Christmas Reading: Amy Poehler, Katherine Boo, Stephen Fry, Hilary Mantel and George Orwell

One of the things I inevitably do a lot of over Christmas, other than eating until I feel sick and watching way too much TV, is get stuck in to some serious reading.

This year I managed five and a bit books in three weeks (two of holiday, one of being ill and off work with a horrible chest infection) which I consider very much time well spent. Here’s what I thought of everything I read over my festive and sickness period, in case you were wondering.

Amy Poehler - Yes Please
Cards on the table: Amy Poehler is my personal goddess so if you’re looking for a reasoned critique of her book then you best go elsewhere. Unsurprisingly, I loved every page of this. Part memoir, part manifesto, with some poems and photos thrown in for good measure, this is a supremely entertaining read. The memoir parts are interesting and enjoyably self-deprecating, the manifesto parts are right on. I loved the chapter on how you should treat your career like a bad boyfriend. Preach sister! Highly recommended for fellow Poehler fans and Parks and Rec obsessives, people interested in breaking into comedy and anyone who thinks they would enjoy haikus about plastic surgery (ie everyone).

Katherine Boo - Behind the Beautiful Forevers
Regular readers will recall how much I loved the National Theatre’s stage version of this and the book is equally, if not more, gripping. Undoubtedly the most absorbing piece of longform journalism I’ve ever read, the book rivals the best novels in its storytelling prowess (great word). Completely worthy of the multiple glowing reviews that litter the front and back covers. You don’t need to have seen the stage version to love the book, but if you have you will enjoy it on another level. (And if you haven’t seen the stage version then what are you waiting for?)

Stephen Fry - More Fool Me
This book demonstrates the law of diminishing returns when it comes to autobiographies. This is the third autobiog Stephen Fry has released and it’s by far the most self indulgent and least interesting. With the main narrative thrust being his 1990s cocaine addiction, though this is frequently forgotten, the book is an enjoyable enough read - some great Kenneth Branagh anecdotes were my personal highlight - but I don’t really understand the purpose of it. If you want to read a Fry autobiography, ignore this one and pick up the fantastic first volume, Moab Is My Washpot, instead.

Hilary Mantel - The Assassination of Margaret Thatcher
This reminded me that I’m not a huge fan of short stories. A collection of Mantel’s more recent offerings in that genre - the titular, controversy baiting, tale is the only new offering - it’s a good read nonetheless. Some of the stories are great, particularly Harley Street which has a fantastic and genuinely unexpected twist, some of them are so-so but certainly none of them are anything like poor. They’re also not anything like as good as her novels though so if you’re looking for a Mantel book to read I’d suggest you start there. Speaking of which…

Hilary Mantel - A Place of Greater Safety
Ok, so I didn’t read the whole 800 pages over the Christmas break but I did finish it off and it’s superb. Telling the story of the French Revolution through the eyes of three of its protagonists (Maximilien Robespierre, Camille Desmoulins and Georges Danton), this is Mantel at her historical fiction best. The characterisation is razor sharp, the action is fast paced and vividly drawn and, even though it’s a long old read, it’s a supremely rewarding one. Not quite as good as Wolf Hall/Bring Up The Bodies, but not far off.

George Orwell - Animal Farm
I picked this up as a stopgap in between finishing APOGS and getting new books at Christmas, which was an ill-judged move as it’s so short and so readable that it lasted me barely a day. More accessible and less harrowing than 1984, this is considered a classic for a reason and one everyone should read at some point in their lives. One of my favourite characters was the spoiled, precious pony who flees the farm at the first sign of socialism, which probably gives you a pretty accurate insight in to my psyche.

Book Review: Mary Boleyn - Alison Weir

If I say the name Mary Boleyn to you, what instantly comes to mind?

I'll give you a minute.

If anything, I'm guessing you got as far as Anne Boleyn's sister? Henry VIII's mistress? Francois I's mistress? Well done, because that's about as much as anyone knows about her.

She's also a really interesting and sympathetic character in Wolf Hall which is why I decided I wanted to devote my precious free time to reading a whole book about her. Plus I really enjoyed Alison Weir's Six Wives of Henry VIII (featuring, of course, a Mary Boleyn cameo). An Alison Weir biography of Mary Boleyn seemed right up my street.

And it was, to a very large extent. Weir's book - Mary Boleyn: 'the Great and Infamous Whore' - is extremely compelling and immaculately researched. The writing is, as Weir's books always seem to be, some of the best in popular history; accessible, intensely readable and assuming only the most basic prior knowledge. Drawing on contemporary sources, and often discrediting later ones, the book paints a much fuller picture of 'the other Boleyn girl' than you'll get from any fictional account. She's not just Anne's sister or Henry's mistress, she's an interesting character in her own right who Weir clearly feels affection for.

Perhaps the most enjoyable aspect of the book is its comprehensive debunking of many of the accepted facts about Mary and her life. Did Francois I ever called Mary 'the great and infamous whore'? Nope, there's no credible evidence for that. Think her son, Henry Carey, was Henry VIII's bastard? Sorry, wrong again. Despite a lot of academics, contemporary and modern, suggesting that he was there's no credible evidence for that either. (Interestingly, Weir builds a very credible case that Mary's daughter, Catherine, is a much more credible potential Royal bastard.)

