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The Tears Of The Giraffe  post reminded me of a thing I mentioned on Twitter a while back: the difficulty of accurately categorising (in ter...

Tears Of The Giraffe by Alexander McCall Smith. Precious Ramotswe is a woman of unusual talents. She runs her own detective agency in Gabor...

Brick Lane by Monica Ali. Nazneen was born in fairly unpromising circumstances in a Bangladeshi village in the late 1960s, and, being prema...

Leaving The Atocha Station by Ben Lerner. Adam Gordon. He's a poet. And he doesn't know it! No, actually he totally does know it, b...

You may recall that after the death of John le Carré in December 2020 I did a bit of retrospective rearranging of the curse list as a coupl...

The God Of Small Things by Arundhati Roy. Rahel and Estha (a girl and a boy, respectively) are fraternal twins. A bit like Topsy and Tim, o...

Sticking with the subject matter of the previous post for a minute: let's assume that the current rather tenuous claim of the Basseleg ...

I was surfing Twitter the other day when I came across this tweet: Bassaleg : old rails make a decorative and effective reinforcement to th...

I had an interesting exchange on Twitter earlier after I saw this tweet on my timeline, which basically makes the claim that, on the basis ...

My views on the monarchy as an institution are fairly well-known , and as much as I am a terrible arsehole in a general sense I do recognise...

The Death Of Grass by John Christopher. Ah, Britain. Where the sun shines (even if it rains a bit in between, as is only right and proper),...

Before I start here I should probably issue a trigger warning for discussion of GIANT GENITALIA. Anyone still harbouring trauma from real-l...

The Godfather by Mario Puzo. Heeeyyyyyyy, fuhgeddaboudit. I'm gonna make him an offer he can't refuse. Luca Brasi sleeps with the f...