Tag Archives: book

The Romantic

William Boyd is one of my favourite authors. He specialises in doorstop novels that document the entire life of an interesting individual. His most famous is probably “Any Human Heart” and “The Romantic” [affiliate link] follows in its footsteps.

The story crosses the globe, starting in Ireland, moving to England, Belgium, the US, Africa, India, Sri Lanka, Italy, Austrian and others I’m probably forgetting. And it begins in 1899, so covers an interesting time in history. (I did some quick Wikipedia fact checking and it stands up!)

What makes these books work is that his characters feel real. They’re flawed. Heros sometimes, but with relatable failings that anchor them in reality.

It’s not Boyd’s best, but it’s thoroughly enjoyable and beautifully written.

Depraved New World

It’s difficult to come up with a better explanation for what this book is like than the description on the back: Depraved New World (affiliate link) is a worryingly funny collection, which captures British politics at its most absurd. 

It’s a collection of John Crace’s political sketches, originally published in the Guardian, covering October 2021 to June 2023. A pretty eventful time in British politics.

Reading it now, in late 2023, is probably the perfect time. Much earlier and you can’t tell the “good” sketches or consequential events from the average ones. Much later and you’ll have forgotten some of the important details that are being written about. They’re sketches, not analysis of the events or a history. Between the chapters are occasional colour about what was going on, but, broadly, you’re on your own. Political geeks only! Some parts I’d forgotten, but smiled when I recalled. If you’d come across Braverman stepping on a guide dog’s tail on The Thick of It, you’d dismiss it as too unlikely and contrived.

If there’s a trend for the books I’ve read this year, it’s “entertaining but not a classic.” I would put “Depraved New World” in the same category.

Wilt on High

“Wilt on High” is another one of those books that I read because a number of people said “if you like Douglas Adams, you’ll enjoy Tom Sharpe.” This book was picked arbitrarily by virtue of being available in a second hand bookstore for 50p.

Since it’s the third book in the series staring Wilt and I’ve not read any of the others, there were some references to the backstory that I missed. I don’t think those details were absolutely critical.

Written in the early eighties, there are aspects that have not dated well. There are references that younger readers will miss or not understand. My understanding of some parts was tenuous. And the occasional description, well, let’s just say you might phrase it differently now.

But it mostly stands up. The petty politics and personalities are still relevant and the writing is good. The dialogue, the bickering and characters are all well conceived. The story is a farce, with different threads coming together towards the end. The humour wouldn’t work if the characters motivations and state of mind were not clear. It’s one of those things that looks easier to do than it is, and it appeared effortless here, which I mean as a big complement.

Having said all that, it’s not terribly like Douglas Adams. While humorous, it’s not as clever as Adams and the writing, while good, is not at the same level. The comparison peters out after “funny” and “well written.” Adams’ obsession with digital watches dates his work a little, but Wilt being so firmly set in early eighties Britain does limit its modern appeal.

How Not To Be Wrong

“How not to be wrong: The art of changing your mind” is a follow-up to James O’Brien’s earlier book, “How to be right.” The idea this time is that he walks through a number of areas where he has been wrong in the past and has changed his mind.

It’s such a simple concept, but, as a society, we have difficulty doing exactly that. Politicians are criticised for doing the wrong thing and then again for doing a u-turn. Tribal loyalty means that people won’t change their minds if that would mean agreeing with “the enemy.” I’m not putting myself above this1, sadly, and neither does O’Brien.

He explores a wide range of subjects, from corporal punishment in schools, to stop and search, tattoos, fat-shaming and trans rights. For some subjects, he admits he was wrong, others we discover that it’s all a bit more complicated than that, and that, perhaps, anyone with absolute certainty is missing something. We’d be better off as a society if people were willing to say “I don’t know” more often.