How about Mary herself, was she stupid and unimpressive? Well, she clearly had some questionable taste in men in her early years but the idea that she was the slack jawed yokel of the Boleyn clan is a gross oversimplification. And she was the last of the Boleyn siblings to die, happily married and in obscurity, so she can't have been that stupid now, can she?

The examination of contemporary sources to provide the evidence for all of this debunking is incredibly impressive, almost forensic. It's difficult to argue with any of Weir's conclusions without doing some serious research yourself. Who has time for that, really?

I suppose the only thing that spoiled my enjoyment of this book is that the contemporary sources on Mary are so few and as a result there are so many things that we will just never know about her. I'm no historian - this much is probably apparent - and I like my pop-history books to be able to give me some definitive facts. There are just so few of these about Mary Boleyn. After a while, I found the constant uncertainty frustrating. This isn't Weir's fault, clearly, but I just found it annoying that there's no way to prove all of her excellently constructed arguments right or wrong. I dropped history at AS level for a reason, I suppose.

Weir has written extensively on the Tudor period and, since I'm still going through my Tudor phase (though how long that will last since I've just picked up Hilary Mantel's French revolution set A Place of Greater Safety remains to be seen), I intend to read more. I'd certainly highly recommend Mary Boleyn to anyone interested in learning more about its much maligned subject, the Boleyn family generally and Henry VIII's court.

10 Books that have stayed with me

Have you seen the '10 books that stayed with me' Facebook meme? You know, the one where - funnily enough - you name ten books that have stayed with you in some way and explain why. I mean, the clue's in the name really.

Anyway, I got tagged in it and as an avowed bookworm of 28 years standing I thought I'd give it a bash. I cannot abide long Facebook posts though - they make my page look messy and upset my OCD - so I've decided to do it as a blog post instead. I'm a rebel like that.

So here are my ten, in some kind of rough chronological order sort of:

1. The Very Hungry Caterpillar - Eric Carle
The first book I ever remember reading by myself. It's not big and it's not clever, but my god did I love it. If you're unaware of the highly complex plot, a caterpillar is born and proceeds to eat a lot until it turns into a butterfly. On the way, your author (aged approximately three at the time) learned numbers, days of the week and different fruit. The collage style illustrations are gorgeous too. Apparently this is also George W Bush's favourite book. Make of that what you will.

2. Sam's Sandwich - David Pelham
Another high brow option, Sam's Sandwich is about a boy making a sandwich for his sister and putting lots of bugs and gross stuff in it in the process. This one has stayed with me because I strongly remember my mum reading it to me and I know it's one of her favourite kids books that she's always used in her teaching career, which makes it doubly special because I know what an amazing teacher my mum is and how many other kids loved hearing her read my copy of this book as much as I did.

3. The Jolly Christmas Postman - Janet and Alan Ahlberg
I swear we get out of kids books in a while. Another one that I remember reading with my parents and I loved it because it was reading but it also had little surprises and games in it (I remember a jigsaw in particular) which I thought was basically magic at the time.

4. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
I think this is the first 'grown up' book I read by myself. I read all of Roald Dahl's books when I was growing up - either for school or for pleasure - and it was hard to pick just one for this list. The Twits, Matilda and The BFG could easily be on here too. I went with Charlie and the Chocolate Factory in the end because it was the first one I read and I can still remember exactly what my copy looked like (hardback with a purple and orange striped spine if you were wondering). Plus it's just such a lovely story. I think it should be mandatory that everyone read it at least once before the age of 18.

5. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - J K Rowling
My relationship with Harry Potter got off to a slow start. I didn't read any of the books and was initially fairly ambivalent to the films (apart from the second one, because Lockhart). Then when the final book was released my dad bought it for me for me basically as a joke (and because it was only £5 at Asda). I reluctantly sat down to have a read through...and from about page 7 was completely hooked. I've subsequently read all the books several times and become obsessed with the series and the world around it. Thanks dad (and Asda).

6. The Liar - Stephen Fry
I read this by the pool on holiday in Greece (Zante, because I am a deeply classy person) and loved it. Stephen Fry's novels are fantastic and this was my gateway into them. It's a fantastically written, fantastically weird story (no spoilers - you should read it yourself) with fantastically realised characters that I think I read in two days, if that. This one isn't included for any sentimental reason or anything, just because it's one of the books I've most enjoyed reading.

7. Beginning - Kenneth Branagh
I love autobiographies so there had to be a couple on this list. I've reviewed this on the blog recently and I just love it. I'm not much of a re-reader but this is one I've read all the way through a couple of times and dip into whenever I need a bit of a motivational shot in the arm. As I've said, it's such an inspirational book (KenBran is my hero on so many levels) and it also contains the following epic quote about being 28 that I just adore: "at twenty-eight, the chances of really knowing something are slim, and the possibility of losing what grasp you do have, great". Preach. 

8. Red Carpets and Other Banana Skins - Rupert Everett
Another autobiography, another book I've reread and another I'm including just because it's so enjoyable. I dip into this one whenever I need a pick me up or am in the mood for some grade A bitchiness. The follow up, The Vanished Years, is also utterly fabulous.

