It’s raining!

It’s raining today because all week the weather has been good and thus, I had made plans to spend both Saturday and Sunday in the forest (trying to photo some of the newly born deer).

Thus, am stuck indoors.

Luckily, the postman has just been – with a present – The Encyclopedia of Fungi. Thank you Briony!

I am hoping that the weather is better tomorrow so that, armed with the new reference, I can go searching for some Pleurotus Ostreatus (Oyster mushrooms to you). There were some to the east of the forest about this time last year.

And, who knows, I might even see a baby deer!

All the best

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Swift, Graham – Waterland

I bought this in Cambridge in January.

I put it to one side, lost it and then, a few days ago, found it again.

I started reading it after work on Friday (obviously, for the fourth or fifth time).

I slept for about one hour on Friday night.

Then I awoke to continue reading.

At work on Monday, they’ll ask me what I did at the weekend.

“Ours was the marsh country”, I’ll say…

All the best

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Curtis, Richard – Notting Hill – Film Script

If possible – even better than the film.

Contains lots of lines that, inexplicably, didn’t make it to the screen. See below….

William Thacker (Hugh Grant) and Anna Scott (Julia Roberts) have just split up.

William’s Living Room. Evening.

William is emptying Anna Scott videos into a rubbish bag. Spike, the Welsh lodger, watches in disbelief.

Spike : What’s going on?

William : I’m going to throw out these old videos.

Spike : No. You can’t bin these. They’re classics. I’m not allowing this.

William : Right – let’s talk about rent….

Spike : Let me help. We don’t want all this shit cluttering up our lives.

I want a sexy cardie.

I want a stunt bottom.

I want the last brownie (it’s a very good brownie, you know).

I want to be Richard Curtis….. when I grow up.

All the best

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Welsh, Irving – Glue

I admit to giving up at about page 450 (it’s a long book) before taking a peek at the end.

Glue is written (like all Welsh’s books) in Scottish dialect, and I now find that too much (It’s bad enough having to think in French all the time and also having to deal with our regional, rural dialect).

Glue is a better book than Filth (Welsh’s last effort).

This makes it his fifth best book.

I’m probably now doomed to say….

No ma type likesay. Bit top-heavy n that. Still, he’s goat his ain stuff an eh’s jist gaunny press on – ken?

All the best

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Haddon, Mark – Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time

One of the strangest books I’ve read for a long time. I re-read after a visit to Southampton at the start of March; perhaps to see if it contained any references to Chavs – it’s a long story.

You’re better off not asking.

The first chapter – chapter two (each chapter is a prime number. Thus, no chapters four, six, eight, nine etc.). is almost perfect in its clarity.

Jealous, you ask?

YOU BET!

All the best

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Chatwin, Bruce – On the Black Hill

Why is it that this, the only fiction that Chatwin is considered to have written is, actually, a family biography whilst his travelogues and commentaries are almost completely fiction?

Very prettily written (I understand that editors used to line up to commit suicide every time Chatwin finished a book – perhaps I exagerate slightly here), it does (in a way that is almost unique to the author) take you to a different time and place.

Who cares about Chatwin’s strange, strange personal life (apart, that is, from me)?

He has (or rather, had) the writer’s true (and only) trick.

The ability to suspend disbelief.

All the best

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Simpson, Joe – Dark Shadows Falling

Once upon a time I was a very stressed IT person who spent too much money on books and wine.

On Good Friday 1999, I went shopping in Illford and came home with (as usual) an armload of books.

One of which was this one.

I’m not sure why I bought it – it was the first mountaineering book that I ever bought and the only reason that I think that it came home with me was that Waterstones were doing a‘three books for the price of two’ promotion and this was the third book, picked up at random.

Whatever the reason, I can still remember sitting in the back garden with a bottle of wine and a pile of books (maybe twenty or thirty of them), trying to work out which one I was going to read first.

I picked up Dark Shadows Falling and expected to put it straight in the Read it someday – probably never pile.

It was very hot, the Easter of 1999, and it seemed rather strange to find myself, three hours later, sunburnt but entranced by Joe’s tales of people dying of exposure, all alone, high up on Everest.

To understand the book, you really need to read ‘Into Thin Air’ by John Krakaeur (and all the other books about the 1996 Everest disaster – there are lots, believe me).

I went back to Illford the next day and spent (I can still remember the amount) One Hundred and Forty pounds on other mountaineering books.

All of a sudden IT Support (and the pain that goes with it) made sense.

“Isn’t it risky?” People ask mountaineers about what they do for fun.

“Yes”, they answer. “It certainly is”. Yes, I say to myself (thinking about IT Support) – It certainly is risky.

“But aren’t you scared that you’ll die slowly, all alone, in a far off place?” Mountaineers commonly get asked.

