#82 The Accidental Tourist, by Anne Tyler (Vintage)

Nick Hornby is one of my favourite writers, but I’m going to have to stop taking his advice about books to read. The front of my copy of The Accidental Tourist, by Anne Tyler, sees Hornby proclaiming it is ‘brilliant, funny, sad and sensitive”, while the reverse sees the effusive writer of the likes of Fever Pitch saying ‘My favourite writer, and the best line-and-length novelist in the world, is Anne Tyler”.

It’s statements like those which influence my book selections for this challenge, but much like One Day, I find that, unfortunately, Hornby’s tastes don’t tally with my own.

I can’t entirely blame Nick. The Accidental Tourist is a Pulitzer Prize-nominated novel, so it’s clear that at least some critics agree with Hornby rather than me, and William Hurt, Kathleen Turner and Geena Davis starred in an award-winning film of the same name. But while the story was entertaining enough, it never gripped me. It was never funny enough or poignant enough to generate in me the emotional response that others have apparently experienced.

Like How to Talk to a Widower, the main character is a man recovering from grief, in his case the death of his son. He is a guidebook writer for businessmen who have no intention of seeing the sights of the places they visit, but just want to know about their home comforts – the Accidental Tourist in question. But he’s also an accidental tourist in his own life, a man who is unable to engage with others and loses his marriage as a consequence.

Into his life enters a bizarre dog trainer, who gives him the strength to rebuild his life and lead to him having to actively make a decision on how he wants to spend his remaining days, but I was never significantly moved by the ups and downs and twists and turns. Sure, there were times I raised a chuckle, but I never reached the emotional highs and lows Nick hinted at. It’s my loss, I know.

So, rating time:

#82 The Accidental Tourist, by Anne Tyler (Vintage) - 6/10

Next up: The Grapes of Wrath, by John Steinbeck (Penguin Group)

Click here for the full list of books so far, and their rating

#81 Brave New World, by Aldous Huxley (Vintage)

“Our library,” says a character in Brave New World in reply to a question as to whether the shelves have any Shakespeare, “contains only books of reference. If our young people need distraction, they can get it [elsewhere]. We don’t encourage them to indulge in any solitary amusements.”

It’s a paragraph which sums up Brave New World, Aldous Huxley’s classic view of a future in which the majority of people have not a care in the world, where war and conflict has been eradicated – but where people have merely become automatons. The contrast is provided by the savage reservations, where people have complete freedom but are forced to live primitively, forcing the conclusion that with technological progress comes a loss of liberty – a concept with which any Blackberry user would quickly concur.

Appropriately enough for this blog, literature features strongly in Brave New World. The title of the book is taken from The Tempest (Shakespeare is prominent throughout) and reading itself is a form of rebellion.

The beauty of Brave New World is its satirical subtlety. Huxley could have laid his vision of a Dystopian future on with a trowel, but it’s the smaller points which have the greatest impact. The founder of the new world order is Henry Ford, who has become a religious icon, so people exclaim ‘Ford!’ instead of ‘God’ or ‘Jesus’ and make the sign of the ‘T’ (for the Model T Ford) instead of the cross.

The most disturbing elements relate to the reproduction techniques now being used by civilised society and the promiscuity which is so prevalent, but rather than portray black and white, Huxley makes sure to paint many of the alternatives just as bleakly. It’s a book, like HG Wells’ The Time Machine or George Orwell’s1984, which poses many philosophical questions and is rather short on hope.

To that end, many claim some of Huxley’s writings have already become true. We have not yet got individual helicopters, but what’s ‘soma’ if it’s not Prozac or similar drugs, while amid recession we are encourage to embrace consumerism (“ending is better than mending; the less stitches, the more riches”).

If I had one criticism of Brave New World, it’s the ending. The plot – much criticised upon publication, apparently - isn’t exactly pulsating with life, and things come to a conclusion which is too neat, if still dreadful.

Overall then, Brave New World is on the ‘classics’ list for a reason. And you can read what the Friend of the Wench made of it here.

