Just Finished Reading: The Beats – A Very Short Introduction by David Sterritt (FP: 2013) [108pp] 

I've encountered 'The Beats' on many occasions over the years – in movies, cultural histories and novels - and have even read a few things by them most notably On The Road by Jack Kerouac and, more recently, a booklet of poetry by Allen Ginsberg but have never really read anything about them until now. 

My initial thought that they were essential a precursor to the 'Hippies' on the late 1960's and into the 70's wasn't too far off the mark. The Beats were certainly rebels of their post-WW2 era and talked about and practiced 'free love' and drug use (although this was pre-LSD so the drugs of choice tended to be marijuana, cocaine and heroin) as well as breaking the taboo around homosexuality. The difference in their radical outlook from the Hippies that followed in their wake was that Beatniks tended to be more inward looking and less 'revolutionary' whilst Hippies tended to be much more political and looked to change society in general. 

Naturally this slim volume concentrated its focus on the big three Beats – Kerouac, Ginsberg and William S Burroughs. I was at least familiar with the existence of these three figures and was at least somewhat acquainted with their work – in that I knew of it! The other figures mentioned in this volume were universally new to me – Neal Cassady, Gergory Corso, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Diane di Prima and Gary Snyder. Potted biographies of everyone listed certainly helped me know more about them and appreciate their impact on the Movement. 

Much like the Hippies, the Beats tended to be into everything – novels, poetry, music (especially Jazz), art and film. Despite there being only an estimated 150 published authors/poets amongst them the Beats managed to punch well above their cultural weight in part due to the backlash against their countercultural drive. The horror stories (often either made up or exaggerated – although sometimes not!) helped to cement their cool image with youths looking for something to rebel against. A fairly interesting look at an often-forgotten countercultural movement. Reasonable.  

Just Finished Reading: Wanderers – A History of Women Walking by Kerri Andrews (2020) [263pp] 

This was an ideal ‘coupling’ with my previous walking book, so I was more than a little pleased to pick it up for a song at my (excellent) local Charity shop. Covering the lives and walks of 10 famous female authors this was often an eye-opening read. The author is both a keen hillwalker and a senior lecturer in English Literature so had (both) feet in each camp.  

Of the 10 authors I’m afraid that I’d only heard of (and read) 3 of them – Virginia Woolf, Anais Nin and Cheryl Strayed. In my ignorance I hadn’t realised that the poet Woodsworth had a sister equally as obsessed in walking their local environment (especially in the Lake District) as he was. The others – Elizabeth Carter, Ellen Weeton, Sarah Stoddart Hazlitt, Harriet Martineau, Nan Shepherd and Linda Cracknell were all completely new to me. 

They were, to say the least, an INTERESTING bunch of women. Not only were many accomplished authors of their time they were also accomplished walkers much to the astonishment and exhaustion of male friends, family and the larger society. Women walking LONG distances, especially on their own, was viewed as quite bizarre – radical even. Despite this (or maybe a little because of it) they managed walking tours or eye-watering length in Scotland, the North of England or (in Cheryl Strayed’s case) the Pacific Crest Trail. 

One woman who particularly interested me was Ellen Weeton, an early 19th century Lancashire governess and hill climber. She was born in Upholland near Wigan which is where my sister presently lives and not too far from where I spent most of my formative years (11-23). Despite not having a private income (like so many of the other early examples in the book) she still managed to ‘bag’ numerous hills shaking off any male guides or company that might slow her down or prevent her from exploring mid-trek. She sounded like quite the formidable character! 

The only (slight) ‘criticism’ that I had with this was the sometimes-over-enthusiastic focus on a few of the listed women to the detriment of narrative flow. It's certainly forgivable but I felt that just a little more restraint would have helped tighten things up a bit. Apart from that (very) minor niggle I found myself liking this very much indeed. If you’re a walker, interested in rather eccentric people (there’s plenty in here for everyone), or want to delve into some of the other aspects of authors/poets lives then this is a book for you. Recommended. 

Just Finished Reading: Brolliology – A History of the Umbrella in Life and Literature by Marion Rankine (2017) [157pp] 

I have LONG maintained that anyone born in this country should, as part of their birth heritage, have a lifetime access to two things – a pair of Wellington boots (wellies) and an Umbrella (brolly). Personally, I gave up on brollies some years ago having finally lost yet another one by either leaving it on a bus or tube train or having a gust of wind blow it out of my hand or inside out completely destroying its delicate structure. 

Despite the fact that they seem to be archetypically British, the brolly is nothing of the sort. I was indeed surprised to learn that their first outing on our streets resulted in both anger and hoots of derision when first sported by Jonas Hanway in 18th century London. I knew that they had been around for a LONG time but I had no idea that they’d been around for much longer that I suspected or that their geographical reach was SO wide. Umbrellas, used mostly as parasols rather than rain-shields, have been in existence since civilisation itself from Egypt and the greater Middle East to South-East Asia, China, Japan and elsewhere. They were, by and large, marks of status and you could clearly identify the owners rank from the style, manufacture and even colour of the brolly. Indeed, some classes were effectively banned from using them.  

A particularly interesting aspect of this honestly delightful book was the authors focus on the iconography of the umbrella in literature – both Western and Oriental. Not only was the umbrella a potent symbol in some works but has been a central plot point in others. The act of losing, finding or searching for a lost umbrella crops up in a surprising number of novels (some of which I’ll definitely be hunting down). Sheltering under the protective arms of an umbrella can be the beginning of a romance or infidelity, not owning an umbrella can point to poverty or an absentmindedness that is irritating or endearing. Honestly, I never knew that such a ‘simple’ (actually quite complicated) tool had such cultural and symbolic significance. 

The author obviously has a deep love for this rather mundane object, and her passion certainly shines through in this quirky and delightful work. With illustrations and some of the authors photographs of lost and found umbrellas scattered throughout, I found myself amused, fascinated and intrigued by the subject. A total pleasure and definitely recommended as an unusual and, in many ways, comforting read. 

Just Finished Reading: Churchill & Orwell – The Fight for Freedom by Thomas E Ricks (FP: 2017) [270pp] 

It surprised me that two of the early 20th centuries icons never met. Although Orwell and Churchill ‘crossed paths’ - although never at the same time or place – they only read each other's works at a distance. Even more surprising, as the author points out, was the fact that we know of them at all. From an early age Winston liked to put himself into the middle of things, partially for the sheer thrill and (more importantly) in order to gain a public reputation that could be converted into electoral votes. He was in the thick of things – with bullets flying – on the Afghan border, South Africa (where he was captured and escaped from a POW camp) and Cuba. Interestingly, it was in New York 1931 (aged 57) where he was hit by a car and suffered several cracked ribs and a slashed skull. If the car had been going faster and the injuries had been worse then England would have been denied its iconic Prime Minister in its (and his) finest hour. Likewise, Orwell was shot in the throat (everyone in the area assumed he would be dead before they reached him or soon after) in Spain during the Civil War in 1937. Imagine a world without Homage to Catalonia, Animal Farm or 1984. Would anyone even know who George Orwell was today?   