The debates are a mixture of personal anecdotes and transcripts from guests on his radio show. It’s simply structured and competently written. His earnest, chummy, man-of-the-people vibe, also present in his earlier book, grated on me more this time for some reason. Overall I’d say that I like the idea of the book more than the execution.

Like his previous effort, it’s not a bad book but nor is it an essential read.


  1. “Fortunately,” the current government isn’t giving me much opportunity to reluctantly agree with them. ↩︎

Jeremy Hardy Speaks Volumes

I have a problem with this book. Now that I come to write some notes on it, I find that there is so much that I want to quote that I may as well copy and paste the whole text.

I’m not going to, but here are a few.

I hate competitiveness, because I know I’m better than that.

And.

People say I’m self-deprecating, but I don’t think I’m very good at that.

While his one-liners are great, his rants are really his trademark. The book includes plenty of those.

The book is structured into categories, from Childhood and Settling Down to Identity Politics and Getting Older. Each subject dips into material from his entire career, placing some mid-eighties standup next to a 2017 rant on the News Quiz. I was initially annoyed that it wasn’t chronological, but as I continued to read it, I found that it worked well. Hardy hit the standup circuit fully formed, and his early routines were as sharp and well-written as his later material.

You think Van Morrison is poor people’s Ocado.

His material is a fascinating combination of cleverness, principles and silliness, and you could never tell which direction the next sentence would go. He’d start talking about family life and twist it into a surreal play on words.

I hate the gym so much. The only thing I like is the resistance training. We blew up a bridge yesterday.

I also enjoyed the pieces by friends. They captured aspects of his personality incredibly well. Like Andy Hamilton noting his playfulness: “The extraordinary mix of purpose, precision and imagination enabled him to develop arguments with total conviction, and yet be joyfully funny.” Or Sandi Toksvig remembering that Hardy heckled her wedding.

It was all a bit too much Boris. Because he’s a character in the sense it would be better if he were fictional.

I don’t remember when I first discovered Hardy, but I’ve been a fan of his work for a long time. I bought the audiobook of a bunch of his “Speaks the Nation” radio show. I was always pleased when he was a guest on the News Quiz, or Sorry I Haven’t A Clue. I never met him, I’m not even 100% sure I ever saw him at one of the many radio recordings I went to, but his passing hit me surprisingly hard.

I don’t get to say this often, but this book genuinely had me laughing out loud. Highly recommended.

Programming Pearls

Every year I try to complete the Advent of Code. Every year I fail to finish. I get about halfway through, and the exercises start taking longer to complete than I have time.

Every year I think about Jon Bentley’s Programming Pearls1, because the same kinds of challenges you find in Advent of Code can be found in the book. The main difference being the quality of the answers. At least in my case2. In the words of the preface: “Programming pearls whose origins lie beyond solid engineering, in the realm of insight and creativity.”

The format of the book involves presenting a programming problem and then iterating on the solution while discussing the trade-offs involved at each step. It’s quite an old book by computing standards – the second edition was published in 1999 – and you may be put off by the use of C to illustrate the solutions. I would urge you to continue anyway, even if you are not an expert in C. You may also find some of the solutions to be hard work. Honestly, that’s part of the fun. If you don’t like having your brain turned inside out, this isn’t the book for you!

As you work your way through the chapters, you realise that the key for most of them is not esoteric optimisations or low-level hacking made possible by the C programming language. Instead, it’s data structures. If you somehow manage to store your data in the “correct” way, the algorithm to process it becomes simpler, clearer and faster. It’s almost miraculous.

Of course, there’s a lively debate about “computer science” and whether it should be the subject of developer interviews. What I would say is that the kinds of people who like to attempt Advent of Code are very likely the kind of people who will also enjoy Programming Pearls.


  1. Not to be confused with Programming Perl. ↩︎
  2. In my defence, I usually use Advent of Code to learn (or brush up on) a new programming language rather than solve the puzzle in the best way. That’s my excuse, and I’m sticking to it. ↩︎