WEEKS BEFORE British flash mobs were quickening to the rings of their cell phones, barking furiously in the steps of President George W. Bush as he visited London, the Booker Prize committee sent its own signal regarding the United States of America. But instead of a thousand shouts and protest signs, the judges condensed their message into three words: “Vernon God Little.”
That’s the title of this year’s Booker Prize winner, written by DBC Pierre, the nom de plume of Australian writer Peter Finlay. His bio says he “divided most of the first twenty-three years of his life between Texas and Mexico City.” But Finlay’s story is far more colorful than that. A confessed former drug addict and con-man, the 42-year-old first-time novelist tells the British media he’s using his prize of £50,000 to pay back his old friend Robert Lenton, an American painter Finlay knew in Spain, whose home Finlay sold only to keep the money for himself. Standing in line behind Lenton are many other friends and suckers awaiting their turn.