Covering the two greats' lives and their formative years, this quite excellent look how their joint opposition to authoritarianism (of BOTH extremes) shaped both their lives and the word we live in today (and indeed some of the very language we use to describe and think about it – imagine a world without the concert of Orwellian politics). Churchill was an anti-Fascist from the earliest days and spent his wilderness years vainly warning Britain (and by extension the Western Powers) about the rise of the authoritarian leaders in both Italy and Germany. Although Churchill was pleased when Germany was stupid enough to invade the Soviet Union, he already had great misgivings about Stalin and never trusted him. For Winston it was a clear ‘enemy of my enemy’ temporary accommodation. Orwell's journey was a little more complex. Although never a Communist he was most definitely ‘of the Left’ and felt the need to do something (other than write) about the fighting in Spain. Randomly allocated a position in an Anarchist division it wasn’t long before his direct experiences soured him to the Russian ‘advisors’ in the war zone and not much longer after that he was warned that both himself and his wife had been added to an effective ‘capture & kill’ list. It transpired that the true enemies of the Communists were not their Fascist foes but the more ‘politically dangerous’ Socialists and Anarchists.  

This was VERY well written (as you might expect from a Pulitzer Prize winner) and often honestly fascinating. If you’re interested what drove Winston Churchill so hard during WW2 and what underlay Orwell’s political beliefs and informed his later and most famous works, this is definitely the book for you. One of the highlights of the year. I’m looking forward to (finally) reading the authors book on the Iraq war. 

Just Finished Reading: We Are What We Read – A Life Within and Without Books by Vybarr Cregan-Reid (FP: 2024) [271pp] 

After reading and enjoying a previous book by this author (on RUNNING indeed!) I snapped this up on a recent visit to my local Indie bookshop. The plus factor, I would’ve picked it up anyway, was the fact that it was on books and the importance of reading for personal growth. It turned out to be much more than that. 

Essentially the book was divided into three streams which met up, mixed and then separated throughout the text. The main thrust, as you might expect, was about books themselves and how reading them changes us in positive ways. The author pointed to several studies were reading serious (or ‘proper’) literature actually increased a person's empathy, not just at the time, not just for a short time afterwards, but (apparently) permanently by rewiring the brain itself. Presumably “Literature” was used, rather than ‘just’ standard novels because the tests would’ve been performed on Uni students and by educated and professional scientists who wouldn’t ‘stoop’ to using trashy novels that the rest of us read? [I think this is the only, very minor, irritation I had with the whole book – the emphasis on ‘literary’ novels rather than ‘popular’ (and, by implication, trash) ones. 

The vehicle used to showcase the power of books and reading, and their capacity to induce change, was the author’s own lived experience. Much like me, although he COULD read, he showed very little interest in reading until quite late in life. With me it was around the age of 14. With the author it was much later – in his 20’s - but it happened in much the same way. One day a friend (who worked at a publishing house) dropped a book in his lap and advised him to read it. Which he did – eventually – and it completely blew his mind. After that he was (again eventually) reading everything that author had produced, then similar things, then other things and on.... Eventually someone suggested he go to Uni and STUDY literature which, eventually he did, followed by a MA and a PhD and then a teaching job. 

The third, and probably least interesting, theme in the book was the LONG war by the UK government on the Humanities in general and English in particular because, supposedly, such studies are not ‘useful’ or ‘practical’. It always used to both annoy and amuse me whenever I was home that my mother would ask what I was doing my latest degree ‘for’, as if everything had to be work related or have immediate/practical application. Of course, Education in its broadest sense is MUCH more than that – and doubly so with the Humanities or English. 

Although this wasn’t QUITE what I was expecting – especially the author struggling with being a gay teenager in Britain in the 1980’s during the AIDS epidemic/panic - I still enjoyed it a great deal. It did twinge my deeply entrenched belief that I am nowhere near ‘well-read’ (whatever THAT means) a few times and prompt me to dig into my Classics pile looking for books he recommended, but I forgave him for that. Overall, this is a very personal ‘love-letter’ to books and reading as well as a plea for its continued place for study in the University. Recommended. 

Just Finished Reading: Crime Fiction – A Very Short Introduction by Richard Bradford (FP: 2015) [122pp] 

Science-Fiction was, and will remain, my first literary love, but Crime Fiction is probably a close second. As with SF one of the things I love about it is the variety – from Golden Age classics, to Hard-boiled American, to historical, translated and even as far-fetched as Vampire detectives and much else besides. Quite a lot of these variants – with the notable exception of vampires – are covered in this interesting slim volume. 

Starting with the origins of the genre – which turns out not to be either as obvious not as agreed upon as I first thought – we swiftly ended up discussing two of my favourite areas, Golden Age and Hard-boiled. I’m getting more familiar with Golden Age crime novels thanks to the British Library series I’m enjoying so much. Before that I’d been fixated on Agatha Christie novels almost exclusively. This section gave me some more authors to explore there. Naturally (as I’ve mentioned several times) I’m a HUGE fan of Noir/Hard-boiled US crime fiction and, again, the author gave me some pointers towards new (to me!) authors to try out.  

After that the author focused on the transition to more modern crime formats on both sides of the Atlantic and how the two dominant styles adapted to the new world, played off each other and morphed into the variety of the modern crime novel we know today. Part of this, of course, was the expansion – indeed explosion – of translated works from Europe and especially from Scandinavia – known as Nordic Noir. Interestingly the author was at a total loss to explain the sudden emerge of this particular sub-genre! 

Inevitably gender roles were brought up looking both at the history of female detectives and the role of women both as protagonists and victims through the decades. The female detective is something I’m going to be looking at later (fictionally and analytically), so it’ll be interesting applying some of his viewpoints to my reading. As of now I’m inclined not to agree with his PoV. 

Before topping out on the literary ‘value’ of crime fiction (personally I hate the idea that some fiction has ‘merit’ and the rest is mere entertainment for the masses and, by definition, of lessor or no ‘value’) the author discussed several crime adjacent genres particularly legal fiction, thrillers and the spy novel. 