9. Bread - Paul Hollywood
Do cookbooks count? I'm going to say that they do. I mean, it's a book right? Arguably, this book is the one on the list that's had the most impact on me as a person. See, I had a long period of unemployment in 2012/3 and I did not care for it. Which is to say I utterly, utterly hated it and spent a huge amount of tine feeling completely miserable and useless. One of the things that really helped me get through was learning to make my own bread and this was the book that inspired - and taught - me to do that. I've made loads of the recipes from this book and they're all super easy to follow and basically idiot proof. And much cheaper than therapy.

10. Wolf Hall - Hilary Mantel
The best book I've ever read, full stop. Pretty easy really.

Now I know I have some bookworms amongst my readers, so step up people. You know who you are...

Book Review: Blood and Beauty - Sarah Dunant

How to get me to read your book step one: put a review on the cover from the New York Times comparing it to Wolf Hall.

How to get me to read your book step two: put it in a Waterstones two for one offer.

This is essentially how I found myself reading Sarah Dunant’s Blood and Beauty this month. The book tells the story of the Borgias - focussing on Rodrigo, Cesare and Lucrezia - over a pretty eventful few years. The story starts with patriarch Rodrigo scheming his way to becoming Pope and tells the story of everything that the family do to preserve and increase their own power and wealth. This includes six tactical marriages (three to Lucrezia), the fathering of four children (half by the Pope), several murders (including the eldest Borgia son, Juan), a bloody war on the Italian states north of Rome waged by Cesare and more political scheming than you can shake a stick at. It’s certainly not an uneventful book.

It’s already easy to see why the book could be compared to Wolf Hall: broadly similar historical period, similar themes, even a similar plot in some ways. But the way both books treat their central figures that really makes the comparison stick. Wolf Hall is of course famous for it’s ‘rehabilitation’ of Thomas Cromwell as a well meaning, family orientated, loyal lieutenant rather than the brutal bully which he is more often portrayed as. In the same way, Blood and Beauty offers a much more rounded and less hysterical portrayal of the Borgias than they usually receive. Lucrezia in particular is a much more human character than usual, though admittedly the book only deals with the early part of her life.

The book definitely benefits from this. I have read some Borgia-based fiction before and, basically, it was just porn and people getting stabbed with very little regard for anything resembling a plot. Not really what I’m looking for in my historical fiction, y’know? Blood and Beauty gives an actual, complete story about actual, complete people and gives them believable motives for what they’re doing, even if they’re motives and actions which are difficult to defend. The characterisation is great throughout.

It’s generally well written too. It’s engaging, pacy and really readable. The 500-odd pages fly by so before you know it you’re half way through. I can’t remember the last time I read a book so fast. That’s not to say it’s perfect though and the comparison to Wolf Hall certainly doesn’t stretch as far as the quality of the writing (but then very few books do). There are times when Dunant’s writing style - third person but clearly representing the viewpoint of a specific character - becomes a bit muddled and on a number of occasions I had to read back to work out who the ‘he’ or ‘she’ she was referring to was. That’s a small point though and certainly didn’t detract from my enjoyment of the book overall.

Whilst Blood and Beauty isn’t a genre defining work in the way that Wolf Hall is, it’s certainly a good example of historical fiction and a really good read. I was glad to see in Dunant’s closing note that there’s a sequel to come. I’ll definitely be picking that up.

Book review: An English Affair - Richard Davenport-Hines

Remember Stephen Ward, the Andrew Lloyd Weber musical with the artistic and musical merit of a discarded crisp packet?

I do. I hope the night terrors will stop soon.

Anyway, Stephen Ward  was based on the true story of, funnily enough, Stephen Ward the ‘society osteopath’ who was unjustly scapegoated during the Profumo affair, when Minister for War Jack Profumo was caught having an affair with young party girl Christine Keeler who was also alleged to be sleeping with a Russian naval attache. With the press, and the Labour opposition in Parliament, playing the whole sorry mess out to be an issue of national security, the ‘Establishment’ - police, press and politicians - decided that they needed someone to take the blame and, crucially, distract attention. Stephen Ward was that man, with a blatant police fix up and a horrific show trial leading to his eventual suicide.

It’s a fantastic, disgusting, story which should’ve made a great show. Except it obviously didn’t. On any level. It did make me aware of the story though even if, given how awful every other aspect of the show was, I was sceptical about its veracity.

Fast forward a couple of months and I got Richard Davenport-Hines’ An English Affair: Sex, Class and Power in the Age of Profumo for my birthday. As the title perhaps suggests, it’s unfair to present this as just another book on the Profumo affair. What An English Affair sets out to do - and does - is set the wider societal context that allowed the affair to happen in the first place, offer some biographical commentary on all of the key players and only then tell the story. As such it’s split into two parts: the first about the people involved, whether individuals or groups (the press, the intelligence agencies, slum landlords and party girls all get their own chapter alongside more obvious individuals such as Profumo himself and Stephen Ward), the second telling the story.

