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The Reader by Bernhard Schlink. West Germany, the late 1950s. Not such a bad place, though there are a few things brewing on the horizon, i...

Love And Summer by William Trevor. We're in Ireland, probably 1960s or thereabouts, in the little town of Rathmoye. All the usual cavea...

Last of the book-related housekeeping for 2023 - I'd forgotten that I'd introduced the idea of doing a sort of loose Books Of The Y...

Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie. Breq is on Nilt. That sounds like a diet supplement involving two delicious milkshakes per day, or a produ...

I was inspired by my mention of going to school in West Bridgford in the early 1980s to try and find the two schools I went to. We were onl...

Here's a map of a short walk we did with some friends when we went up to Leicestershire to visit them for New Year. We had, collectively...

It's early January, so as well as reflecting on your New Year's resolutions, and how soon you can get away with discreetly abandonin...

I tell you what, the life of a tedious atheist is not an easy one, especially at Christmas. I know I don't complain much about it on he...

Endless Night by Agatha Christie.  Mike Rogers is a little bit WHOOOAAA, a little bit WHEEEYYY; he is, in short, a geezer . Well, perhaps t...

I can't remember how I came across this video featuring former Nirvana bassist Krist Novoselic (among others, including Soundgarden gu...

I find myself oddly uncomfortable with some of the fulsome tributes to Pogues frontman Shane MacGowan, who died a couple of weeks ago. Not ...

The Lyre Of Orpheus by Robertson Davies. Meet the Cornish family and their assorted friends and hangers-on. Well, hang on, actually we don...

Speedboat by Renata Adler. Jen Fain is, we gather, a journalist, working primarily in New York. I say "we gather" because there...