Overall, this was an interesting, informative and valuable read. It highlighted a good selection of authors I can investigate and gave me some new perspectives on the genre. Well worth a read if you’re interested in the genre or are wondering where to start your criminal reading. Recommended and more literate based VSI books to come.

Just Finished Reading: Hardboiled America – Lurid Paperbacks and the Masters of Noir by Geoffrey O’Brien (FP: 1981/1997) [175pp] 

I was a fan of hardboiled detective fiction long before I read my first book of the genre. I had grown up watching the classic Noir films of the 40’s and 50’s care of my father's love of them. Strangely I actually started reading the novels in my 20’s after I stumbled upon Cyberpunk and the works of William Gibson, specifically the ‘Sprawl Trilogy’ starting off with Neuromancer. The blurb on the back of the book labelled Gibson as the Sci-Fi answer to Raymond Chadler so I felt compelled to check him out. I’m actually amazed at not doing so previously. Films such as The Big Sleep have remained in my Top List for the last 40+ years so it came as no great surprise that I immediately fell in love with the books too. Naturally after Chandler I moved on to James M Cain, Dashiell Hammett and others. Although checking through the hardboiled checklist at the back of this book I see that there are many novels and many authors awaiting to be sampled. 

Regular readers of this Blog will no doubt be aware of my love of pulp fiction covers. One of the delights in this slim volume is the authors attention given to the artists who produced this seemingly endless supply of the iconic artwork as well as numerous examples sprinkled throughout its pages – unfortunately only in black & white but you can’t have everything. Generally, as with the music I enjoy, I know very little indeed about the producers of the fiction I enjoy so much. I’ve never really been interested in the personal lives of authors or musicians (or artists etc..) and would rather enjoy the books, records or movies I like without know anything about them. Part of that is I’m not that interested in other people's lives and I don’t think that knowing if an author is a dog or cat person or how many times they’ve been divorced would enhance my reading pleasure, and to be honest some authors/artists are just not very nice people and I’d just rather not know. That said, I did find some of the authors insights into my favourite noir authors rather illuminating – especially as to what they thought of each other! Raymond Chandler was especially outspoken. 

Overall, this was a highly entertaining and informative read. I do love my Noir in all its forms and this book has inspired me to dive back into the genre. The checklist in the back, running from 1929 to 1960 will certainly help focus my attention and I might even slip in a few books about the phenomena too. Definitely recommended for all Noir fans. 

Just Finished Reading: Danger is My Business – An Illustrated History of the Fabulous Pulp Magazines: 1896-1953 by Lee Server (FP: 1993) [137pp] 

Anyone who is, or has been, a regular here will know of my love for pulp cover art. I’m also a BIG fan of the Golden Age of Science Fiction and Noir fiction – both of which emerged in the pulp magazines in the first part of the 20th century – so how could I avoid something like this book. OK, I’ve actually had it stacked in a pile near one of my shelf units for some time now (it's a large ‘coffee-table’ book so wouldn’t fit on any of my shelves) but the point stands. 

Covering ALL of the genres (or at least most of them) including Horror/Fantasy, Adventure, Private-Eyes, Romance and Sex, Heroes (super or otherwise), Weird (there was a lot of that!) and, of course, Science-Fiction the author not only showed his knowledge of the subject but his love of all things pulpy too. So, not only was this a FUN experience I also learnt quite a bit about why the pulps emerged in the first place, how they explosively expanded in the 1920’s, stumbled a bit during the depression, reached new heights shortly after and them collapsed almost overnight. It seemed like one hell of a ride for all involved. Although I certainly knew about SOME of the genres covered here, I wasn’t fully aware of the hundreds of really niche markets some of the pulps serviced or how short some of the runs were – some magazines died a very early death whilst others, particularly crime, SF and westerns, went on year after year. 

Although quite thin at just under 140 pages the large format allowed the author to cover a lot of ground despite the book being heavily illustrated with some great, indeed iconic, pulp images which really helped the individual magazines to stand out on their stands and either gave great pleasure or the odd moralistic heart attack to those who saw them. Pretty tame by today’s ‘standards’ some of the covers really pushed the boundaries of good taste and are, therefore, HIGHLY collectable today. If you’re as much as a pulp fan as I am – either for their contents or their art work – this will be a real treat for you. Recommended.   

Just Finished Reading: Rebel Writers – The Accidental Feminists by Celia Brayfield (FP: 2019) [246pp] 

I’d heard of a group of male authors in the 50’s and 60’s called The Angry Young Men (writers such as Stan Barstow, John Braine, John Osborne and Alan Sillitoe amongst others) and I even have some, typically unread, books by them but I had never heard about the ‘Angry Young Women’ who were their contemporaries. Of course, much was made of the men’s efforts and many column inches appeared in the papers discussing their new, radical, ‘kitchen sink drama’ style of writing featured between the pages of a book or on the BBC’s Play of the Week. The women, and often very young women, were seen as more exotic and not a little transgressive – becoming published authors in their TEENS and writing about poverty, sex, abortion (illegal at that time) and contraception (difficult to obtain until the advent of the Pill and even then, only initially available to married women). In some cases, most notably with Edna O’Brien, their books were vilified and, in some cases, actively banned for years after initial publication. Even a successful print run had its own problems attached – from media pressure, fame (however brief) and the fact that the youngest authors had to have their financial affairs countersigned by their husbands or fathers.  

What these women authors chronicled – although they were singularly unaware of it at the time – was a radical change in British life as old the certainties of their parent’s generation gave way to the more radical, more free and more open 1950’s and 1960’s. They brought, intentionally or not, many of the daily problems experienced by women, and especially working-class women, into the public (and middle-class) domain which inevitably raised questions about solutions of poverty, single parenthood, divorce, childcare, prostitution, the legalisation of abortion, homosexuality, race issues and much more. These authors – both men and women – introduced a new perspective into modern literature: from the bottom looking up rather than from the top (or middle) looking down or, all too often, simply ignoring conditions that were long considered ‘beneath’ them. It was quite a revelation for everyone. 

I’d come across this book (or at least the cover!) some time ago when searching for works on rebels, so when I saw it going cheap in my favourite Indie bookshop picked it up as at least potentially interesting. I’m so glad I did. Not only did I learn a great deal about these authors – only one (Edna O’Brien) I’d tried before – but also about the times they wrote about. Although I hadn’t actually heard of many of the authors before, I had come across much of their output in movie adaptation or in play form on TV such as ‘The L-shaped Room’, ‘A Taste of Honey’, ‘Up the Junction’, ‘Poor Cow’ and ‘Georgy Girl’. What made an already interesting subject even more so was the excellent writing by the author who melded together the lives of the authors themselves, the times they were writing in (and about), the on-going social upheaval they witnessed and helped along, the reactions of critics and the reading public (plus both politicians and churchmen) to their output and much else perfectly. It was all quite fascinating! If you have any interest in this radical period of British literature and theatre or just in post-War Britain and the emergence of the ‘Swinging Sixties’ this is a definite recommendation. 