So, rating time:

#81 Brave New World, By Aldous Huxley (Vintage) - 8/10

Next up: The Accidental Tourist, by Anne Tyler (Vintage)

Click here for the full list of books so far, and their rating

#80 The Ballad of Trenchmouth Taggart, by Glenn Taylor (Blue Door)

Early ‘Trenchmouth’ Taggart must be one of the most incredible characters I’ve read this year, and this novel, the story of the life of a man who is an outlaw, murderer, deadshot, inventor, woodsman, musician, journalist and much more, one of the most incredible tales.

It’s a book that while you’re reading it, you’re caught up in the bizarre twists and turns he takes, from nearly drowning as a baby and receiving the oral infection which would give rise to his nickname to his final days protecting the environment and his family. Not forgetting the alcoholism, mental instability, Blues innovator, outcast and union strike periods and more in between. But once it’s completed, you take stock and ponder just how believable it really all was.

In many ways, it doesn’t matter. I’ve read many books where so much time has been spent establishing the setting that the story itself suffers. Here, the story, a real old American take, undoubtedly takes precedence and while I’m sure the places and timeline have been exhaustively researched, it wouldn’t make much difference if they hadn’t.

Whether you enjoy The Ballad of Trenchmouth Taggart will depend on what you think of the main character, an anti-hero who is compelling and repellent by turns. Me, I alternated between the two, and these feelings mirrored what I thought of the book as a whole.

So, rating time:

#80 The Ballad of Trenchmouth Taggart, by Glenn Taylor (Blue Door) - 6/10

Next up: Brave New World, By Aldous Huxley (Vintage)

#79 Outliers, by Malcolm Gladwell (Penguin Group)

Utterly brilliant.

If you’re judging the merits of the books I’m reading by the length of the reviews they generate, you’re going to be sorely disappointed in this instance because I could write for hours on the brilliance of Outliers and not do it justice. So I’m not even going to try. Suffice to say, if you haven’t read it, you’re missing out, and despite only finishing it the other day, I’ve managed to bore several people on its subject already.

A sociological study at its heart, prospective readers shouldn’t fear. Malcolm Gladwell is never anything other than a fascinating storyteller and intersperses his points, many of which are extremely provocative, with some entertaining case studies into the lives of Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, Canadian professional ice hockey players and Korean pilots and much, much more – even his own family.

Gladwell’s objective is to discover which factors contribute to someone’s success, whether reaching the top - and he’s talking about the very top - of a profession, can simply be down to innate talent and hard work, or whether it matters in which month of the year you were born. His investigations and conclusions are often incredible.

From the lessons educational systems can take from rice paddy fields, to the cultural causes of plane crashes, Outliers is gripping, inspirational, thought-provoking and, thanks to a wonderful writing style which regularly makes the complex seem simple, very readable indeed. Go read it.

So, rating time:

#79 Outliers, by Malcolm Gladwell (Penguin Group) - 10/10

Next up: The Ballad of Trenchmouth Taggart, by Glenn Taylor (Blue Door)

Click here for the full list of books so far, and their rating

#78 Better Late Than Never, by Len Goodman (Ebury Press)

A bit of a bizarre addition to the canon of 100 books for the year, perhaps. However, The Wench was given Better Late Than Never, the autobiography by Strictly Come Dancing judge Len Goodman as a joke by a friend, and given Goodman owns and runs a dance school opposite the library I regular visit, it seemed a fitting choice.

I was midway through – and struggling with – John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath at the time, and I fancied something a little easier on the brain. Goodman certainly obliges with a very readable account of his life, from East End boy to television star, and it’s a lot better than I expected. And while Goodman’s easy-going recollections and honesty are the main reasons for this, it would be churlish not to also credit ghost writer Richard Havers, who does a fine job.

Living and working near to a lot of the areas where Goodman grew up, the likes of Dartford, Welling and Blackfen, I found his early life the most interesting part of his autobiography. It’s not without humour, and there are some poignant stories which effectively convey a time and place. Goodman knows how to tell a self-deprecating tale, doesn’t hide from the poor decisions in his life or admitting the regrets he has, and comes across as a pretty decent bloke, much as he does on telly.

Unfortunately, the more the book focuses on dancing, the more I found myself switching off. Of course, you can hardly tell the story of Goodman’s life without examining the role dancing has had, but while the early days - his introduction to ballroom and Latin American and early competition success - ignite interest in the reader, the later focus on endless competitions provoked ennui.