There’s been so much written about Profumo, but this book still feels like it has new things to say. I think the structure is a big part of that. After reading part one of the book, I certainly felt like I had a much better understanding of how and, crucially, why the events happened as they did. In particular the story of the Vassall Tribunal (which concerned a civil servant who was a Soviet spy, a groundless allegation of impropriety - sexual and political - against the Minister for whom he worked, the imprisonment of two journalists for refusing to reveal their sources and the needless resignation of a Minister whom Macmillan really liked and valued) clearly had a huge impact on the way that the politicians and press reacted. The press became more hostile to the 'Establishment' in general and Macmillan's government in particular. Macmillan and his colleagues became overly defensive of their ministers, especially where allegations involving sexual impropriety were concerned. Combined, this provided the basis of a toxic cocktail that allowed the Profumo mess to become as big as it did. The book is excellent on this story and it's background. 

It also gives a fantastic overview of some of the key players. I found the chapter on Stephen Ward in particular really interesting for obvious reasons. I was not surprised to learn that ALW’s version of Ward wasn’t entirely accurate! In the musical (using the term loosely) Ward is basically presented as a 100% good guy who only wanted to help other people with little regard for himself. The reality that AEA presents is markedly more nuanced. Ward was basically a good guy, and he was certainly unfairly treated, but the idea that he was anything but self interested seems naive. In fact, he managed to drag himself into the Profumo mess by not being able to keep his mouth shut about the fact that Profumo and Keeler were seeing each other and that he’d introduced them, as well as being desperately keen to talk to anyone who’d listen about his close ties to Soviet naval attache Yevgeny Ivanov. His relationship with Ivanov is illustrative of his personality as a whole - he volunteered to pass on anything Ivanov told him to MI5 without having the self awareness to realise that MI5 saw him as something of a joke (and a disposable one at that) or that the information Ivanov was giving him was exactly what the Soviets wanted the British to know. He was a man who loved to feel important and desperately wanted other people to see him that way too. He seems to have been largely and tragically unsuccessful in the latter.

The second part of the book, that concerned with the events of the Profumo affair, is equally eye-opening and pleasingly polemic. The author is clearly, and rightly, sickened by what happened and successfully exposes a number of the most common myths and outright lies involved in every stage of the case. For example, there's no credible evidence that Keeler and Ivanov ever actually slept together. Isn't that crazy? This whole palaver is based on that central event and it just never happened!

The book also exposes the dirty tricks, manipulation and outright lies that the police, press, politicians and judiciary were prepared to go to to 'get' Ward to devastating effect. Some of the best passages of the book are these - the material is infuriating (the press manipulation of Keeler, the disgusting intimidation of potential witnesses in Ward's trial were subjected to by the police, the ridiculous theatricality in his trial, the list goes on and depressingly on) and Davenport-Hines is angry without sounding like a crazy person. A difficult balance. 

An English Affair is a great read - a pleasing antidote to Stephen Ward! - and is widely available in your book selling repository of choice. Highly recommended. 

Book review: Beginning - Kenneth Branagh

Here’s a question: what have Chloe and Sam from The Only Way Is Essex, Paddy from My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding and Aleksander the fictional meerkat from the Compare The Market adverts got in common?

Bare knuckle boxing? A fanatical devotion to fake tan? Sidekicks called Sergei? All good guesses, but no.

In the past few years all of the above have released autobiographies.

Isn’t that depressing? I’m sure they’re all nice people (apart from the one who’s a fictional meerkat, obviously) but, come on guys, really? The cult of the celebrity memoir, together with the celebrity perfume, is one of the things I find most depressing in the world. I mean, who is buying this stuff? And why have they got so much money to waste?

Cast your mind back 25 years and the situation was rather different. Autobiographies were reserved for people of experience (trans: old) who’d accomplished great things in their lives. The idea that someone young would publish one was ridiculed - they’d barely lived a life yet, how egotistical and ridiculous it would be of them to write their life story.

Such was the general reaction to Kenneth Branagh’s autobiography, Beginning, when he published it at the tender age of 28. The reaction and the accompanying perception that he was a complete egomaniac are something with which he is still associated today as one look at any reviews of his performance as the prototype egomaniac Gilderoy Lockhart in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, in which many critics suggested he was sending himself up, will show you. Which is a shame really since, as far as I can work out, that perception is complete and utter bollocks.

It’s also a shame for Beginning which, rather than the self absorbed rantings of an insufferable luvvie, is actually a really interesting, well written and pretty self effacing read. It’s one of only two non-fiction books that I’ve ever reread (Rupert Everett's Red Carpets and Other Banana Skins, since you asked).

It helps, as it always does, that its author has a very interesting life story. Born in Belfast and raised in Reading, Beginning tells the story of Branagh’s life until the age of 28 as he finishes filming his masterful Henry V and takes in his stint at RADA, early career and setting up the Renaissance Theatre Company - a remarkable company featuring the likes of Judi Dench and Richard Briers - en route.

For me it’s the Renaissance story which is the most interesting. For anyone with even a passing interest in theatre it’s fascinating to see the mechanics of someone setting up their own theatre company from scratch; everything from trying to devise an understudy system to securing venues and finding financial backing. Renaissance was designed to be an actor’s company, giving all its members fair conditions and the space and opportunity to create exceptional performances in a repertory context (it’s contrasted favourably with the RSC in this regard). The first season that Renaissance performed, which is discussed in detail in the book, was a cycle of three Shakespeare plays directed by great actors who had played the lead roles before; a concept which just sounds like heaven to me. It also led directly to the making of Henry V which is just another reason to love it. The story of how this was pulled off (or not, in the case of the attempts to get Anthony Hopkins to direct Macbeth) is utterly fascinating. And pretty inspiring too, frankly. I mean the force of nature you have to be to make shit like that happen is pretty awesome.