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Just Finished Reading: Burning the Books – A History of Knowledge Under Attack by Richard Ovenden (FP: 2020) [233pp] 

Burning books or the destruction of archives neither started, nor unfortunately ended, with the 1930’s in central Europe. Even recently, in the war in Ukraine, we have witnessed the deliberate targeting of cultural centers and libraries by Russian missiles. This is, as it always was, a well-worn method of attempting to erase a people, a belief or a culture from history. Without records for future generations to discover and appreciate it is that much harder for communities to know their own past. Without historical anchors to bind them it is much more likely that cultures, beliefs or entire peoples become adrift in time. 

From the destruction of the Library of Alexandria (which was actually two libraries and didn’t burn down in a single tragic event) to the religious book burnings during the 30 Years War and the Reformation, from the removal of archives in former colonial outposts – partially through blind bureaucracy and partially to deny former colonies evidence for legal recourse – to artillery strikes on libraries during the breakup of Yugoslavia, to the casual neglect of libraries throughout the world as cash-strapped governments cut funds and cut again on what many see as easily disposable activities. Even today on our nightly news we see those who often do not use libraries attempting to force the removal of books to restrict the dissemination of ideas or narratives they deem inappropriate or inconvenient. The symbolic, at least, burning of books it with us today and quite probably in our own town. 

Of course, being a book lover of many, many years, the very idea of deliberately destroying books and most especially old rare or priceless books – no matter their content – is deeply repugnant to me. If a book holds a belief system I do not subscribe to, if a book contains details or opinions that I do not share, if a book portrays lifestyles or behaviours that are different to mine, I do not expect, advocate or demand their destruction. To my way of thinking that’s like asking me to describe the smell of the number 9 – my mind kind of slides off the idea and just can’t ‘lock on’ to it. But such ideas, sometimes all too successful although thankfully often anything but, are nothing new and are universal. But so is, as the author points out repeatedly, the idea that books, ideas, culture should be preserved for all mankind. Tales of those who fight against book banning or book burning are sprinkled throughout this often-compelling narrative, stories of those who hid sacred Jewish texts during the dark times in Occupied Europe, stories of librarians, firefighters and civilians who braved fire, and exploding shells to rescue priceless historical artifacts from museums and cultural archives as well as publishers who continue publishing such works despite the threat of fines, prison or worse. Definitely an interesting, depressing but also uplifting work (as well as a warning!) for all bibliophiles.   

Just Finished Reading: The Secret Life of Books – Why They Mean More Than Words by Tom Mole (FP: 2019) [225pp]  

Most books about books (a rather favourite sub-genre of mine) concentrate on authors lives, cultural impacts of great works, or critical appreciation (or otherwise) of writing styles. This book looked at something different – the books themselves rather than what is contained between their covers. To be honest it was a bit of a shock at first. It took me a while to get my head around an exploration of books that didn’t look, at least to an extent, at the words they contained. But as the book progressed, I started to see what the author was getting at and it started me thinking about, and looking at, books in subtly different ways.  

Funnily, I have often thought of books as more than simply words on a page and have voiced this idea more than once – mostly to the consternation of my friends. One of the things I’ve never bought myself, and honestly have hardly ever considered, is a Kindle or other electronic reading device. This is despite the fact that I’m drowning in physical books and I have real concerns about the structural integrity of floors – much like an early example in this book where the authors University tutor had to be persuaded to reduce his book holdings after the University had a structural engineer look over his office. A good part of that reluctance is the philosophical opinion that a book downloaded onto a Kindle isn’t ‘really’ a book. Sure, it’s the same words in the same order as the physical copy but does that make it a book? I’d say ‘no’. Books are more than that. Interestingly the author, and some of his references, back me up.  

Especially before the invention of printing – though for quite a while afterwards too – books were both very expensive and very personal. Books were produced to order and, in many ways, personalised to their owners. Bibles especially were created to last generations and be used, not only as methods of religious instruction but as ways to bind families together over time – recording births, deaths and other important family events. Much as I dislike the idea of people writing in books, this was a way of both personalising an often mass-produced book and as a way of recording thoughts, ideas and commentary on the original text. The book became a living document rather than the remnants of a dead tree.  

Books have often been seen as status symbols. At first this was due to their cost and rarity. It also showed that at least someone in the house was educated enough to read – Latin, Greek, Arabic or, later, the local vernacular. Even today, carrying a book (especially outside an academic environment) can be seen as a, sometimes hopeful, sign of intelligence, of someone with an enquiring mind or someone ‘up’ on what’s popular with the Facebook generation. Openly carrying a certain book can signal that you’re a rebel, a free thinker, pious, a conservative, a liberal. It signals to others that you are part of a group – either theirs or a member of their (potential) opposition. Books are cultural shorthand and so much more.   

Some of the things in this slim volume were so obvious that I’d hardly thought of them or given them much consideration. Other things made me look at books and book readers in different ways – both subtle and profound. Both themes opened my eyes a little more to seeing books more than simply words on a page. An interesting ‘sideways’ look at books. Recommended for all book lovers.  

Oh, and my favourite quote from this book: “Books on the shelves are sandbags stacked against the floodwaters of forgetting.” Very poetic!

Just Finished Reading: The Mighty Dead – Why Homer Matters by Adam Nicolson (FP: 2014) [251pp]

This was, as you might expect, an impulse buy. Although I know of (as does just about everyone in the West) the existence of the Illiad and the Odyssey I’ve never read either (although I have of late been dipping into an old – 1950 – translation of the Illiad) and the closest I’ve come to them so far is a few modern interpretations and the epic movie Troy which I honestly enjoyed a great deal. I’d heard that Homer might not be an actual person who wrote these iconic tales of western cannon but that he was, possibly, either a composite of several writers, a generic term for those who told the tales (prior to them finally being written down) or even the name of the first person to translate them from the spoken word to the written text. The author goes over each of these theories and shows on multiple occasions and in multiple ways just how far back in time – literally to the days before History – the tales go, teasing out individual word use, descriptions of weapons and armour and so on to show that the tale existed LONG before the age that finally immortalised it. But that was just the beginning.