Finally, we come to Strictly, and here Goodman wastes the rapport he has established with the reader. A couple of looks at the darker side of the BBC show apart – a moan about one of the professional dancers and a regret regarding some comments to Kelly Brook – Goodman’s previous frankness evaporates. You get the feeling he’s holding back, and even though that might not be a surprise as he continues to star on the primetime show, it still disappoints.

So, rating time:

#78 Better Late Than Never, by Len Goodman (Ebury Press) - 7/10

Next up: Outliers, by Malcolm Gladwell (Penguin Group)

Click here for the full list of books so far, and their rating

#77 The Quiet American, by Graham Greene (Vintage)

Well, here’s a turn-up for the books (challenge). I was really looking forward to reading another Graham Greene, and The Quiet American is acknowledged as one of his classics, but I really didn’t enjoy it very much at all.

My main problem was that I struggled to follow the story. It’s not that I didn’t understand it (or at least I don’t think so!), but rather it never became readable enough for me to want to fully comprehend the metaphors and the allegories.

At the heart of the tale, set in 1950s Indochina, is a love triangle between a native woman, who wants merely to ensure a future for herself, an ambiguous if jaded English reporter and an American officer who turns out to be more than he appears. It’s a hugely political book, with the trio each representing their nations and wider political beliefs, with the Vietnamese Phuong torn between her two suitors, with tension ever increasing on journalist Fowler, one of nature’s observers, to take sides.

As the evidence mounts of American Pyle’s duplicity and treacherous intentions, despite his honourable behaviour towards Phuong, Fowler realises he has to take action. And so the book, which begins with Pyle’s death, concludes as it was destined. But the route there was so slow and meandering that I only started to care when a particularly horrible explosion takes place late in the piece.

I can see how The Quiet American, with its relevance to the Vietnam war, can be admired, and perhaps even reviled by some due to its anti-American stance, but either way, it never captured my full attention.

So, rating time:

#77 The Quiet American, by Graham Greene (Vintage) - 5/10

Next up: The Grapes of Wrath, by John Steinbeck (Penguin Group)

Click here for the full list of books so far, and their rating

#76 The Observations, by Jane Harris (Faber and Faber Limited)

It’s hardly Paul Auster, but making observations about The Observations seems a bit surreal. Thankfully, the latter is a book about a newly commissioned young maid and her life and it’s quite a ribald entertaining affair.

The maid, Bessy Buckley, is as forthright as they come despite her tender years, and even though many phrases she uses are corruptions, nicknames or simply made up, there is no mistaking what she means – hence a disliked reverend is called Reverend Bollix.

For a book containing such dark subjects, from child prostitution to instable mental health to alcoholism, it’s strange that it retains such a playful air, however, and laughter – both Bessy’s and the reader’s – is never far away.

That said, for quite a lengthy book, stretching to upwards of 500 pages, I don’t believe I was engrossed at any stage. Interested, but never desperate to find out what was going to happen next.

So, rating time:

#76 The Observations, by Jane Harris (Faber and Faber Limited) - 6/10

Next up: The Quiet American, by Graham Greene (Vintage)

Click here for the full list of books so far, and their rating

#75 Leviathan, by Paul Auster (Faber and Faber Limited)

It cost me about £13 more than it should have done, but I suppose Paul Auster’s latest, Leviathan, was worth it!

My monetary issues came courtesy of a library fine. Unfortunately, I took out Leviathan around three months ago, but immediately ‘lost’ it. I renewed it online four times – the wonders of the modern library system, about which I promise I will write at some point this year – but then my computer broke, I was busy at work, I forgot about it and [feel free to add any of your own excuses here].

Thankfully, it turned up, not least because it meant I could pay my fines (my other books were overdue by this stage as well) - but not before I actually managed to read the book!

I was hooked from the start, Thankfully, Wikipedia provides the opening lines:

“Six days ago, a man blew himself up by the side of a road in northern Wisconsin. There were no witnesses, but it appears that he was sitting on the grass next to his parked car when the bomb he was building accidentally went off. According to the forensic reports that have just been published, the man was killed instantly. His body burst into dozens of small pieces, and fragments of his corpse were found as far as 50 feet away from the site of the explosion.”

