The language of the reviewers - Ripple is taut, shrewd and clear, in the manner of George Orwell; L Monks' head is a junk shop of long words, which spews out phrases that sound like they must mean something but don't. What exactly is 'a fractured time digressive, symphonic epic' or a ' socio-hstoric corollary?' This is the linguistic equivalent of an exhibit consisting of a pile of bricks in an art gallery.
Ripple asks if Mr Self's book would have been published, let alone bought for a large amount of money, had it been submitted under the name Will Telf, and the answer is, Of course not. It would have been returned with a short letter, advising him to forget fiction. His novels continue to be published because publishing requires 'literary' stars, even if no one buys their books. I also doubt his stature as a journalist: he has never written or said anything original, but he is a master at saying not much in impenetrable language.