I won’t even try to precis this book but will, instead, look at some of the themes the author covered. Naturally both tales are central to the books overall narrative but many questions need to be asked (apart from where they came from and did the Trojan War actually happen for real). When the Illiad is considered the first question that needs to be raised is ‘Which Illiad?’ Not only have there been, over the centuries since it was first written down, many, many translations of varying quality but there are multiple versions of the original text dating back far into antiquity. The Librarian’s at Alexandria tried to produce an ‘authorised’ version but were not wholly successful. Then there’s the question of just how it was possible to remember and ‘sing’ such a long and complex narrative – which naturally leads on to the many quirks and repartitions in the text that allow such a prodigious feat of memory to be achieved.

The thing that jumped out at me most however was not really about the text but about the war itself. Troy was a comparatively minor city – rich as it was – on the edge of an Asian empire. The Greeks, in contrast, were a rabble of squabbling tribes barely out of the Stone Age. Rather than the heroes of the piece, despite thousands of years of propaganda to back their case, they were in fact the bad guys – most literally the barbarians at the gate. That, of course, flips the whole narrative on its head. I wonder if there are books out there telling the siege of Troy as a tragedy from the Trojan point of view?

Coincidentally I have just finished a relatively recent updated narrative about the Trojan War told from the point of view of Patroclus, lover and friend of Achilles. As stated previously I dipped into the 1950 Penguin translation of the Illiad that I’ve had for years/decades and it looks very readable (and is, therefore, probably a rather ‘free’ translation!) so there’s more Homeric texts to come. It almost feels like Fate…. But if you’re a fan of two of the truly great classics of western literature this is definitely the book for you. Starting from an admittedly low base I definitely learnt a lot about the background to the stories and their ongoing importance in the western cannon. Most definitely more to come. Highly recommended.

Awards

Longlisted for the Samuel Johnson Prize for Non-Fiction 2014

Just Finished Reading: Constellation of Genius – 1922: Modernism and All That Jazz by Kevin Jackson (FP: 2012) [506pp]

I remember many years ago being invited for an interview to read Modern History at Norwich university on England’s east coast. The interview was scheduled to last around 40-45 minutes and actually ran to well over an hour before we wrapped up. Afterwards the university lowered the grades they had initially given me for my upcoming A-levels. Unfortunately I screwed up my results that year and never actually attended. If I had, of course, my whole life from that day forward would probably have followed a different path than I actually did. The interview lasted much longer than initially planned because the tutor and I got into an interesting discussion which neither of us really wanted to abruptly finish. He started by saying that Oxford university classified their History course into either Ancient or Modern – with the cut-off point being the fall of the western Roman Empire in 476 AD/CE. I think we both though this was far too early to assign something as ‘modern’. “So, what do you think”? he asked…. And off we went. I initially threw out there the proposal of 1945 with the advent of the Atomic Age but thought that’d probably be too late for ‘modern times’ to beginning. I thought it might be dated back to the invention of printing in the early 15^th century and then moved forward to the seemingly obvious break in human history with the Industrial Revolution in Britain in the mid-18^th century. That seemed a pretty good bet. But again I felt that this was too early. We tossed about dates/events for a while – the Treaty of Westphalia in 1648 that brought the 30 Years War to an end or the Congress of Vienna in 1815 that reordered the European world after Napoleon. Finally I zeroed in on something later of fundamental impact – WW1. Not only with the explosion of technology that we all take for granted these days – everything from radio, the widespread use of motorised vehicles (including aircraft) – but also for ideas and the breakup of the major European empires and the beginning of the end for the British empire and the seemingly unstoppable rise of America on the world stage. So finally I think I plumped for 1919 and the Versailles Treaties. That’s when the modern world started…………..

So, to my point and the book review! The author of this fascinating, rather odd and very readable book considers 1922 the beginning of what we can call modernism. Bracketed by the two greats of modern literature The Waste Land (T S Elliot) and Ulysses (James Joyce) [neither of which I’ve read] 1922 managed to break the mould from previous ages in innumerate ways:

The first American AM radio station began broadcasting

The first successful use of Insulin

The conclusion of the Washington Naval Conference

The International Court of Justice was established in The Hague

Construction of Yankee Stadium in New York began

The dedication of the Lincoln Memorial

The Hollywood Bowl opened

Walt Disney released his first animated film which lasted 6 minutes

The Ottoman Empire was abolished

The Australian airline Qantas began passenger services

The BBC began regular radio broadcasting in the UK

The appointment of the first US female senator – Rebecca L Felton of Georgia

Author and IRA member Robert Erskine Childers executed by firing squad

Much, of course, was occurring across the globe – the explosion of Jazz in the US and increasingly in Europe, the equally controversial explosion of modern art – painting, architecture, music, poetry, dance, theatre, prose – that either exhilarated or appalled its audiences seemed to emerge almost from nowhere and almost as quickly transmute into something else. Politically there was the fallout from the Versailles Treaties, the growth of right-wing movements in Italy and Germany, revolution and civil war in Russia and Ireland and on and on…. It was, most certainly, a tumultuous time everywhere. Presented in a month by month chronological format that drives the narrative forward and leaving you with the feeling that you just must know what happens next week or next month before bedtime this was a really interesting way of looking at the time. Moving across the globe to pick out people, events or movements – both political or cultural (or sometimes both at the same time) you get a real ‘window’ on the times and actually a real feeling of being there almost as if you’re sitting at breakfast and have just been handed the morning newspaper. Despite looking back 100 years in time it did quite often have a feeling of immediacy. Definitely recommended for anyone interested in the 1920’s or any culture vultures.  

New High Score (since records began 22nd October 2020)

Average Page count: 334pp [+3pp]  

Just Finished Reading: Political Hypocrisy – The Mask of Power, from Hobbes to Orwell and Beyond by David Runciman (FP: 2008)

My first thought on receiving this book in the post was that I imagined it, given the subject matter, to be much longer than the 226 large format pages than it turned out to be. But that was my first mistake! Of course if it had been about the history of political hypocrisy – which would have essentially been the history of politics itself, it definitely would have been. Fortunately the subject matter was rather more constrained – views on hypocrisy (mostly of the political persuasion) from various authors over the last few hundred years and what we can learn from them today.

The one thing that came through loud and clear throughout the book was that hypocrisy and democratic politics are deeply interwoven. Dictatorships (and indeed Empires) have no need to be hypocritical about their motives, their means or their methods. With no electorate to appease and little care for international opinion they can do what they need to do without the need for window dressing, fake persuasion or playing to the gallery. They need to do something they go right on and do it. Democracies have a problem with such things as they are bound by niceties such as the law, public opinion and the need to get re-elected. In order to do that they need to be not wholly truthful about what they need to do and why they need to do it. The big question is this: Is that level of potential hypocrisy a bad thing or just something that we just need to live with? Indeed would we know what to do with an actual honest politician if such a thing exists (or even could exist). After all aren’t we all, at one level or another all hypocrites from time to time – haven’t we agreed that babies are far more attractive than they actually are? Haven’t we lied about our beliefs to fit in, avoid arguments or to protect ourselves? Aren’t politicians just doing on a larger stage what we all do every day on a smaller one? Or are some hypocrisies worse than others or is it a case that a public hypocrisy is bad whilst a private hypocrisy can be forgiven – at least more easily. Should we just cut politicians some slack for being human after all?