The subsequent tale, then, is of how events came to pass, pieced together by a struggling author who also relates how he is in a position to tell the story of his best friend. But while things start as a typical ‘thriller’, it’s not long before Auster is subverting the genre to introduce his typical existentialist ideas.

The usual themes are present; isolationism, the interconnectedness of things and the changing nature of identity, but this is combined with a story which compels you to keep turning the pages.

If I was being hyper critical, there were one or two coincidences, which Dickens-like become important plot devices which I could have done without, but there’s no denying that Auster consistently provides entertaining, yet intelligent and thoughtful, fare.

So, rating time:

#75 Leviathan, by Paul Auster (Faber and Faber Limited) - 8/10

Next up: The Observations, by Jane Harris (Faber and Faber Limited)

Click here for the full list of books so far, and their rating

#74 Pied Piper, By Nevil Shute (Vintage)

Given Nevil Shute is my new favourite author as a result of this book challenge, I had high hopes of Pied Piper. That my perhaps unrealistic expectations were not quite realised was a shame, but that’s not to say that I didn’t enjoy it.

It’s another ‘love story’ set during the war, and as seems usual in Shute’s stories, the love is a little more complicated than you might expect; not so much between man and woman as between elderly man and the children he is trying to escort to safety, not to mention the love the women who accompanies him has for his late son.

In contrast to Requiem For a Wren and A Town Like Alice, I never felt fully engaged with the main character, whose idyllic fishing trip in France quickly turns into a battle for survival after the Germans invade and he tries to flee back to England, taking numerous children under his protection en route.

As usual, Shute’s main characters are imbued with hope and good intentions in the face of life-threatening circumstances, so the reader is really ‘living’ their experiences and wants them to survive, to achieve their goals. But it remains believable, so setbacks - even deaths - are common, and are made all the more effective and affecting.

The other thing I like about Shute is his ability to tell a simple tale simply. The occasional flashback aside, there are very few gimmicky tricks and cleverness, and the sparse language he uses concentrates your attention on the story.

Unfortunately, I didn’t find Pied Piper’s story quite as moving and powerful as his afore-mentioned novels - but they were truly excellent, so it’s really picking holes in another fine book.

So, rating time:

#74 Pied Piper, By Nevil Shute (Vintage) - 8/10

Next up: Leviathan, by Paul Auster (Faber and Faber Limited)

Click here for the full list of books so far, and their rating

#73 The Highest Tide, by Jim Lynch (Bloomsbury Publishing)

[Puts on American film trailor voiceover deep voice] "In a world where the tide is rising, one boy has the power to alert his fellow man to the dangers to the planet..."

But this isn’t a film (although the adaptation cannot be too far away), and while The Highest Tide is a fairly charming tale of a small boy alive to the problems caused by the changing environmental nature of the world, with a particular focus on marine life, it doesn’t quite hit home.

There is a lot to like. The 13-year-old main character Miles is very believable, as knowledgeable about the sea as he is unworldly wise in all other matters, and such is the influence of the sea and its teeming life, it becomes a character in the book on its own merit.

The media circus which descends on his home after he makes a series of incredible discoveries, and how he deals with the reporters and the attention, is nicely observed, and his relationships with his friends, the aquarium owners to whom he sells his discoveries and his confused former babysitter, with whom he is infatuated, provide plenty of chuckles. But the novel takes a wrong step when a cult, and therefore religion, is introduced after he starts to make prophesies - aided by a ‘psychic’ friend – which start to come true.

It was a diversion that I could have done without, but that minor negative plus a downbeat ending meant I finished the book less enthusiastic about it than I was halfway through.

So, rating time:

#73 The Highest Tide, by Jim Lynch (Bloomsbury Publishing)- 7/10

Next up: Pied Piper, By Nevil Shute (Vintage)

Click here for the full list of books so far, and their rating

#72 Money, by Martin Amis (Vintage)

He’s often called the finest English writer of his generation, and Money is supposed one of his best works, so I was looking forward to reading my first Martin Amis book.