Beginning is also a beautifully written book. It’s joyously frank (in the preface, Branagh poses himself the question of why the book is being written and answers, “money”), laugh out loud funny in parts and gently self-mocking throughout. I love the stories of his early stories with chronic corpsing, struggling to assert his authority over a maverick Aussie director and attempting to learn to ride a horse. And of course there are a lot of fascinating anecdotes that feature other amazing talents (Gielgud, Jacobi etc etc etc) which all avoid coming off as vanity name dropping. I guess because they’re legitimately included as people he’s known. Which is just damn cool, frankly.

I’m not sure how easy it is to get hold of a copy of Beginning these days (I could just Google it but, y’know, I’m lazy) but if you can you definitely should. I’d offer to lend you mine but I don’t trust you to give it back. No offence. I just love this book too much to take that risk.

Book Review: Philomena

Did you see the film of Martin Sixsmith's book, Philomena, last year? 

I did, and I loved it. The film is based on Martin Sixsmith's book of the same name and, given that the book is almost always better than the film, I snapped it up when I spotted it in a Waterstones two for one offer recently.

If you're unfamiliar with the story, Philomena the film follows Irish pensioner Philomena Lee (Judi Dench) who enlists the help of cynical journalist Martin Sixsmith (Steve Coogan) as she attempts to track down the son that she, then an unwed teenager, was forced by the Catholic Church to give up as a baby. Philomena the book is the story of that baby.

It's a remarkable story too. Antony Lee, rechristened Michael Hess, was adopted by an American family, moved across the Atlantic, excelled in school and university and went on to a successful career as a lawyer, eventually becoming Chief Counsel to the Republican party. Michael Hess was also gay, had a crippling need to fit in and be accepted by the establishment and died a grisly death from AIDS.

The themes of 'outsiderness' and the psychology of being adopted are given a really interesting exploration in this book. Michael's need to fit in is desperately sad and the fact it leaves him working for a government who are actively blocking funding for AIDS treatment at a time when he is dying of it is the most awful logical conclusion of that need. It makes for a great narrative as well - one of those great biographies which is as good as any fictional stories you'll read.

I don't think you need to have seen the film to enjoy the book. Nor do you need to have read the book to enjoy the film. The film is essentially the story of the book being written, so it is genuinely interesting to look at them as companion pieces. Michael isn't a character in the film - we're shown Philomena searching for him in America, but she arrives far too late and he's already dead. On the flipside, Martin Sixsmith himself is only fleetingly a character in the book (and then only to explain his research at the end of each section) whereas in the film he looms large. 

The other major difference I found between the two is that the sense of anger at the Church that pervades the film is absent from the book. In the film, it's the character of Martin who brings this in; Martin the author does not. I think this is probably for the best - the story of Michael Hess is much more interesting than just a rant against the Catholic Church in Ireland. And frankly if you can read this book and not get angry at the Church then I question your understanding of the story. It doesn't need to be reinforced.

So if the book better than the film? I'm not sure. Both are equally good at telling different aspects of the same story and as such both are worth your time. The film is out on DVD now so pick up the two when you next have a free weekend. Go on treat yourself. You deserve it (probably).

Book review: Alison Weir - The Six Wives of Henry VIII

I'm not much of a history buff. Like most people of my age who dropped history before degree level and went to state school I know a lot about the two World Wars, a bit about the Suffragettes and not a whole lot else. And when I use the word 'know' I of course mean 'have forgotten'.

Back in the bronze age when I was in primary school we also did a bit about the Tudors. Or to put it more accurately, we also did a bit about Henry VIII. I remember being fascinated then, and a raft of excellent BBC documentaries in 2012 (I think) rekindled that fascination. Last year I also devoured Hilary Mantel's amazing series of historical novels - Wolf Hall and Bring Up The Bodies - that tell the story of Henry's marriages through the eyes of his right hand man Thomas Cromwell.

I noticed in Mantel's bibliography that the name Alison Weir kept cropping up. She'd also cropped up as an expert in some of the BBC docs. So when I spotted The Six Wives of Henry VIII, her collective biography of the six unfortunate women who married Britain's most infamous monarch, on a trip to the massive Foyles on Charing Cross Road I decided I'd give it a go.

My motivation in buying it was largely as a companion piece to whichever Mantel book I was reading at the time. I was interested to know how much of her narrative and her characters were fictionalised. But that does Weir's work a disservice. It's an excellent book in its own right and well worth reading whether or not you've read any of Mantel's books (and if you haven't then why the hell are you wasting your time reading my blog?!)

Everyone knows the story of Henry VIII and his succession of wives - divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived. I imagine/hope most people know the story of Henry divorcing Katherine of Aragon in favour of Anne Boleyn and the resulting split with Rome and religious strife it caused. I guess most people won't know much more than that.

