Philip Hensher’s 200-Year Novel History Hailed as a Critical Masterpiece

Philip Hensher’s new survey of British fiction, spanning more than two centuries from Daniel Defoe to Zadie Smith, has been praised as a rare piece of literary criticism that reads as pleasurably as the novels it examines. The book traces the evolution of the form from Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe in 1719 through to the turn of the millennium, combining scholarly rigour with the instincts of a working novelist. Reviewers describe it as a 600-page account that avoids academic dryness in favour of genuine narrative pleasure.

Hensher opens by arguing that a novel does more than simply narrate a good story — it becomes one.

a novel not only “tells a good story” but is a good story in itself

This framing sets the tone for a book that treats the history of fiction itself as a gripping tale of rivalry, reinvention and reputation, rather than a dry procession of set texts.

What makes this history different from other literary surveys?

Unlike the typical multi-author survey, which parcels out chapters to specialists covering discrete periods such as “Thomas Hardy” or “High Modernism,” Hensher writes the whole account himself, producing a continuous narrative of literary cause and effect rather than a series of disconnected academic silos. His own background as a practising novelist sharpens this approach, allowing him to explain technical choices — such as why certain chapters of Dickens’s Dombey and Son shift into the present tense, or how Henry James achieves free indirect speech in What Maisie Knew — with the authority of someone who has grappled with the same craft decisions.

How did commercial rivalry shape the early novel?

The book’s account of the mid-18th century centres on the very public feud between Samuel Richardson and Henry Fielding. Richardson published Pamela in 1740; Fielding responded with the biting parody Shamela in 1741, followed by the fuller inversion Joseph Andrews in 1742. Richardson, angered by what he saw as the lack of moral seriousness in Fielding’s Tom Jones of 1749, answered in turn with The History of Sir Charles Grandison in 1754.

Hensher is particularly detailed on the financial arrangements behind this literary sparring. Richardson had trained as a printer and retained ownership of his own copyrights, giving him the freedom to shape his work exactly as he wished — a liberty that produced Clarissa in 1748, an epistolary novel running to one million words. Fielding, meanwhile, benefited from a patron and printer willing to support even his more unconventional artistic decisions.

According to Penguin, Hensher frames the entire history not purely as a matter of changing literary style but as a story shaped by commercial publishing pressures and shifting readerships — a lens that runs through his treatment of Richardson and Fielding’s rivalry and recurs throughout the book.

Why did some authors suffer for their publishing choices?

Not every writer had such favourable arrangements. Jane Austen sold Pride and Prejudice to Thomas Egerton for a flat fee in 1812, having previously lost money on Sense and Sensibility after insisting on keeping the copyright and covering the printing costs herself. Under the new deal, Egerton had no incentive to invest beyond the bare minimum in production, and when Pride and Prejudice appeared in 1813 its tiny print and poor paper left some readers, as contemporaries described it, finding the book "almost unintelligible." Austen’s reputation eventually recovered, though it took until the 1940s for critical opinion to fully catch up with her achievement.

Which overlooked writers does the book rehabilitate?

One of the pleasures of Hensher’s account, according to the review, is his willingness to revisit authors whose reputations have faded unfairly. Hannah More, often dismissed as a moralising Sunday school figure, is reassessed as

a beautiful and graceful writer

while Tobias Smollett, frequently written off today as a joyless hack, is recast as a skilled craftsman with tight control over narrative voice. Arnold Bennett, whose reputation suffered after Virginia Woolf’s dismissive 1924 critique branded him dull, is restored to prominence as the author of The Old Wives’ Tale, published in 1908, which Hensher argues

ought to be acknowledged among the 20 greatest novels in English

Who does Hensher criticise, and on what grounds?

Hensher’s enthusiasm for rehabilitating some writers is matched by sharp criticism of others. Ann Radcliffe, whose gothic bestseller The Mysteries of Udolpho appeared in 1794, is described bluntly:

was (and remains) a simply terrible writer

DM Thomas, shortlisted for the Booker Prize in 1981 for The White Hotel, is judged

patently untalented

and David Lodge’s attempt at literary pastiche in Changing Places, published in 1975, is dismissed as

not up to the task

The review also credits Hensher with puncturing certain claims of originality made about literary experimentation between 1960 and 1980, arguing that many supposedly novel techniques from that period had earlier precedents — named characters going unnamed, for instance, appeared in Fanny Burney’s work as early as 1814, fragmentary collage was used by Evelyn Waugh in Vile Bodies in 1930, and self-reflexive commentary on the act of novel-writing traces back to Fielding.

Where does the history end, and why?

Hensher chooses to stop his narrative in the year 2000, closing with Zadie Smith and what he calls her

wonderful ear for speech

rather than attempting to assess more recent fiction. The reasoning given is that enough critical distance has not yet passed to properly judge contemporary work — a decision the review characterises as both prudent and fitting for a book otherwise notable for its confident, sweeping judgments.

What additional publishing details are known about the book?

According to Penguin's listing, the volume runs to 704 pages and is being released under Penguin’s Pelican imprint in both hardback and ebook formats in 2026. Separately, Bath Spa University's staff profile for Hensher had previously listed the work as forthcoming under the full title A History of the Novel in Britain, consistent with the book now under review.

The book’s interest in resurrecting underappreciated authors and questioning received literary hierarchies echoes themes explored elsewhere in coverage of contemporary writers reflecting on their own reading histories, including Saba Sams's account of the books and authors that shaped her own writing, which similarly ranges across generations of British fiction in weighing lasting literary influence.

Key Facts

• The book covers roughly 200 years of British fiction, from Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe in 1719 to Zadie Smith’s work around the year 2000.
• It is published under Penguin’s Pelican imprint, runs to 704 pages, and is available in hardback and ebook formats in 2026.
• Hensher frames the novel’s development around commercial publishing pressures and changing readerships, not just shifting literary style.
• The book reassesses previously overlooked writers including Hannah More, Tobias Smollett and Arnold Bennett.
• It closes deliberately at the year 2000, with Hensher arguing insufficient time has passed to critically judge more recent fiction.