“I get scared sometimes – it wouldn’t be fun otherwise.” The mountaineers reply. Yes, I say to myself (thinking about IT Support) – I got scared sometimes – I just can’t remember the fun.

Please read this book (or Into Thin Air); Rob Hall’s last radio conversation with his wife (he was high up, and all alone, on Everest, she was pregnant and at home in New Zealand) is the saddest thing I have ever read.

And I mean ever; nothing else even comes close.

His last broadcast words (to a wife who knew that there could be no hope), “Sleep well, my sweetheart. Please don’t worry too much”, will move this, hard bitten abattoir worker to tears – every time!

All the best

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Block, Thomas – Airship None

Also bought during my March visit to Southampton.

An ‘End of the World’ story where, after a nuclear war, all who are left alive are a group of Russians on a battleship and a group of Americans aboard an airship.

The twenty pence I spent on it was about nineteen pence too much.

It makes Extinction (by Ray Hammond) look like the Brothers Karamazov.

All the best

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Oh, am I tired!

After an exciting and enjoyable three days in England, I got home very late last night.

Actually, very early this morning.

Mr Muppet here managed to take the wrong turn off the Rennes Periphique – I can’t understand how, it’s nearly impossible to do – and didn’t realise until he was close to the outskirts of Marseilles (perhaps I exaggerate, slightly).

Cats were very unhappy that I had deserted them again.

They were unhappy, that is, until I shared out their presents from ‘The Old Country’. I would be better off with children – they would be less trouble, I’m sure.

Enjoyed seeing everyone (and meeting Rick). Paul – I hope you’re feeling better soon!

All the best

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Grisham, John – The Broker

Also bought on the boat (see SHIT by Ray Hammond – sorry, Extinction by Ray Hammond).

I like Grisham. I know that he gets a little bit Jeffrey Archer at times but he’s nowhere near as patronising, actually went to university & doesn’t (as far as I know), consort with prostitues or tell lies to the courts.

And, whilst sometimes, his plots are a little bit mechanical, he doesn’t go round dropping enormous hints and he doesn’t treat us like idiots repeating the clues to ensure that we understand.

Yes Jeffrey, you may have had a pooh at Buckingham Palace or No 10 more times than I’ve had hot dinners. But that doesn’t make you a better man – believe me, it doesn’t.

The Broker slightly misses the target, I think, as Grisham’s obvious (and admitted) love for Italy obscures the main story a bit.

Not as good as Time to Kill, The Firm or The Brethren but it would have been a good way to while away ten hours on a cross channel ferry.

Much better, in any case, than reading Excrement by Ray Hammond.

All the best

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Hammond, Ray – Extinction

I bought this on the boat coming over to visit Briony & Jake et al. in early March.

I’m not sure if it represents the worst seven pounds that I’ve ever spent but it must come close.

For an objective review – SHIT is too kind a word.

Actually, it’s so bad, it gives me hope!

Take my advice. Only attempt to read this book if you have nothing else and are sitting in the bar of a cross-channel ferry, trying to recover from a hangover and have nothing better to do for the next ten hours or so.

All the best

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Welcome to the Books Page

What I’ve read recently (and why).

A girl at work said to me last week “You like books, don’t you?”

A bit pretentiously, I said “You breathe, I read – it’s the same thing.”

I went on to explain that every book I read is like falling in love. But better….

When I am finished with Betty (Currently reading Betty Blue – Phillipe Djian), she wil go on the shelf near to Emma (Bovary), Jenny (Love Story) and so on. All patiently and loyally waiting for me to return.

But sometimes it’s even better; sometimes I come across a book that was written for me, just for me and me alone. Madame Bovary, Le Petit Prince and La Peste are ones that come to mind.

It’s strange they’re all French – I think I shall have to think about that, a little bit.

All the best

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Happy birthday Jake!

Am coming back to England tomorrow (for two days only) for Jake’s 18th birthday (and to visit the bank to try and sort out some way of transfering money that doesn’t involve a 3 week wait, numerous letters and vast amounts of stress. I don’t do stress, anymore).

Obviously, Jake has had a very hard life (no, I’m not talking about his mother here). He was, at an early age, inflicted with The Worst Godfather in the World.

Now that he’s 18, it is probably too late to do anything to change things and, if he has grown up to be a decent person (I am assured that he has), it is in spite of me rather than down to anything that I have done.

So, I’ll take the opportunity here to wish Jake a happy birthday (how come you’re eighteen, mate? It seems like only a few years ago that you were born – where’s the time gone?).

It’s much too late, I know. But, if (or rather, when) ‘French for Beginners’ is published, it will be dedicated as follows..

For Jake and Sofia-Josephine – from the worst godfather in the world.

Sofia is another godchild – also unlucky in that she was also inflicted (by her parents, who should have known better) with the worst godfather in the world.

All the best

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