The tone of the novel is faulty from the start. There’s an opportunity to move away from 1980s Band Aid-type stereotypes and show the strength and independence of the townspeople but instead each of the narrator’s many trips to the village is littered with condescension, both to the Africans and to the reader, and little of substance takes place in the scenes anyway. This frustrating and desperately worthy novel seems uncertain whether it’s intended as a criticism of the west’s attitude towards the African continent or a celebration of life there. And just in case Smith worries that she's being too subtle and the reader doesn't get who she's talking about, Aimee's most famous album is not called Ray of Light, but the completely unrelated Illuminated. And most significantly she's personal assistant to a globetrotting international superstar, a one-named singer called Aimee, who mixes her musical work with fashion shows, photography and the patronisation of a small African village where she builds a school – for girls only – and showers money on the inhabitants (well, the female inhabitants) before shelling out a fortune to adopt a baby and bring her back to the West for a supposedly better life. She's the daughter to a neglectful, impoverished mother who's desperate to educate herself and become a political force in London. The unnamed narrator of Swing Time lives essentially through others: she's the childhood friend of aspiring dancer Tracey, who dreams of starring in West End musicals but is continually held back.

It’s hard to think of someone who fits this description better than Madonna who, although not a character in Zadie Smith’s fifth novel, remains the defining presence throughout.

There are exceptions to this rule, of course, those bands and singers who continually reinvent themselves, creating enough original work to transcend their art and become cultural icons. One of the advantages of being a writer over a musician is that, for the most part, writers are expected to produce more interesting work as they grow older while music is really a young person’s game.

Swing Time by Zadie Smith