That said, I wasn’t coming into it without any preconceptions. You can’t read a newspaper – particularly the literary sections – without your eyes alighting on yet more accusations that Amis is ‘misogynistic’, so I was interested to see whether his words lived up to the hype. Of course, I was also interested to know whether he was any good...

I came away largely disappointed, in both respects. There’s no denying Amis is a fine writer, but I can’t say I enjoyed Money, a tale of excess in all pursuits, from financial matters to fast food and sex. The narrator and anti-heroic main character is so unsympathetic that you really don’t care what happens to him, even as he tries to extricate himself from various messes which are not entirely of his doing.

Then there is Martin Amis himself, a character in his own book, and a writer at that. I’ve really got little patience with writers who indulge in this kind of post-modern self-awareness (the main character is even called John Self, by the way). At its best, it’s tacky and pointless. At its worst, it’s cleverness for cleverness’ sake.

While his prose frequently soars, and there is much to admire in the descriptive assault he makes on readers, there is also a lot of ‘look at me, isn’t my writing clever’ in Money. But while some have criticised the unimaginative plot, I have to say that was the only thing which kept me turning the pages. Loathsome as I found Self, who knows the worth of everything but the value of nothing, I wanted to know the resolution.

On to the accusations of misogyny. Of course, it’s Self who is misogynistic – women are treated abysmally throughout (it’s noticeable that the one ‘happy’ relationship he discovers is instantly screwed up through his weakness) – rather than Amis, but it’s to such an extent, far beyond normal boundaries, that you can see how such questions are asked. And that’s just after reading one book.

This is the second book in a row during my challenge, after The New Confessions, to feature the making of a film which is destined never to be made, or at least in the way its director intended. And I wonder whether it’s a metaphor for this challenge, because I’m falling dangerously behind...

So, rating time:

#72 Money, by Martin Amis (Vintage)- 7/10

Next up: The Highest Tide, by Jim Lynch (Bloomsbury Publishing)

Click here for the full list of books so far, and their rating

#71 The New Confessions, by William Boyd (Penguin Group)

I’ve come to know many characters this year, but none as vivid or as comprehensive as John James Todd, the ‘star’ of William Boyd’s The New Confessions. I say comprehensive because Boyd leaves nothing out in his depiction of a man who finds and loses fame with the same regularity as his friendships.

The scope of the book is extraordinary, ranging from the end of the 19th century through Edinburgh, the First World War, Hollywood and McCarthyism, with Todd all the while making decisions in an effort to prolong his fame and ensure he still ‘matters’ which gradually alienate him from his friends, family, colleagues and ultimately the world.

Todd isn’t a character with which you sympathise, mainly because there is no attempt to shield the reader from the nastier sides of his character. Indeed, he reveals most of it himself. But because he is the heartbeat of the novel, the reader becomes as bound in his adventures as he is himself. You revile him as much as you admire his pursuit of what he deems to be important at whatever stage of his life he has reached, and Boyd’s eye for historical detail brings his world alive, especially the post-war film world of Berlin.
All in all, it’s a real tour de force. My only issue was with its length and its relentlessness. It’s far from an ‘easy read’ and as much as the attention to detail and the setting of events in a historical context magnifies the emotions of the tale, rather than let the reader follow what appears to be a natural course, Boyd ties you to Todd and the narrative to such an extent that you start to resent him, and a story which steadfastly refuses to end.

So, rating time:

#71 The New Confessions, by William Boyd (Penguin Group) - 8/10

Next up: Money, by Martin Amis (Vintage)

Click here for the full list of books so far, and their rating

#70 Crossfire, by Dick Francis & Felix Francis (Penguin Group)

Readers may recall that in the dim and distant past – OK, February – I commented on the death of Dick Francis, whose horse-racing books I greatly enjoyed as I was growing up. Unfortunately, as he got older, and following the death of his wife, who reportedly contributed a great deal to his novels, the quality of his books diminished, so it was with some trepidation I approached his final work, Crossfire.

Thankfully, there was little reason to be fearful. It’s far from a Francis classic, but it’s certainly not all bad, and there is enough to keep most readers entertained, even if much of it is incredibly far-fetched.

