Women's Prize for Fiction: Tall Poppy Syndrome? When Miranda Richardson, Chair of the judges for the Women's Prize for Fiction, said yesterday that she feared "tall poppy syndrome," and spoke out about the "hideous" British attitude to success, she was referring to the peculiar case of Hilary Mantel. Peculiar, because the problem she now presents for the judges - and it's implied, for the general public - is that if Mantel wins the Women's Prize with Bring Up the Bodies as well as the Man Booker and the Costa, it will somehow be improper. How dare she write a book worthy of three prizes - is that the question we're asking? I thought back with some amusement to a piece Mantel wrote two years ago, published in this paper. It was about how it felt to win the Man Booker, and she was brilliantly frank. The moment after she won for Wolf Hall, people recognised her in the streets. "Before the Man Booker," she wrote, "I had trouble being recognised by a bookseller when I was standing next to a stack of my own books." She had been working for decades, not selling much, not winning much. She wrote for 12 years before she published anything. By the time the big prize came round she thought - and this was the phrase we took for the original headline - "Hand it over. It's been long enough. That Mantel should have written another - and I think better - book since then and won the Man Booker again is culture's good fortune. That in the same short span she should have gone from being the ever-the-bridesmaid writer to being one who is resented when she wins would be hilarious were it not so distressing. The situation is absurd. But Mantel isn't the only poppy on the list to have been cut down. Are our memories so short that we've forgotten the backlash against the young Zadie Smith, whose recent novel NW is also a strong contender to win the Women's Prize this year? Smith has had a good week, landing on this shortlist and the Granta Best of Young British Novelists list in the space of a few hours. That she should have written four more books since hype threatened to cramp her style with the publication of White Teeth is a testament to her resilience. That those books are so good and so distinct from one another is a tribute to her discipline and literary ambition. NW is exceptional. I was surprised not to see it on the Man Booker shortlist (there were rumours of it having arrived before the judges so late in the day that their attentions were exhausted, but second-guessing the reasoning of prize judges is a fruitless and occasionally insulting business). Instead of worrying about whether Mantel should be given the prize, we should be concerned about what that worry itself means. Do we intend to suggest that no good books should be written, in case they commit the crime of coming to readers' attention? Do we want to send a message to aspiring novelists that they should curb their instinct to write well? Writing novels is hard enough, and the more those engaged in that process are supported, the better. The strong Women's Prize shortlist has given us cause to celebrate all of our best writers, whoever ends up winning.