Here’s the rub of course. Is someone a hypocrite for pretending to be straight or a believer in their cultures religion when the alternative might well be a painful death? Now compare that with a politician who actively and knowingly deceives an electorate for their own or their parties gain by pretending to believe or be something they quite clearly are not and using that pretence to prosper. Are they simply both hypocrites and equally subject to condemnation or can we separate one from the other and rank them accordingly? That, according to the author of this intriguing and well thought out piece of political philosophy, is exactly what we need to determine with the help of some of the greatest political thinkers of the past 500 years.

I did actually struggle a bit through the early parts of this book, partially because my philosophical brain ‘muscles’ have been allowed to atrophy and partially because I’ve never been a fan of Thomas Hobbes. I was much more at home as the narrative moved on to the 18th century political commentator Bernard Mandeville and his Fable of the Bees. As we moved forward in time I found the thoughts of the instigators of the American Revolution most interesting as they dissected British hypocrisy whilst defending themselves against the same charge. I felt that I needed to know more of the thoughts of these long ignored (from my point of view) political thinkers. A section on Utilitarianism barely raised a ripple of comment and then we were on to the great hypocrites of our age – the Victorians. Here the author surprised me somewhat by throwing in the thought of an author rather than a political philosopher – in the guise of Anthony Trollope and his political novels of the age. This most certainly put Trollope on my future reading list. Jumping ahead again to the almost contemporary age we ended (almost) with the great George Orwell and his thoughts on the whole thing. Still pretty knew to Orwell – having only read 4 of his books so far – I need feel motivated to read more of them.

Whilst not coming to any conclusive answer to the evident problem of political hypocrisy I did feel that the author made a very good fist at defining the problem as well as defining exactly what type of hypocrisy we should be most vexed with. I think he was right that we should never expect our politicians in a democracy to be completely open and honest with us because, to be honest, democracy just doesn’t work that way. So trying to fix that particular problem – in effect trying to ‘fix’ politics, is simply a waste of time. We need to know where to draw the lines and be aware when politicians step (or sometimes leap) over them in order to hold them meaningfully to account. Overall a very interesting read and a must for anyone increasingly jaded by the actions of our so-called representatives.

Just Finished Reading: Stranger Than We Can Imagine – Making Sense of the Twentieth Century by John Higgs (FP: 2015)

As one of my drives behind my non-fiction reading being 50%+ history is to understand how we got here (and what we can do about it) a title offering to make sense of the last century is hard to resist. So you won’t at all be surprised that it didn’t stay in my un-read pile very long at all.

The first thing I couldn’t help to notice (and comment upon) was a delightful coincidence – one of my favourite things to be honest. In my previous read [Future Crimes] the author mentioned at the end of the updated paperback edition the latest hacking example to hit the US: The Sony Hack apparently in response to the upcoming comedy about North Korea. Here, in a different book, by a different author and on a different topic the narrative started with the author accidently triggering his phone in a bookshop to broadcast President Obama’s reaction to the Sony Hack. I was suitably impressed by the cosmic synchronicity.

But to the book itself… The author stated plainly from the beginning that he had no intention of trawling over the well-trodden ground that countless historians and others had worked over in trying to catalogue and (hopefully) understand the most documented and debated human century so far. What he proposed instead was to pick a handful of normally avoided areas (using the metaphor of deep dark and seemingly menacing forests) and look at the century through their lenses and, of course, he started with a doozy – Relativity. Starting with the century itself this idea, culturally shattering in its way, destroyed for ever the foundations of physical certainty. Despite the efforts of the greatest minds of the century that particular Genie has steadfastly refused to approach the bottle never mind agree to climb back inside. If that wasn’t enough the art world gave us Modernism at around the same time which proceeded to dismantle the very idea of art itself – not only painting but music and literature all fell under its spell and nothing has quite been the same ever since. With the certainty of Science and Art under sustained attack the equally supportive pillar of politics couldn’t be far behind. The wars of the 20th century where not only the bloodiest in our already blood soaked history but managed to shatter the very idea of Imperialism and the apparently natural hierarchies on which world spanning Empires where built. After 1918 the few remaining Imperial Powers were living on borrowed time and they knew it. Those who tried to bluff their way against the flow of history (I’m looking at you France) where very quickly disabused of the notion that Empires could be rebuilt or held on to by force.

With the collapse of certainty and the rise of cultural relativity it is no great surprise that the 20th Century could, without too much of a stretch, be called the Age of the Individual with Freud’s idea of the Id in charge. Free expression, Free love but no such thing as a Free Lunch was the feeling of the era epitomised by the rise and increasing veneration of the Teenager who came to prominence from the 1950’s with their strange ways and their Rock & Roll music. Likewise the 20th century was the Age of Space changing global perspectives forever with the iconic picture of the ‘Blue Dot’ and giving renewed impetus to the burgeoning Environmental Movement and the idea of a fragile Earth in need of protection. Not surprisingly the 20th Century embraced Science Fiction in all its guises, as novels, movies and comic books. With so many possibilities, both dark and glorious, what other literate genre could speak for the Age? Seemingly spinning out of control as the decades passed the 20th Century gave us the Uncertainty Principle (if we were not uncertain enough already), Chaos Theory and, of course Post-Modernism. Could things get any stranger…..?

But can such a diverse and dynamic century be made sense of with only 15 or so years of perspective? Apparently so…. Apart from an insightful and delightful style throughout this frankly brilliant book full of interesting ideas, often seemingly crazy people and (without the benefit of hindsight) bizarre events the author proposed a view of the century I hadn’t heard before. He essentially said that the 20th century was a unique time existing, in a kind of liminal state, between two epochs. Prior to 1918 humanity had lived through age after age of Empires and Hierarchies. People were born into their place and, by and large, lived and died there. The First World War brought most of them crashing to the ground and the Second World War finished off the rest. After around 1990 to world increasingly became a world of Networks where hierarchies became redundant dinosaurs surrounded by agile, fluid, spare of the moment, ad hoc concentrations of power and ability that flashed into existence, performed the task at hand and vanished into thin air. This, the author proposes is the future that will leave the remains of the last century behind as an example of a unique short-lived age which had a brief existence sandwiched between two all-encompassing global paradigms. We will never, he says, see its like again. It’s an interesting thought that I shall have to mull over for a while. This is a book chocked full of interesting observations, fascinating (and often very strange) people, lots of humour and an underlying brilliance that supports it all. One of my Top 10 books of the year. Highly recommended.