Weir's book concerns itself with telling the stories of all six of the women's lives as well as that of Henry himself and other key figures in the story, including Cromwell. It's told chronologically (so Katherine and Anne do take up more of the book than the other four wives) and researched from contemporary sources.

The quality of the research, to this untrained eye, is impeccable and the analysis offered - informed and balanced, particularly on the more divisive figures involved such as Anne and Mary Boleyn - is one of the major things that makes the book so good. It's also written in an incredibly straightforward and accessible way so that even an idiot like me can follow the story, with its huge cast of characters, and understand the analysis. There's also a refreshing lack of moral judgement of any of the characters too, something that the BBC documentaries and many of the articles analysing Mantel's books suggest is pretty rare on this topic.

For me, the book is at its best when talking about some of the lesser known wives. I particularly enjoyed the chapters about Katherine Parr (who I think is my favourite wife) and Catherine Howard who I didn't really know anything about before reading the book. Mary Boleyn also emerges from the book (and Mantel's) as an amazing character and I've bought Weir's biography of her too.

Overall it's a great read. Did I enjoy it more because of my love for Wolf Hall et al? Probably - it's fascinating to see Mantel's characters as real people, especially as many of the ones I assumed she'd made up are in fact real, especially Thomas Cromwell.

Is it a brilliant book anyway? Yes: it's accessible, interesting and I genuinely learned lots. Highly recommended.

Book club - Mary Berry: Recipe for Life

I adore Mary Berry. 

Genuinely, I absolutely love her. If, in 50 years time, I'm anywhere near as talented, as active and as glamorous as she is I will consider my life well lived. She's awesome.

Up until I read her autobiography - Recipe for Life - I would've said that I love literally everything about her and it would've been true. But I did not love this book. In parts I didn't even like this book. 

See, here's the thing: Recipe for Life is just not that interesting. I think there are three main reasons for this. 

The first is that, if you watched the BBC documentary about lovely Mary's life (The Mary Berry Story), there's not a lot that's new in the narrative of the book. The narrative is interesting - especially the parts about Mary's early battle with polio and, later, the tragic death of one of her sons - but if you watched the documentary you know all of this already. Yes, you get more detail but it's difficult to get too excited about a story you already know.

Especially as the style that story is written in is so saccharine it'll strip the enamel from your teeth. I feel genuinely quite harsh saying this, as the style and voice are very authentically and recognisably Mary. Words like 'dishy', 'scrummy' and 'gosh' are one of the things that make Mary so, well, Mary. But what is so appealing and sweet over the course of an hour long episode of Bake Off becomes pretty grating over the course of a 350 page book. Maybe it's just me (it usually is, I find) but it's all just too Jolly Hockey Sticks for me. 

I also have issues with some of the content selection. There's one chapter - out of I think 19 - about Bake Off and, frankly, it's just not very interesting. If you're looking for backstage gossip or interesting 'making-of' tidbits then go elsewhere. There's also one chapter entirely devoted to Mary's love of gardening which is, at least to me, mind-numbingly dull. And should gardening really get the same number of chapters in this book as Bake Off? I rather think not.  

There's also a running theme of 'I hated school and reading' running through the book which sometimes reads like disdain for people who liked school and enjoy reading. I don't think this is intentional - if it is, writing an autobiography is weird! - but it irked me sufficiently for me to notice.

It's not that this book is bad, and if you haven't seen that documentary it's probably really interesting, but it's not great either. Which is a shame. Because criticising Saint Bezza makes me feel like an utter shit.

Holiday Reading: Maajid Nawaz, Nick Offerman and Rob Delaney

 

So Christmas TV was pretty shit this year, right? Elaine 'world's most annoying woman' Paige on Strictly, the terrible mess that was the Open All Hours new episode and a Doctor Who with a storyline so impenetrably dull and nonsensical it could've been a film on SyFy. And of course repeats. So many repeats.

On the plus side, more time for books. I read three cover to cover over the holiday (and started another, of which more at some point in the future) so here are some potted and uninsightful reviews for your convenience... (Spoiler: I like autobiographies.)

Maajid Nawaz - Radical

Maajid Nawaz is a very interesting character. Currently head of the counter-extremism group Quilliam (of getting Tommy Robinson to quit the EDL fame) and a Lib Dem Parliamentary Candidate, he spent much of his earlier life as a die hard believer in political Islamism. He was a prominent member of the Islamist group Hizb al Tahrir, something which landed him with a lengthy stay in Egypt's notorious prison system including one of its secret torture jails.

Radical is his autobiography. It deals with the entirety of his relationship with Islamism, including how he became involved, his experiences as an HT member and how and why he came to disown the ideology of extremism. It's undeniably an interesting and compelling story. It's a very vivid and well written illustration of the way Islamism works and how it can become so pervasive so quickly.

What it's not is anything new. If you're looking for new insights into how extremism works and what we can do to counter it - which I think it's reasonable to expect given the author - then you'll be disappointed. This is especially so if you've read Nawaz's friend and Quilliam cofounder Ed Husain's excellent The Islamist and we're expecting something similarly rigorous. I was and felt a bit short changed.

As a piece of autobiography it's worth a look though. Just make sure you pick up The Islamist at the same time.

