Cultural amnesia anyone?

I've been slowly reducing a two-foot high pile of old TLSs; ripping out everything I might want to keep. The back page of the first I picked up featured a review of Clive James' memoirs by Christopher Hitchens. The first paragraph refers to James' aspiration "for a mass audience that would be large enough for his elite audience to despise". What happened to the truth at all costs? This copy was also first on the recycling pile.

After a while I took a break and looked at blogs. By coincidence, Conversational Reading was quoting James' latest, interminable review-essay on Exit Ghost:

In the last rumor I heard on the subject [of whether Roth is "in thrall to his virile member"], one of the most luxuriantly beautiful young Australian female film stars had thrown herself at Roth’s feet lightly clad — I mean she was lightly clad, not Roth’s feet — and demanded satisfaction.

And in the next paragraph:

Roth has been catnip for upmarket women all his life, and never not renowned for it. In London, when he lived there, Roth would enter a fashionable drawing room with Claire Bloom on his arm and you would wonder how he had got into the house without a band striking up "Hail to the Chief."

After a while I returned to the pile. Within minutes I opened an edition from February this year with a 5000-word headline review of The Life of Kingsley Amis. The subtitle sums up the review's theme: "Obsession with Kingsley Amis's private life has distorted appreciation of his work". Can you guess the name of the review's author?