Just Finished Reading: Love, Life, Goethe – How to be Happy in an Imperfect World by John Armstrong (FP: 2006)

This is rather a strange one – not helped by the sub-title not exactly being 100% honest. On the face of it this looks like a kind of off-beat self-help book possibly using the works of the great 18th Century German author and playwright as examples. In a roundabout way that would be right. But only somewhat. What it actually turned out being was an off-beat biography of the man himself - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (28 August 1749 – 22 March 1832).

Now I’d be the first to admit that all I knew of Goethe prior to reading this rather long but interesting book is that he was German and that he’d written some classic works of literature. I’m not even sure, prior to being immersed in his life, that I could’ve told you which century he lived in. My knowledge of German culture is, as you might imagine, rather sparse. I am now much more familiar with his works, nicely explained throughout, and with the time in which he lived. He was undoubtedly a very lucky man. He was lucky enough to be born into position and reasonable wealth and was being groomed, from an early age, to take up a position of power and prestige in his home city of Frankfurt. Sent away to study Law he developed other ideas and produced a novel which became a runaway best seller and made him the toast of European society and all whilst still in his 20’s. The novel, The Sorrows of Young Werter, made him a cultural superstar who everyone wanted to meet or befriend. One such benefactor was Karl August, Duke of Saxe-Weimar-Eisenach (based in the small town of Weimar) who managed to entice Goethe to move to his principalities capital and to stay there for most of his life. Whilst there Goethe produced a number of plays, including a very well received re-imaging of Faust in two parts (the 2nd part only publish after his death and, together, running for over 13 hours of stage time), several travelogues – he loved Italy – some poetry and even some scientific work (apparently getting involved in a huge row with Isaac Newton about the nature of light!) He also managed to become Karl August’s friend, a minister in his government and a companion on his military adventures (including against Napoleon himself). If that wasn’t enough Goethe had an eye for the ladies which was more than reciprocated. A handsome man into late middle-age, famous, connected and not exactly poor he was quite a catch in anyone’s book. All the stranger then when he fell in love with, had children with and finally married a pretty local girl with no education, no money and no position. Whilst not exactly staying faithful to her throughout her life they did stay together until her death late in his life.

So, where does the rather strange sub-title come in? The author, with some style I must admit, makes a good case for Goethe’s philosophical stance using evidence from his literally works, later autobiography and various letters to his many, many contacts throughout Europe. He did say some interesting, if potentially mundane, things. One of the most interesting I thought was his belief that it was simply not possible to know other people anywhere as well as you could, at least potentially, know yourself. He was certainly sure that no one would understand him after he died no matter what material he left behind (and he deliberately left a lot!). Something even more mundane was his belief in home comforts. The home should be your refuge and should be clean, tidy and orderly. With such a place to retreat to almost any trial could be overcome. He was though, above everything else, most concerned that people saw the reality of the world and did not spend their lives disappointed (or worse) that life in general or their lives in particular were not turning out the way they imagined they would. Projecting our wishes onto the real world and expecting some positive outcome was, he thought, simply asking for trouble. Whilst not exactly what I was expecting this was still an interesting (and often fascinating) delve into a world and an author I had previously know very little about. If you’re interested in Goethe, 18th century literature or European culture this is the book for you. Recommended.

[Next up in non-History non-Fiction: Our Dark Future]  

Just Finished Reading: The Trojan War – A Very Short Introduction by Eric H Cline (FP: 2013)

It’s probably one of the greatest stories ever told – a war to retrieve on of the most beautiful women ever to have lived, fought over 10 years with Heroes on each side, laying siege to the greatest city of the age and ending in its utter destruction. These events resonate down the centuries and make up two of the all-time classic pieces of western literature which have given rise to a host of books, movies, poems and much else besides. But did any of it really happen? Did Hector, Paris, Achilles and the rest really exist? Did Troy fall as related in the story, did it even exist in the first place or was the whole thing an elaborate work of fiction? Did Homer even exist? This small volume aims to answer at least some of those questions. The answers will both intrigue and, undoubtedly frustrate you – I know they did me!

The short answer is yes, Troy existed although it was called by many names by the numerous cultures surrounding it (including Ilium where we get Iliad). The more complete answer is that a city had existed on the agreed site of Troy for a great span of time with city built on top of city as each fell (often due to earthquake as well as war) and was rebuilt. Frustratingly none of them quite match up with the apparent timelines of the books. Likewise some of the heroes seemed to have existed but others (Ajax in particular) seem to have been imported into the story from earlier sagas complete with outdated armour and weapons. Did the war exist and what about the infamous Trojan Horse? There is certainly evidence for some kind of military defeat in the ruins of Troy but nothing definitive – again not in the proposed timescales of the books. Unfortunately there’s no direct evidence for the famous equine and the story itself seems to have been added later by other authors.

The tales themselves betray the fact that they were spoken epics long before they were finally written down – there’s even a theory that the Greek written language itself might have been created (modified from an existing written language) to transfer a spoken story to something a little more solid. Tales grow in the telling and anomalies or embellishments creep in over time. Both the Iliad and Odyssey show this happening as existing tales and myths are incorporated or adapted into a new story which show up as anachronistic elements that were presumably accepted for what they were – plot devices and homages to previous tales of honour, glory and tragedy.

Of course none of the finds are without controversy, argument and counter argument, reputations made and destroyed, lies told and academic flame wars fought as fiercely as the Trojan War itself might have been. It’s all grist to the mill and makes a fascinating tale all the more interesting if that’s possible. Recommended for anyone who wondered what all the fuss was about.      

Just Finished Reading: A Jane Austen Education – How Six Novels taught me about Love, Friendship, and the Things that Really Matter by William Deresiewicz (FP: 2011)

Ok, how do you expect me to resist a book with that title? It practically LEPT off the table in the book store into my open hand. As a huge Austen fan (although with two of her books still unread – I bought the missing one last weekend) and someone with a growing interest in rather quirky Lit Crit I just had to read this. Considering I only bought it a few months ago it actually landed at the top of my ‘to read soon’ list pretty damned quick. But was it any good? Reader, I loved it (OK, that was paraphrasing a Bronte novel but I’ll get to that…).