Nick Offerman - Paddle Your Own Canoe

If Ron Swanson - Offerman's phenomenally awesome Parks and Rec character - had written an autobiography it would definitely not be this book.

Although there are plenty of woodworking tips (the book's title is both a literal and figurative instruction - he does describe how you would go about building your own canoe) and odes to red meat and facial hair, this book is not some kind of Swanson's guide to life. It's much more rounded, almost as if Nick Offerman and Ron Swanson are not in fact the same. Who knew?

Canoe is the very funny lifestory of an actor/carpenter combined with some very funny ranting on topics dear to the author's heart. The autobiographical part of the book (each chapter is split, part autobiography part rant) is genuinely interesting, genuinely funny and genuinely touching in parts. And Parks and Rec fans won't be disappointed by the on-set anecdotes about Chris Pratt and his ability to craft model vaginas from candy floss. The topic specific rants were my favourite part though and I agreed with almost every one, from the importance and pleasure to be gained from making things to this perfect summation of my views on organised religion:

Highly recommended.

Rob Delaney - Wife. Mother. Sister. Human. Warrior. Falcon. Yardstick. Turban. Cabbage.

Yeah, the title of this book pretty much sums up its humour and why it's awesome.

Rob Delaney's ('the funniest man on twitter') excellent autobiography is the first book in a long time I've read in one sitting. And I can't emphasise the word 'excellent' there enough.

I expected this book to be hilariously funny and it didn't disappoint. The dark, dirty, slightly surreal comedy Delaney specialises in on Twitter is evident throughout. One of the bits that made me giggle like a loon was his description of how he learned to masturbate whilst suffering from two broken arms. If this sounds like your sense of humour also then a) we should be friends and b) this book is for you.

What I possibly didn't expect was how touching this book would be too. Delaney has struggled with alcoholism and depression and offers a very honest portrayal of both. His take on depression and the way it effects people physically and emotionally will ring very true for anyone who's either experienced this awful illness themselves or watched a friend or family member suffer with it.

A great read from cover to cover. Buy it now.

 

Posted with Blogsy

2012: I'm back baby

Well it's January and you know what that means: new year's resolutions. Huzzah and hurrah. Maybe. 

Oddly for me, I've made a few this year:

• Watch as many of my ridiculously large collection of currently unwatched DVDs as I can 
• Read more, starting with my ridiculously large collection of currently unread books (spot a theme?) 
• Take more photos
• Be more adventurous in the kitchen. I mean with cooking and recipes and stuff, not the thing you were thinking. 
• Catch up on some of the TV series I've been meaning to watch (Boardwalk Empire, The Wire, Human Remains et al) even if this means adding to that DVD collection
• The usual exercise, healthy eating one
• And, last but most relevant, try and finally keep a regular blog

So, whether you like it or not, I've returned to the blogosphere. Whether this or my diet last longer remains to be seen... 

Things I'm loving this week: #12

Favourite random news stories
Sean Bean is hard. Fact. So hard that after get glassed in a fight he went back into the pub and ordered another drink. I imagine he pulled the glass out of the wound with his teeth or something. Either way, what a legend. (Don't try this at home kids!)

Somewhat more predictably, the fact that Anton won Rear of the Year has also been keeping me amused:

Du Beke described the award as an ''absolute honour. Sadly, it has often been said that my rear is better than my front, so thank you very much indeed,'' he said.

It's nice that sometimes awards go to people who deserve them:

Photo stolen from Katie H on Facebook. 

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off for a lie down in a darkened room. 

Soundtrack to my life

At the moment I'm obsessed with Kanye West's new(ish) album My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. As the name suggests it's not for the faint hearted - or easily offended - but I love it. Not sure there's a standout track for me, I love them all, but if pressed I'd go for Monster, which also has a completely mad video (serious health warning on this - it's an incredible video, in both senses of the word, in my opinion - I love the bit with Nicki Minaj - but not without... controversy). 

Speaking of mad videos I'm also majorly loving Katy Perry's new offering, Last Friday Night. This video is a work of genius: 

Rebecca Black AND Corey Feldman? What more could you want!

New reading matter
I've just started Tony Blair's 'A Journey'. Initial thoughts are positive - it's very engagingly written and his analysis is incredibly sharp, even if I don't agree with all of it. It's also disarmingly self deprecating - very unexpected from someone like TB! I'm looking forward to getting stuck into it properly.

Best film I've seen in ages
I'm increasingly a massive comic book geek, as my Batman Converse and tickets to Batman Live will attest. So perhaps it's unsurprising that I loved X Men: First Class. It's that rarest of rare things: a big budget blockbuster with a brain. I thought both Michael Fassbender (who, incidentally, is seriously fit - how did I not know this?!) and James McAvoy were pitch perfect as the young Magneto and Professor X and I adored the scene stealing Kevin Bacon having way too much fun as a proper comic book baddy. I think pretty much everyone I know has seen this film now but if you haven't then go and go now!

Things I'm loving this... er... non specific period of time

Stop looking at me like that. I'm aware it's been a while. What can I say? Life's been a bit... life-y recently. By which I mean, if you'll excuse the language, it's been a bit of a cluster fuck. Personally and, moreover, politically things have not been great. I'm not going to dwell on either other than to say, on both counts, keep calm and carry on.