As is customary in Francis’ books, we’ve got a character with a ‘special’ background, and, sadly, in this day and age, it’s unsurprising to find he is a soldier. And a seriously injured soldier at that. The book is dedicated to ‘grandson and son Williams Francis’, a Lieutenant in the Army Air Corps, so it’s clear the authors didn’t have to travel far to do their research.

The soldier in question returns to his mother’s prestigious stables to discover that she’s being blackmailed, and pretty soon he’s up to eyes in various schemes, plots, tax fiddles and, of course, a beautiful women.

Fans of Francis will see a lot of private detective Sid Halley, one of Francis’ best characters, in Crossfire’s Tom Forsyth. For Halley’s amputated hand, Forsyth is missing a foot, and both endure plenty of pain, are threatened and imprisoned, and show no hesitation in resorting to violence en route to resolving their personal conflict.

Unfortunately, the plot is more nag than thoroughbred, but it retains enough interest to keep you turning the pages, and it’s by no means a bad way for the Francis legacy to bow out.

So, rating time:

#70 Crossfire, by Dick Francis & Felix Francis (Penguin Group) - 6/10

Next up: The New Confessions, by William Boyd (Penguin Group)

Click here for the full list of books so far, and their rating

#69 Sex, Bowls & Rock & Roll, by Alex Marsh (The Friday Project)

Has it really been a month since I last blogged? No matter. While my writing may have stalled slightly, my reading has continued apace, so prepare yourselves for some regular updates this week as I play catch up – on this challenge, on my nemesis and perhaps even on life itself.

We’ll start with a piece of harmless flim-flam. Sex, Bowls & Rock & Roll: How I Swapped My Rock Dreams For Village Greens is, I realised after I had finished reading it, one of those books which has stemmed from a blog (privatesecretdiary.com, apparently).

Unfortunately, in my experience, this is rarely a good thing – although I’m willing to change my mind if I get the right offer. Publishers, you know where to find me!

The blurb on the reverse instructs readers: “You’ll piss yourself laughing, and if you don’t believe us, turn to page 16.” Unfortunately, I neglected to do this before taking the book out of the library. Had I done so, I might have saved myself a medium amount of bother.

To set the scene, there is this bloke who fancies himself as a musician, who moves to Norfolk, where he finds there are very few musicians with which to form a band. So he takes up bowls. With little success. And so Sex, Bowls & Rock & Roll is a knockabout tale about his bowls matches, his general countryside mishaps and everyday life in a small village.

Much as I couldn’t summon much enthusiasm for the book when I was reading it, so I can’t summon much energy to criticise it following its completion. There was the odd humorous line, but it was nowhere near as funny or poignant as it should have been and perhaps took itself to be.

Page 16, by the way, features the author at the dentist. With a knob gag. It’s hardly Voltaire.

So, rating time:

#69 Sex, Bowls & Rock & Roll, by Alex Marsh (The Friday Project) - 6/10

Next up: Crossfire, by Dick Francis & Felix Francis (Penguin Group)

Click here for the full list of books so far, and their rating

The beautiful St Bride's

I’ve said it before, and I’ve no qualms about saying it again: since I’ve started this challenge, all kinds of literary coincidences have attracted my attention.

Take Saturday, when I attended the lovely wedding of the even lovelier Liz and Rufus. I’d never heard of St Bride’s Church, but its location on Fleet Street suggested links to the publishing industry and I wasn’t disappointed. Indeed, it was true delight.

‘The cathedral of Fleet Street’ or ‘church of the press’, as it’s known, was impressive to say the least. Designed by Sir Christopher Wren, the fine steeple became the model for traditional wedding cakes, which was first made by a baker on the nearby Ludgate Hill and was no doubt popularised by the numerous newspapers, magazines and other publications located all around.

According to the informative order of service, the church’s association with printing and publishing dates back to 1500 when Wynken De Worde, an apprentice of William Caxton (reportedly the first man to introduce the printing press to England), brought his press to the parish. He was eventually buried in St Bride’s.

Since then, the likes of John Dryden, John Milton, John Evelyn, Samuel Pepys, Dr Johnson and Charles Dickens have congregated here, and although their days have long gone - as have the newspapers, who have gradually moved away – the historical links with the press remain: it was fascinating to see some of the seats are engraved with the names of assorted individuals and companies associated with printing, from giants such as Lord Beaverbrook to OK! magazine.

