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I am off on an extended break; back beginning of September. Enjoy whatever summer sojourn you have!

It is not surprising to hear this year's , James Naughtie, saying that "we believe it to be one of the strongest lists in recent memory".

He is hardly likely to say it was anything but among the strongest etc. Every year, every chair of the judges makes claims for the choices they alighted on. Prizes for books as for many areas of the arts are utterly subjective, yet strangely seductive, not just for writers, but for those who write about them, we journalists.

But it's not the case for all writers. I've heard that , whose new novel, A Week in December, is published in the autumn, didn't want his book submitted.

There is a savagely critical and funny scene in the novel about book prizes, by the way, and whether his book was or was not submitted, it has set me thinking about the literary novel and prizes and the attendant madness that ensues around them.

Faulks is of course a very popular novelist and doesn't necessarily need prizes for his books to become better known, though no doubt merely being on the long list, short list and of course winning a prize such as the Booker helps sales, and can transform reputations.

But there are several previous winners who, while they may not have sunk without a trace, have hardly continued to make an impression with subsequent books.

During the last 10 years or so, Booker judges have veered towards the quirky, even though many of the short lists have included the literary grandees of our age. This year, there are a few first-time novelists, but it is a solidly establishment and mainstream type of list, with double winner, J M Coetzee in there, as is previous winner, A S Byatt; shortlisted before twice, but never won, is Colm Toibin and Hilary Mantel, whose latest book is recommended summer reading in many a publication recently, make a powerful group hoping to get to the shortlist.

The joker in the pack is already being identified as , the memoirs of Tarzan's chimp, Cheeta. I wonder if it will make it to the shortlist. Because if there is one thing the Booker is associated with, it is that weird notion, the literary novel, and in bookish circles this is a hornets' nest.

, a very popular novelist, who doesn't need the publicity created by the Booker, has in recent years been viciously critical of the prize and the idea that novels can only be defined as literary because of an inherent intelligence that makes them difficult to read.

I would though, argue with his contention that the literary greats of the 19th Century, Dickens, Thackeray, Trollope and Eliot would have laughed at the pretensions of the Booker.

It is, of course, true that those novelists saw one of their prime aims as wanting to entertain, but they would no doubt have looked on their work as being far superior to the penny dreadfuls and other sensational literature of their age.

And today, there are novels that people think they should read because they are shorlitsted for prizes or have won them. The success of has blown a lot of that out of the water, and publishers have taken the programme seriously as they have watched it transform sales, and give potential audiences of books guidance over what they should buy.

The brand still exists, even though Richard and Judy's book club doesn't as such. In that sense, perhaps that is what the Booker has become, little more than a brand.

News that the BFI film festival in London this autumn will open with the world premiere of Wes Anderson's first animated film, The Fantastic Mr Fox, is yet another indication of the extent to which serious film festivals are embracing animation.

Cannes opened with an animation for the first time in its history this year and in early September, in Venice, John Lasseter of Pixar will be honoured with a lifetime achievement award. Lasseter has become a symbol for all that is inventive in this medium, but I was amused to read recently that he admits that when the boys and girls at Pixar run out of ideas, they re-charge their imaginations by watching Japanese animation and in particular, the work of the legendary Hayao Miyazaki.

Worth noting also that Wes Anderson has opted for the very slow, classic handmade stop motion or frame by frame technique to tell the story of the best-selling children's book by Roald Dahl.

And he has a stellar cast list for the voices. George Clooney is Mr Fox and Meryl Streep is Mrs Fox; and he has Bill Murray, Michael Gambon, Willem Dafoe, Owen Wilson, Jarvis Cocker and Helen McCrory. Despite having one of the greatest of Dahl's children's tales to play with, Anderson tampers with the story, (only slightly though) and while purists might mind, it will no doubt be a big Autumn draw.

Animation has gone way beyond being children's entertainment only; it is big business and not just at the box office. It is a major employer in the creative industry. And endorsements on the serious film circuit add to its kudos, continued popularity and investment.

The news that Tony Hall has been confirmed as Chair of a new board prompts a few thoughts.

In him, the (LOCOG) has a tireless champion of the arts and if anyone can shed light on how the Olympiad will proceed from now on, it's him.

In addition to chairing the new board, he will also sit on the Board of Directors of LOCOG. How will he manage his new role with his other day job at the ? I don't doubt that he'll find a way, but with both being high profile, publicly accountable positions, I imagine there will be immense scrutiny.

The issues specifically relating to the Olympiad are to do with how the whole thing will work. Few would argue with the fact that the UK has a major opportunity to showcase the cultural sector when the eyes of the world will be on London for the three weeks of the in 2012.

But so much of what has already been said about the Cultural Olympiad smacks of art by committee and now we have a new structure, a Cultural Olympiad Board. It's no wonder those who care raise eyebrows. New structures cost money to run and create new layers of bureaucracy. These are not places where artistic endeavours naturally flourish.

