This was a Good Thing

It's been a while since I updated my 'week in books' blog; as it is, this newest entry is not so much a 'week in books' as a 'last five weeks in books'. I've been so busy with other stuff, I just haven't got around to inflicting my worthless views on what I've been reading. So here we are: a bumper edition, covering Greek drama, theatre of the absurd, contemporary poetry, travel writing, fantasy fiction, comic parody, and jokes. As ever, the scale runs from -4 (unpickupable) to 11 (truly worth reading).


W. C. Sellar and R. J. Yeatman, 1066 and All That
This book, first published in 1930, is a masterpiece, a true one-off. For my money, anyway. Parodying all the history textbooks of yesteryear (that word, yesteryear, by the by, was coined by Dante Gabriel Rossetti in an attempt to translate a French term by the medieval poet Villon, I believe), it aims to provide the reader with what we can remember of history, rather than what actually happened. In doing so, it highlights the subjectivity of all interpretations of history, but in a light, often incredibly funny, way. I can't believe this sort of humour has dated that much. I've tried and tried to comb 'this slim volume' for suitable quotations to demonstrate just how good it is, but in the end you have to read the whole thing to get a proper feel for the humour. Just one piece of advice: read it! 11

Aristophanes, The Wasps and The Poet and the Women
Aristophanes (or Toffee, to his friends) is the most celebrated Ancient Greek comic playwright, and these two plays deal respectively with the political situation in Athens while Athens was at war with Sparta, and women's role in Athenian society. The second of these features a bit of cross-dressing that was there well before Monty Python or Little Britain, so if you like old geezers dressing up as women and going undercover to an all-woman gathering, you'll enjoy this play. They still have situations that possess comedic value, but it helps to read around a bit first, to get a feel for context. 8/9

Fred Saberhagen, Stonecutter's Story
This, the third volume in the eight-part Lost Swords series (what I like to call a 'mini-epic'), is by far and away the most enjoyable of the first three Lost Swords books (verdicts on the rest to follow when I've read them!). There's a character who, early on, reminds us of a feeble attempt to recreate Sherlock Holmes that's a bit embarrassing, but Saberhagen soon gets out of this habit and into his stride with the character. This series is a tough one for me because the characters who really shine are the Twelve Swords themselves, but as 'gadget fantasy' goes, it's all very entertaining. 8

Simon Armitage, Kid
The man who should have been Poet Laureate, Armitage can be seen as the natural successor to Larkin, though he also weaves in West Yorkshire speech patterns and voices that are more reminiscent of the great Tony Harrison. In this volume he gives us a mixed bag, but when he's on form, he's very good - as in the A-Level General Studies exam-inspired 'You May Turn Over and Begin...' or the poignant concluding poem, 'About His Person'. That was everything. 9

Various, More of The Two Ronnies
Another book of gags from the classic double-act, this contains some jokes that have aged well and others which fail to raise a titter, at least when reproduced in black and white without the comic talents of Barker and Corbett to read them out for you. Still good fun, though. 7

Harold Pinter, The Birthday Party and The Room
Pinter's first two plays (I think), these can be seen as part of the Theatre of the Absurd, and already contain Pinter's trademark use of silence and pause to create menace and unsettle the audience. Both plays feature some mysterious visitors showing up (something which seemed to happen a lot in 1950s/1960s drama), and some fine lines (though I must say, Pinter is not as quotable in this respect as Stoppard). 8/8

Bill Bryson, Down Under
As you may have guessed from the title, this book details Bryson's travels across Australia. What has made Bryson such a popular travel writer is exactly what should make a good writer popular: warmth, humour, self-deprecation, a smattering (but no more than a smattering) of funny personal anecdotes, and lots and lots of interesting facts about the history of the country he's exploring. It's the sort of book you can happily read through in one go, but then want to go back and dip into again later, to rediscover the bits about Australia's most dangerous animals and all the other eye-catching stuff. Highly recommended. I'm reading Notes from a Small Island next. 10

Right, that's the lot for this time around. Next time (whenever that may be), I'll have more plays, more poetry, and some more supernatural titles. Watch this space.