The reception was held a short walk away at Stationers Hall, the home of the original Guild of Stationers (booksellers who copied and sold manuscript books and writing materials and limners who decorated and illustrated them). This became The Stationers' Company, which is closely connected with the communication industries that have derived from the original trades of the guild such as printing, packaging, advertising, design, photography, film and video production and print and digital publishing.

All that, and a bloody brilliant wedding, too. A pretty perfect day all on fronts.

#68 The Drought, by JG Ballard (Harper Perennial)

If it’s a dystopian future you’re seeking, look no further than JG Ballard, whose bleak prognoses ensured ‘Ballardian’ would enter the English language. But it would be wrong to consider all of his works wholly depressing.

Novels such as The Drought, which tell of a worldwide shortage of water caused by man’s production of industrial waste, foretell bleakness on an apocalyptic scale. The humans left in this world face incredible hardships and impossible decisions, but despite the horrors, it’s also a tale of survival and adaptation.

I was immediately hooked by The Drought, although I grew more unsure the more I read. The characters were hard to like, I struggled a little with the structure and I was caught by surprise by the leap forward in time after their opening struggle to reach the coast. A dreamlike quality is created for the reader, who stumbles along in the characters’ wake enduring problem after problem and disappointment after setback, and this is curiously disengaging.

That said, Ballard’s use of language and imagery, even symbology, is remarkable. He paints a picture better than most authors – and it’s a beautiful picture regardless of the horrors being portrayed. This is regardless of the fact I regularly needed a dictionary close at hand to get to grips with Ballard’s chosen words.

The Drought therefore becomes a book I admired rather than enjoyed. The sudden violence and psychological trauma provoked an unsettling response. The struggle of the wildly disparate, although surprisingly few, characters to retain their identity is fought as much as they battle for survival - and I felt as though I was struggling alongside them.

It’s not the sort of book you would select for a gentle Sunday evening in front of the Antiques Roadshow, then, but if this challenge is about furthering my literary knowledge as much as finding new authors I like, then books such as The Drought and authors such as JG Ballard are essential reading.

So, rating time:

#68 The Drought, by JG Ballard (Harper Perennial) - 7/10

Next up: The New Confessions, by William Boyd (Penguin Group)

Click here for the full list of books so far, and their rating

A light is Shone on the blog

Behind, as I am, with my reading, I’ve been trying not to spend too much time on these reviews. Where possible, I’ve recently been declining the opportunity to research authors further or find out more about the subject or the themes of the book I’ve just completed so I have more opportunity to wade through the mounting pile of pages which lurk in the corner of my lounge, catching my eye as regularly as an attractive girl in a bar.

But when the author of the book you have just reviewed gets in touch to pay you a compliment and suggest some further reading, it’s hard to say no...

I wrote the other day about how much I enjoyed the links between alcoholism and authors explored within In the Rooms, by Tom Shone. And Tom himself has pointed me in the direction of a more obvious study – an article he wrote for Intelligent Life.

Apparently, ‘Of America’s seven Nobel laureates, five were lushes’ and there is an equally long list in these shores, referencing the likes of Dylan Thomas, Malcolm Lowry, Brendan Behan, Patrick Hamilton, Philip Larkin, and Kingsley Amis.

It’s absorbing stuff and, by proxy, it’s also a real insight into the production of In the Rooms. This article was clearly made possible from the research Shone conducted before writing In the Rooms and it’s interesting to see details which made it into the book (perhaps most obviously when alcoholic writer Douglas Kelsey refers to newly sober Raymond Carver regularly inviting him to play bingo) and the huge amount which merely contributed to the feel of his novel.

Tom’s own blog Taking Barack to the Movies (covering ‘politics, pop, books, movies’) is equally interesting – although it has cost me precious hours in my quest to complete this 100-book challenge...

More positively, Tom’s kind comments at last bring to an end an area of this challenge where the Friend of the Wench, was one up on me, my rival having previously been honoured with the author of a reviewed book getting in touch with him.

Solely in the interests of competition, therefore, and completely self-indulgently, I feel I should point out that Shone is a former deputy literary editor of the Sunday Times. He presumably knows a bit about half-decent writing, then, and he ‘loves’ my blog. Have that Friend of the Wench!

