In Small World, Lodge marries the pre-novelistic romance—knights errant, damsels in and out of distress, dragons to slay and foes to defeat, asking the right questions when they need asking—with the campus novel to produce a delightful farce in which he both skewers the modern academic’s propensity for trotting off to conferences and lecture tours and paints a sympathetic picture of some of the more humble players in the academic drama.

I don’t remember the university being all that much fun, but then I never finished my PhD, presented a variation on the same paper at a multitude of different conferences, or was seduced by an Italian Marxist who drives a Maserati. Clearly, I was in the wrong program. ( )

While packing to go to a recent professional conference, I remembered I had Small World on the shelf. The novel, one of David Lodge's delightful academic comedies, follows a number of professors and students as they fly off to ... literature conferences. So, a natural choice, and a good one, it turned out.

Small World is the second in Lodge's trilogy that began with Changing Places and ended with Nice Work, but it can be read in isolation. Our literary academics fly to destinations around the world, sometimes sumptuous, sometimes mean, where they always meet the same fellow professionals they met at previous conferences, who relate gossip from yet other conferences with more urgency than they discuss literary ideas. Lectures and conference sessions are there to be skipped, because the main point is the informal contacts to be made - jockeying for better jobs and breaking marriage vows seem to be the most popular of these. Lodge is himself an English professor, and knows this world well.

The year here is 1979, and academia is busily assimilating the critical approaches collectively called Theory. A new chair of literary studies will soon be announced, with no duties and the highest salary in academia. Its pursuit by an array of colorfully-drawn senior academics provides one of the novel's themes. The early-career academics are mainly represented by Persse McGarrigle. Attending conferences for the first time, he is a sexual virgin and the last English-speaking literary academic to hear about structuralism.

A certain ennui is felt by many. The problem seems to come straight from the top, where Prof. Kingfisher, literary critic supreme, struggles with both literal impotence and an inability to generate new ideas. We learn that Persse's name possibly derives from Percival; yes, Lodge is playing with Grail parallels. Persse's own Grail is the beautiful, elusive, and formidably well-read Angelica, who shows up at conferences with well-posed questions and leaves conferees wondering where she is from.

Lodge writes mainly from the viewpoint of the men; women have their say but we see less of their inner lives. The story's climax occurs, of course, at a Modern Language Association meeting. Lodge's wit provides more smiles than outright laughs, but provides plenty of both; I have only touched on some highlights here. ( )

I usually dislike novels with too many characters in them. It makes the story difficult to follow - especially if I read the book over a long period of time - often finding myself leafing back to check up on some character I do not remember. I also find that in many such novels most of the characters are under-developed and leave almost no lasting impression on the story or the reader. In this respect, David Lodge's Small World was a pleasant surprise.

Small World is not a long novel (just over 300 pages), yet it is crammed with lively and colourful characters, dozens of them in fact. As the name of the book suggests, the story takes place all over the world and Lodge succeeds in keeping the pace fast enough and the characters alive enough, so as not to lose the reader when jumping between locations and between parallel stories.

The book is about English professors "on the loose", trekking the globe in a a frenzy, attending conferences, mingling with colleagues and striking up relationships which are kindled and exstinguished at a mind-boggling pace. The cast of characters is truly heterogenous - in nationality (Italians, Americans, Brits, Germans, Japanese), in age (from retires professors to young and aspiring PhD students) and in personality (from haughty sadists to clueless buffoons).

Lodge pokes fun at the academic world and its rules, exposing the main protagonists of this lovely tale as normal human beings in search of love, compassion and social status. It is the second book in a trilogy; I read the first part, Changing Places, a few months ago (and I intend to read the third soon).

I found myself laughing out loud several times while reading this book and I fully agree with the observation on its cover that "Lodge combines John Updike's social observation with Philip Roth's uproarious humour". ( )

Definitely a good read. The book in its new academic version of the Arthurian "Fisher King" story is well written, very funny and extremely self reflexive. However, the many references to Academia and literary criticism might make the book especially enjoyable for everyone familiar with those fields.

Sequel to "Changing Places," this book follows the same characters—and many, many more—as they travel the world for a series of academic conferences. There is much amusement to be had in tracking the ways the various characters meet up (and often, *hook* up), and the whole thing is zany and hilarious and lots of fun, if a little less satisfying than "Places." Note: the cover of the 1984 British Penguin edition has an illustration of a bare-breasted woman bound by chains to the 'W' in "World"; this will make you incredibly popular with strange men who sit down next to you on the bus.