Jilly Cooper

Her romances were so outrageously readable that she created her own category, bewitching generations of readers

- By Zoe Williams

Jilly Cooper, who has died at the age of 88, sold 11m copies of her books over her half-century of writing. Beloved of anyone with any sense over a certain age (45), she was introduced to a new generation last year with the Disney+ adaptation of Rivals.

Cooper purists would have preferred to watch the Rutshire chronicles in order: starting with Riders, published in 1985, in which Rupert Campbell-Black - cad, heartbreaker, rider - is introduced. But what was striking about seeing Rivals as a box set was how well Cooper's universe had aged. The chronicles distilled the 80s: the shoulder pads and puffball skirts; the obsession with class, aristocrats sneering at the nouveau riche; the sexual politics, with harassment and assault so routine they were practically characters in their own right.

Cooper had a humanity and an observational intelligence that you maybe wouldn't guess from listening to her speak. Everyone, from the dog to the pony to her French exchange's brother, was always "absolutely sweet" - unless, that is, they were "absolutely divine".