The Cultural Olympiad has set itself very ambitious targets indeed. They want the Olympiad to change the way the games are seen from London 2012 onwards; they want to use the Games to transform attitudes to the arts in the UK. Many partnerships and collaborations have been forming ever since its launch last year, but what shape the Cultural Olympiad takes really starts with Tony Halls appointment.

A UK-wide search for City of Culture which will host the Turner Prize and the Brit awards, among others, in 2013, has been launched by the Culture Secretary Ben Bradshaw.

He says we have been too London-centric for too long in our cultural life. I am not sure who the "we" he is referring to is. It can't be the towns and cities outside the capital with flourishing cultural landscapes. Take Manchester, currently hosting its second international festival and has had some fantastic reviews of new work commissioned. And it can't be Gateshead, where at the Sage the Northern Sinfonia is celebrating its 2,000th performance later this month; Edinburgh is gearing up for its annual festival, including the book festival and Fringe, and that is to mention only three. They and other cities are surely not thinking that they are too London-centric. The comment could only come from someone speaking from a London-centric perspective.

Cities and towns all over the UK work to create interesting and stimulating cultural programming, and hundreds of people engage with the cultural offerings in their areas. Perhaps it is a criticism of the media, obsessing only over what happens in the capital.

Mr Bradshaw made this comment by way of launching a national competition to find the nation's first City of Culture. The success of Liverpool as European Capital of Culture, once it was finally spearheaded by TV producer and screenwriter Phil Redmond, resulted in the kind of figures politicians love to cite: 7,000 events; £800m of economic benefit to the Liverpool city region; 15 million visits to a cultural event or attraction.

Using culture as a regeneration tool is commonplace now, but the kind of engineering promised under this new initiative is to do with selling a brand. There is no extra money. The successful city, to be chosen in 2013, will be given the rights to use the UK City of Culture brand, and tailor it to their own city. The bids will be assessed in the context of a fitting follow on from the success of Liverpool and the Cultural Olympiad; given that the latter continues to be mired in uncertainty doesn't bode well for this new initiative.

On the face of it, Antony Gormley's latest public work of art is pleasingly democratic and novel.

Giving the fourth plinth in London's Trafalgar Square - one of the most prestigious platforms for public sculpture - over to 2,400 individuals to stand on for an hour at a time, could be viewed as radical and innovative, and on one level it is. The counter view is that it is faddish; a gimmick and without artistic merit.

There is something moving about this latest project by Gormley, an artist who has carved out a stellar reputation for routinely filling landscapes with his art instead of having it inside galleries (though he has done that too).

The individuals who are standing on the plinth can do whatever they want, as long as it's legal. They have the National Gallery as their backdrop. And what could be more monumental than standing in Trafalgar Square, a place which embodies paying homage to the traditional type of military or establishment statue?

But what makes this project interesting is that it is anti-monumental; giving the plinth over to the ordinary man or woman places value and merit in elevating the ordinary. I know it will be the spectacular and the eccentric which will capture the headlines. Tomorrow, a scientist raising awareness of lack of clean water, will spend his hour dressed as a giant poo. But I must confess that the most interesting aspect of this project will be the ones who do nothing. Who stand, or sit and reflect.

The potential for profound transformation of some kind is great. And for the viewer too. What would you do with your plinth moment?

I have always thought the River Thames divided London, but a truly stunning view from the ninth floor of the multi-storey car park in Peckham Rye shows that it actually unites the city. The view has to be one of the few in the capital which allows you to see major landmarks from both sides of the river, from Canary Wharf and the Dome in the east, to the London Eye and the Houses of Parliament.

This sense of unity dawned on me as I looked at art by emerging young artists (all under the age of 30) in an exhibition called , curated by Hannah Barry. It is the third such exhibition in the car park, but the first since the success of the Peckham Pavilion at the Venice Biennale, which heralded this suburb's attempt to carve out a place for itself on the contemporary art scene.

The exhibition has some terrific pieces in it, from Hannah Barton and Xavier Poultney's huge black blocks - one with a central hole, and the other containing a fibre optic prism - which face each other and channel the setting sun to create a striking effect.

Another remarkable piece is called Broken Obelisk. James Balmforth's work does exactly what it says on the label, but you have to see it to believe it. And there will be many children who will want to destroy the pristine beauty of Bayly Shelton's piece, Rocks of Ages, Sands of Time.

The setting of a currently-unused car park is genius in itself, particularly as, in this third Bold Tendency, there are a bar and café attached. The unrivalled views alone should prompt people to flock there, but I think it is the art that should get people to the car park in Peckham.

Hannah Barry is a name to watch and I am certain that some of the artists she is championing will be on the verge of fame. If you think there is incongruity in the idea of interesting contemporary art in the place made famous by Del Boy in Only Fools and Horses, then consider the contrast of this: After I left this brilliant view, I wandered the streets of Peckham, and thought about the social conflict of recent years, knife crime and marginalised communities. I marvelled at shop after shop selling fresh meat and fish; vegetables from all over the world, and quick ways of sending money to Africa.

I wanted so much to believe that some of the people I encountered would make the journey up to the top of the car park to share that view and see a united city made real.