When I tried to winnow down my favourite books about fatherhood, it was a surprise to realise how many of the novels on my list were written by women. What is it with dudes and the domestic? Where did the idea come from that that part of life is dull, beneath artistic notice? We have Cyril Connolly to thank for the old edict that there is “no more sombre enemy of good art than the pram in the hallway”. I reject that. So, I think, would the authors of these five books, all of whom made good art from the pram.
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