#67 Wodehouse at the Wicket, edited by Murray Hedgecock (Hutchinson)

I like PG Wodehouse. I like cricket. So Wodehouse at the Wicket, a study into the impact the sport had on the great British novelist, and his writing, plus a selection of articles, was pretty much right up my street. Or aiming right at my stumps, if you prefer a bit of cricketing parlance.

As a newish Wodehouse convert, I must admit that I wasn’t aware that cricket featured so heavily in his work, but thinking back to Psmith Journalist, main character Psmith was only in New York to accompany a friend of his on a cricket tour.

Among the revelations which stood out was that famous butler Jeeves was named after Warwickshire cricketer Percy Jeeves, who was renowned for his gentlemanly ways. The short cricket-based articles with which Wodehouse was able to start his writing career were entertaining, too.

Overall, the Murray Hedgecock-edited tome is mildly diverting rather than enthralling, however. It’s well researched, and there are some great insights, particularly into Wodehouse the schoolboy cricketer, but it’s a little too insubstantial, although not insignificant, to really impress.

So, rating time:

#67 Wodehouse at the Wicket, edited by Murray Hedgecock (Hutchinson) - 6/10

Next up: The Drought, by JG Ballard (Harper Perennial)

Click here for the full list of books so far, and their rating

#66 In the Rooms, by Tom Shone (Windmill Books)

This might not be the most celebrated or well-known novel I’ve read this year (it was an impulse pick-up at the library), but it was certainly among the most enjoyable, for a number of reasons.

A lot of In the Rooms (a phrase used to describe help meetings of alcoholics or drug users) dovetails nicely with this challenge – not that I’m an alcoholic or anything. Its main character is a literary agent, Patrick Miller, who has moved to New York and comes across a legendary reclusive author and finds the only way he can approach him is at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. So he has to pretend he’s an alcoholic.

I deliberately didn’t add the phrase ‘with hilarious consequences’ to the end of that last sentence, but there are some very funny moments, mostly involving the characters he encounters at the meetings, as Miller finds himself slipping further and further into his deception and is unable to extricate himself from the lies he has told.

It’s a merry little tale. But where it chimes with this blog is in the book’s underlying close look at the relationship between authors and alcohol, and whether the likes of Raymond Carver, Elmore Leonard and Charles Bukowski wrote better drunk or sober.

Add in some insight into the workings of publishers, writers and literary agents, and guest appearances by the likes of Bret Easton Ellis and Jay McInerney, and it has the feel of real ‘writers’ book. I really enjoyed it.

So, rating time:

#66 In the Rooms, by Tom Shone (Windmill Books) - 8/10

Next up: Wodehouse at the Wicket, edited by Murray Hedgecock (Hutchinson)

Click here for the full list of books so far, and their rating

#65 Adventures on the High Teas, by Stuart Maconie (Ebury Press)

The ‘in search of…’ whimsical travel book has become increasingly popular in recent years, as best evidenced by the likes of Bill Bryson and 100 Books in a Year favourite Charlie Connelly, and the genre travels all the way to Tony Hawks and his trotting around countries trying to fulfil bizarre bets.

Adventures on the High Teas: In Search of Middle England is another one of these, then, with author, broadcaster and comedian Stuart Maconie setting out to discover what exactly makes Middle England what it is. And what that phrase means exactly. Because different people have different views, ranging from the perception and connotations linked to the Daily Mail to the world of Brief Encounter and Mike Oldfield.

There’s a lot to like about High Teas. Maconie makes for an amusing raconteur and the places he visits, such as Knutsford, Tunbridge Wells and Meriden – the exact centre of the country (ish) - are well selected. There’s some fine historical information and lots of anecdotes and encounters en route.

Perhaps it was a too long, however. I was growing a bit weary by the end and could have done with 50 or so fewer pages or more humour to sustain me the more pages I turned. I enjoyed it, but it didn’t set my heart racing.

So, rating time:

#65 Adventures on the High Teas, by Stuart Maconie (Ebury Press) - 6/10

Next up: In the Rooms, by Tom Shone (Windmill Books)

Click here for the full list of books so far, and their rating