Anyway, enough of that. Here's some stuff that has been providing much needed smiles and fun:

Music

I seem to have discovered a lot of new (to me) music recently. Top top top recommendation goes to Hugh Laurie's new album 'Let Them Talk'. This is genuinely brilliant for anyone who has even a passing interesting in old school proper blues. The musicianship is astonishing. My favourite track from it, I think, is Swanee River for which the superlative has yet to be invented. Buy it. Now.

Also rocking my socks has been Alexis Jordan's eponymous début album (top track: How You Like Me Now), which is much better than it has any right to be given it came from an American Idol reject, and the excellent Bomb Shelter Sessions by Vintage Trouble. You may have seen these beyond fabulous retro rockers on Jools Holland - if not you missed a treat. Here they are doing my favourite song from the album, Blues Hand Me Down:

Books
Not that I've had much time to read, but when I have I've been absorbed by either travel guides for Malta (the destination of my much anticipated October break this year) or the thoroughly excellent 'Behind the Black Door' by Sarah Brown. This book is a completely compelling, very entertaining account of life in Downing Street by the former 'first lady'. I've not quite finished it yet, watch out for a full review when I do.

One political book I have finished recently is the amazing '22 Days in May' by the equally amazing David Laws. If you've not read this book and have the faintest interest in British politics at the moment then you really need to. The epilogue in which he outlines his hopes for the coalition explains what I believe and why I'm a Lib Dem more eloquently than I ever could.


TV
First of all, yes I did watch - and enjoy -  every second of the Royal Wedding. Let's just say that and get it out of the way. Apart from the bits with Fearne Cotton, I thought the BBC coverage was pretty good. (And, if you're wondering, my picks for Best Dressed Guest go to Lady Frederick Windsor - AKA Big Suze off of Peep Show - in deep blue Georgio Armani, Sam Cam in beautiful Burberry and Miriam Gonzalez Durantez and that amazing embellished turban.)

Second of all, yes I did watch - and enjoy - every second of Eurovision, including the two semi finals. My favourite songs were from Switzerland and Iceland. I also adored Lipstick by the ever youthful and energetic Jedward. So shoot me.

Finally, if you have Sky and enjoy trashy shit as much as I do then I implore you to check out Spartacus: Blood and Sand on Sky 1. It is... well, it's awful! It's kind of like what would have happened if a 13 year old boy had written HBO's excellent Rome. There's a lot of (fairly graphic) completely gratuitous sex and all the violence you could ever want, inexplicably shown in slow motion. I'm not really making a good case here am I? But seriously if you have a spare hour and it happens to be on then do have a look. It will make you giggle.

Finally finally, if you have Sky and enjoy properly good drama then look out for In Treatment on Sky Atlantic. Another HBO export, it stars the uber dishy Gabriel Byrne as a therapist - and he is mind blowingly good. It's not always an easy watch (each episode is a simple double hander between Byrne's therapist and one of his patients, or occasionally his own therapist) but it is just supremely good.

Things I'm loving this week

You know what? There's not enough cheeriness in my world. I'm not a naturally cheery person, to be fair, far from it. I like to think it's the combination of my Celtic and Yorkshire roots but more likely I just enjoy complaining. And I do enjoy complaining. But by way of making an effort at cheerfulness I'm introducing a new regular feature to the old blog. Nothing special or complicated, just a list of things that are making me smile each week. Hopefully it'll be more imaginative than the word 'Anton' over and over again 52 times. But we'll see.

This week I'm mostly wearing: an on trend and snuggly fringed cardigan from Topshop. I love all things Americana, and it looks like something a cowboy might wear. You can buy it here - although the sizing is generous and I'd advise you hunt it down in store and try it on first (I'm wearing a size smaller than I usually wear from Topshop and it's still lovely and loose). I'm teaming it with my most worn in jeans, bright turquoise Converse high tops and my Anton and Erin Puttin on the Ritz t shirt.

This week I'm mostly listening to: Lance Ellington (can't get enough of that man!), Cee Lo Green (the best album I've heard in ages) and Sheytoons. You may not be aware of the latter. They're a sort of folksy indie band (think Mumford) comprised of two of my favourite West End stars Ramin Karimloo (of Love Never Dies) and Hadley Fraser. The musicianship on display is awesome - these guys are scary talented. You can check out their music on YouTube, but this is my favourite song of theirs currently, Losing:



This week I'm mostly watching: Boardwalk Empire on Sky Atlantic. This week, and every week. Because it is superb. The best thing that's been on TV in so long. Steve Buscemi is my new god.

This week I'm mostly eating: At Melton's Too, my favourite restaurant ever. If you're ever in York you must go there - the seasonally changing menu is to die for. Doubly excited about this trip as my parents are coming up for a visit, thus it's free!

This week I'm mostly reading: Undisputed by Chris Jericho. It's a WWE memoir so not for everyone, but if you have even a passing interest in 'sports entertainment' it's well worth a read. Funny, readable, pleasingly naughty and full of great anecdotes about all the big name Superstars of the past few years. It's a froot book (a comment that only makes sense if you've read it).