A WEEK IN BOOKS

A lot of my time last week was, happily, dominated by things bookish and literary. The now annual Taunton Literary Festival, miraculously organised almost single-handedly by Lionel Ward, proprietor of our local independent book shop Brendon Books, began last week and I went along to one of the first events – an appearance by David Mitchell (not the comedian) at the Castle Hotel on Tuesday morning. Succumbing to the relentless twitter campaign prior to its publication I read The Bone Clocks and thoroughly enjoyed most of it. It has several intriguing storylines and characters, is well-paced and easy to read and promised, if not a profound conclusion, then at least a memorable twist or unexpected outcome. But around three-quarters of the way through the book the supernatural, time-travelling, fantasy element of the story that was always lurking in the background suddenly kicked in with a vengeance and I was immediately and completely lost. Lost and uninterested I'm afraid. So much so that I really didn't much care how it all ended. Reviews of The Bone Clocks have been predictably favourable but the only notice that rang true for me was Kate Saunders' in The Literary Review and I quote : 

 “The publisher's blurb describes 'The Bone Clocks' as a 'metaphysical thriller' and I don't know what this means, unless it's 'Harry Potter for grown-ups'. Sorry if this sounds unkind, but grown-up novels that deal in supernatural jiggery-pokery are hard to take seriously as works of art, so it's best to just lighten up. 'Cloud Atlas' missed the Booker in 2004 but it did win the Richard and Judy Best Read of the Year and it was made into a film – which only goes to show how brilliantly entertaining David Mitchell's writing can be. 'The Bone Clocks' is the kind of delicious, intricate nonsense that cries out to be read at leisure beside a fire”.  

So I was interested to find out whether Mr.Mitchell would be able to elucidate on the more fanciful aspects of his book and explain what it's all about. Unfortunately though he just read a passage from the book (which wouldn't have had any meaning if you didn't vaguely know the plot) and then answered questions from the ever-so-slightly fawning audience. Mr.Mitchell was terribly polite, humble and well, very nice. But it also all seemed a little lightweight and insubstantial. I was hoping I might come away with the intention of re-reading The Bone Clocks to discover what I might have missed first time around but with all the other books I just have to read I don't think there's time.

And on the subject of book acquisitions, the last couple of weeks have been particularly fruitful especially as some of them were birthday presents. Here's my haul :

Legend Of A Suicide by David Vann (£2.49 Phoenix Books, Crewkerne)

The Disappearance by Derek Marlow (£1.25 Phoenix Books, Crewkerne)

Hard Travellin' by Kenneth Allsop (£1.25 Phoenix Books, Crewkerne)

Empires of The Dead by David Crane

Walking The Woods and the Water by Nick Hunt

A Spy Among Friends by Ben MacIntyre

Modernity Britain : A Shake of The Dice 1959-62 by David Kynaston

Ulverton by Adam Thorpe

Travels With Epicurus by Daniel Klein

The Galapagos by Henry Nicholls

Christmas 1914 by John Hudson

Whoops! By John Lanchester

The week ended with a real highlight – a talk by Nicolas Ridley, son of Arnold Ridley (Godfrey from Dad's Army) about Arnold's life with special emphasis on his experiences as a soldier in the First World War. It took place at the Museum of Somerset in Taunton as part of their season of events to commemorate the beginning of the Great War. Nicolas Ridley has written a wonderful book – Godfrey's Ghost : From Father To Son, which is really an extended letter to Nicolas' son Christopher that is intended to ensure that he appreciates the full life and character of the grandfather he didn't know. Doddery old Godfrey was but a small, if not insignificant, episode in Arnold Ridley's life and Nicolas has done a marvellous job in expanding our knowledge and appreciation of this colourful man's rich, and turbulent, life. Bizarrely enough I first heard of the book when DJ Andrew Weatherall recommended it in an interview he gave. I sought it out, read it and was entranced, both by the book's content and its style. Nicolas Ridley was a thoroughly charming, amusing speaker who talked affectionately about his father and, refreshingly, quite critically about the ways in which the horrors of the Great War were being 'celebrated' in some quarters. Definitely one of the best volumes of biography/memoir that I've read for a while. Perhaps a future Slightly Foxed edition?