Using each of the six novels to concentrate on a particular life lesson: Emma (Everyday Matters), Pride and Prejudice (Growing Up), Northanger Abbey (Learning to Learn), Mansfield Park (Being Good), Persuasion (True Friends) and Sense and Sensibility (Falling in Love) the author relates, along with a great deal of humour and personal revelations, how each book started him on the road to questioning the ways he had always done things and who he actually was (and wanted to be). His biggest revelation it seemed was that not only could Austen actually write – he was initially rather dismissive of 19th century literature as a whole – but that her novels were most definitely not simply early 19th century ‘chick lit’. Being forced, with great reluctance, to read Emma as part of his graduate English course he initially hated it (as did I) but was then increasingly brought under Austen’s spell as the eponymous character blossomed before his eyes. From then on he was hooked on Austen. So much so, indeed, that he used the lessons learnt from Emma to start a life changing process beginning with dumping his then girlfriend and moving further away from his domineering father. Not a bad start from someone so initially disparaging of her work! Over the next 3-4 years and 5 more novels the author become more convinced of Austen’s genius and used the lessons embedded between the covers to analyse both what was wrong in his own life and what was wrong in the world around him. It was, I can tell you, quite a journey.

Told with great dollops of literary insight – so much so that I’m tempted to re-read the Austen books I’ve already finished as well as finally read the final two - Northanger Abbey and Mansfield Park – as soon as possible. Re-reading books is a very rare activity for me but I think I’d find it interesting in this case as I could compare, in detail, the authors impressions compared with me own. I certainly agreed with a great deal of what he said regarding my favourite Austen novels – P&P, Persuasion and Emma (in order of preference) so re-reading them might give me a greater insight although I’m not sure if by doing so my life would change that much! His analysis of the two books I have yet to read has definitely piqued my interest and has definitely raised their profile and accelerated them on the path towards actually being read!

Interestingly after I finished this delightfully interesting book I checked to see if the author had written anything else. He had – and I immediately impulse bought his work outlining what he thinks is wrong with graduate education in the USA (although I’m guessing this would apply in the UK too if not necessarily elsewhere). His style, whit, insights and humour made this a hugely enjoyable work and I can highly recommend it to any Austen fans out there.  

Oh, the Bronte thing - it seems that in the world of English Lit there's a huge competitive rift between fans of each author and, in the end, he really did marry her (without giving too much away....)

Just Finished Reading: Modernism – A Very Short Introduction by Christopher Butler (FP: 2010)

Now I’d be the first to admit that Art of any kind, and never mind Modern Art, is a little outside my comfort/knowledge zone in the reading about it department. So I have to admit that I did struggle more than a little with this book despite its paltry 102 pages.

Concentrating on works from 1909-1939, some of which I knew and others I already liked (most notably Guernica by Picasso - finished in 1937), I actually managed to learn a great deal about artists I’d never heard of before pushing the boundaries of art (not just painting) in all directions both sides of WW1. So impressive was this outpouring that some commentators at the time blamed Modernist thought and the Avant-Garde in general for provoking the Great War. Maybe another look at it would see WW1 as part of the energetic energy of the New (Modern) Age?

The philosophy of Modernism centred around change, technology, speed and the urban environment canonising machines and just about anything that called the existing bourgeois values and standards into question attacking anything that smacked of traditionalism. Largely from the Left politically, though not exclusively as evinced by the Italian Futurists who closely associated with Italian Fascists, much modern art was vilified both in Germany and Italy as decadent and much was publically (and regrettably) destroyed during WW2.

Giving rise to artistic styles as diverse as Cubism, Surrealism, Dadaism, Bauhaus, and Neoclassicism and producing artists as varied as Henri Bergson, Berthold Brecht, Jean Cocteau, Salvador Dali, T.S Eliot, James Joyce, Wassily Kandinsky, D H Lawrence, Rene Magritte, Pablo Picasso, Erik Satie, Igor Stravinsky and Virginia Woolf this was an artistic movement the like of which had never been seen before and which is still reverberating through cultures across the world and still with the power to shock, awe and amuse in equal measure. Some of it I regard as junk, some I look at with stunned incomprehension and others I look at or listen to with feelings of transcendent joy. If you want to know more about the phenomena of Modernism I suggest that this is a pretty good place to start with lots of ideas to follow up.  

Just Finished Reading: Confronting the Classics by Mary Beard (FP: 2013)

To date I’ve had precious little contact with the Greek and Roman classics. For one thing such works where not exactly the staple of a working class ‘comprehensive’ education. For another they’ve always had the reputation of being difficult, elitist and, to be honest, irrelevant in the 21st Century. I’ve dabbled with Marcus Aurelius, Cicero and Lucretius but that’s about it (at least cover to cover reading) and dipped into Plato, Aristotle and the Stoics during my last University course but, at least so far, that’s as far as it goes. OK it’s probably a lot more than the average non-Public School person but still it’s pretty pitiful. I have probably another 30-40 such classics scattered around in various piles that I fully intend to pick up at some point. This excellent volume – basically a collection of some of the author’s many reviews – has definitely increased the odds that I’ll actually do this. It will also definitely make me look at what I’ll be reading in new and (hopefully) interesting ways.

One of the many things that made me laugh whilst reading this book (who would have thought that discussions of ancient Greek literature could be laugh out loud funny?) was the idea that the more readable the translation of the Greek original the less accurate it was likely to be – especially regarding Thucydides who apparently didn’t say his much quoted comment about the abuse of power (or at least not in the catchy way it’s remembered and often use – including by me). When I read him – and other Greek authors in future – I’ll keep that in mind.

Of course the surprising thing is that so much of ancient literature survived to be read in the 21st Century. Amusingly the author regards the examples we do have as the classical equivalent of random waste paper baskets from random office buildings. Some Greek poets left behind less than 20 lines of their work. How, she says, are we supposed to understand their work or their lives from such findings? It’s a good question. How much do we really know about this period? Not as much as we think we do it seems!

This was another of those books I picked up in my local (chain) bookstore because it was something different and something that existed on the edges of my knowledge. Reading Aristotle at University impressed me quite a bit with his modern approach – which I now appreciate probably said much more about the translator rather than the man himself – and I look forward to reading him again in the future (despite the fact that his classic books are suspected to be nothing more than lecture notes rather than books intended for publication). I’m also looking forward to reading Julius Cesare’s epic retelling (and propaganda piece) about his conquest of Gaul as well as Xenophon’s tale of his armies retreat across the Persian Empire. So much history, philosophy and politics to take it and so many significant works of literature…. Where to start……? But if you want to get a good flavour of classical literature (and Asterix!) this is a great place to start. Recommended.