A bookworm born of circumstance
Things have been so quiet at work these last two weeks that I'm halfway through my fourth book. I'm not a slow reader, but it's not usual for me to spend the vast majority of my working day with my nose in a book!
First up was John Buchan's The thirty-nine steps, which I only knew by the reputation of Hitchcock's film. It's quite a slim volume and a little episodic in nature, but great fun nonetheless. Most pleasingly, the descriptions of the Scottish lowlands - in which a substantial portion of the novel is set - are beautifully evocative, without falling back on clichés about windswept heather. It's an absorbing read too, taking me a mere 24 hours to get through.
I kept to the classics and turned to Harper Lee's To kill a mockingbird next, a book I'd studied aged 13 and not read since. It was wonderful returning to it, all the more so as I could only recall the bare bones of the plot; I suspect a good deal of the humour had passed me by as a child, while the elegiac tone which follows the trial of Tom Robinson was fabulously moving. Many was the occasion I thought back to my English teacher's declaration that he wished he could be as good a father as Atticus Finch.
After two classics, a change of mood was needed so I picked up James Gaines' Evening in the Palace of Reason. This is perhaps best described as a simultaneous biography of J.S. Bach and Frederick the Great, built around the latter's challenge to the former which resulted in the composition of the Musical offering. A fascinating examination of both men, their backgrounds and temperaments, written in such a way as makes light of the author's scholarship - never mind the musical content, this is recommended reading for anyone interested in the history of ideas.
Andrew Greig's The return of John Macnab, which I'm currently reading, brings this bout of reading full circle. It's a delightful read, telling of three friends resurrecting this John Buchan character's challenge to poach from three Royal estates. Like Buchan, Greig is a master at describing the Scottish landscape but also succeeds in engaging the reader's emotions. This goes beyond mere tribute to stand on its own terms as a fine modern Scottish novel.
Next week is likely to be on the quiet side too, so chances are my reading won't stop there ...
First up was John Buchan's The thirty-nine steps, which I only knew by the reputation of Hitchcock's film. It's quite a slim volume and a little episodic in nature, but great fun nonetheless. Most pleasingly, the descriptions of the Scottish lowlands - in which a substantial portion of the novel is set - are beautifully evocative, without falling back on clichés about windswept heather. It's an absorbing read too, taking me a mere 24 hours to get through.
I kept to the classics and turned to Harper Lee's To kill a mockingbird next, a book I'd studied aged 13 and not read since. It was wonderful returning to it, all the more so as I could only recall the bare bones of the plot; I suspect a good deal of the humour had passed me by as a child, while the elegiac tone which follows the trial of Tom Robinson was fabulously moving. Many was the occasion I thought back to my English teacher's declaration that he wished he could be as good a father as Atticus Finch.
After two classics, a change of mood was needed so I picked up James Gaines' Evening in the Palace of Reason. This is perhaps best described as a simultaneous biography of J.S. Bach and Frederick the Great, built around the latter's challenge to the former which resulted in the composition of the Musical offering. A fascinating examination of both men, their backgrounds and temperaments, written in such a way as makes light of the author's scholarship - never mind the musical content, this is recommended reading for anyone interested in the history of ideas.
Andrew Greig's The return of John Macnab, which I'm currently reading, brings this bout of reading full circle. It's a delightful read, telling of three friends resurrecting this John Buchan character's challenge to poach from three Royal estates. Like Buchan, Greig is a master at describing the Scottish landscape but also succeeds in engaging the reader's emotions. This goes beyond mere tribute to stand on its own terms as a fine modern Scottish novel.
Next week is likely to be on the quiet side too, so chances are my reading won't stop there ...
posted by Anthony at
17:46
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