up, just turn up the volume dial.

ranarum viscera numquam inspexi

After reading Juvenal's third satire, I have created a coat of arms for myself, with an appropriate sounding Latin motto true to the ancient dictum that quidquid Latine dicitur, altum videtur. I hope you like it. The motto comes from a passage in which Juvenal's friend explains that he is leaving Rome because he feels that Rome has been taken over by foreigners and those of lesser class and sophistication than himself, with no respect for the ancient history, customs and traditions of Rome. The relevant passage is below:

Quid Romae faciam? mentiri nescio; librum,
si malus est, nequeo laudare et poscere; motus
astrorum ignoro; funus promittere patris
nec volo nec possum; ranarum viscera numquam
inspexi.


What am I to do at Rome? I don't know how to lie. If a book is bad, I am unable to praise it and demand a copy for myself. I am ignorant of the motions of the stars. I neither want nor am able to promise the death of a father. I have never examined frogs' intestines.

(Juvenal Satire III.41-45)