Jessica Bruder, Nomadland

 A rather frightening image of the future - it tracks older people in the US that have fallen out of the system and lost the security of home and savings, and are unable to find work that pays enough to keep a roof over their head, so travel the country in RVs for low-paid seasonal work in warehouses, festivals, farms, etc. It did end on an optimistic note as one of the nomads managed to buy land to build her dream 'earthship' , but this could well ne the way of things in the future for many - work is increasingly devalued and with no social security what option will people have other than a workhouse. At a time when employee rights are being reduced again in the UK it's all very depressing and accelerating the gap between the wealthy few and the struggling many. Are we heading for the Hunger Games? With the Ukraine and the cost of living crisis it's been a horrible year. I'm so lucky, but feel for the first time that I'm in the precariat, and we could lose it all. We +should+ pay off the mortgage next month, which should give us some security, but I worry if one or both of us lose our jobs and what opportunities our children will have. doesn't look good.

Ian Birchall, The Spectre of Babeuf, Raphaela Edelbauer, The Liquid Land, Geert Mak, In America: Travels with John Steinbeck

 My Christmas reading. I've been meaning to read more about Babeuf for decades, as I have a memory of him being one the revolutionary that appealed most to me, a proto-socialist concerned with equality and common ownership rather than the bourgeois concerns of most of the progenitors of the French Revolution. There's not much on him in english it would appear, and I'm not sure I know much more after reading this, which was far to heavy on the marxist theorising for me. ' The Liquid Land' was very good, set in a forgotten village in Austria ruled by an eccentric Countess and built on top of a giant hole which isn't really discussed. it's an allegory of the holocaust  being swept under the carpet with the hole as the elephant in the room which is ignored while everything is swept into it.  What brought me to it was the idea of an Tyrolean equivalent of Rotherweird or Lud-In-the Mist, and I got that - slightly less faerie and a lot more sachertorte, but still. 'In America' is another book made for me, and I've put more by Geert Mak on my wishlist already (I'm sure I have read a book by him on Amsterdam though). A european intellectual follows Steinbeck round America, partly to check in the veracity of Steinbeck's reportage (conclusion - it was largely invention and fiction, which is fine, this is Steinbeck) and partly to chronicle the changes since 1960, which he does brilliantly. Of course, I now want to undergo exactly the same roadtrip, ideally with a dog and in an RV. one day. . . 

C.S. Lewis, The Magician's Nephew

 I've been meaning to reread this for a while, since reading Susanna Clarke's wonderful Piranesi, which was inspired in part by The Magician's Nephew. I don't have very fond memories of reading CS Lewis, finding him a bit preachy and christian, particularly The Last Battle, which horrified me by keeping people out of heaven for minor infractions (if I remember correctly). I don't think I've reread the books since primary school, and I wonder how much i red at the time. The first part of the book is very familiar - the attic they explore, the rings and the ponds and the old, old sun in a dead city. I don't really remember the witch gallivanting through London and the creation myth of Narnia (more christian proselytizing). It's much more light-hearted and funny than I remember though, and it is a cracking adventure. Perhaps I should read more to correct my prejudice

Christopher de Bellague, The Lion House: The Coming of a King

 That was joyous romp. The author obviously had the time of his life writing it, and given the source material it was much more exiting and imaginative than an ordinary history of warfare and diplomacy between the Ottomans and the west. I struggled to follow some of the characters as they made their way through shifting alliances, backstabbings and changes in fortune, but i don't think that mattered too much. here at home we have had a very light dusting of snow so it's all looking very christmassy. I've just caught the cold that Helen and Libby have had for a few days, so am feeling a little sorry for myself. Probably i should not be working, but I've dosed myself up on Lemsip and am reluctant to call in sick as I've only had 2 days off in 25 years.

Charles Bukowski, Ham on Rye

 I remember first reading about Bukowski in an interview with the Dogs d'amour, an obscure '80s rock band that I quite liked in school. They had a song called The Ballad of Jack about the trouble getting a decent cup of tea in America, very rock n roll. they listed Bukowski as one of their heroes alongside Errol Flynn and others. I really enjoyed Post Office a few years ago, and it accurately captures the mind-numbing nature of work and how it is something to be endured and avoided. Ham on Rye was more of an autobiography though, and went right back to his childhood and read more like a misery memoir than a wry observation about modern working culture

John Alexander Williams, Appalachia: A History

 'Not quite what I was expecting, but it was a rigorous and wide-ranging history of the region. So much I was ignorant of, even how to pronounce 'Appalachia'. I've never even thought about it, it's always been 'Apple ay sha' to me,  but with a tiny bit of thought and awareness I would have picked up that it's much more varied and for many people the accepted pronunciation is 'apple atch uh'.  I'm still intrigued and fascinated by the strange combination of old folkways and music, the poverty, the mountain landscape and fierce independence of the folk. Today marks 25 years since I joined what was then Cable & Wireless. I've been very lucky to do a job I have generally enjoyed and been well remunerated for it. Right now my worry is trying to hang on to that privilege for a few more years so we can live in a comfortable retirement. Feel like I'm living on borrowed time at the moment in the current economic climate

Joseph Roth, The Emperor's Tomb

Started very promisingly with a foreword by the translator Michael Hoffman that wasn't at all hagiographic, and all the better for it as it came across as a fair and open assessment of Roth and his faults as a writer and as a person by a translator who has spent his life immersed in Roth's works. Roth sounds incredibly frustrating, an unreliable, difficult man who made life a misery for his publishers and even submitted chapters from previous books when he had a deadline to meet. I like the sound of him very much, but it seems as if he was only writing because he absolutely had to in order to pay the bills and he'd much rather be somewhere else. If course the somewhere else was an imaginary, idealised Habsburg mitteleuropa full of order, ceremony, cafes and people who knew their place. I'm now moving on to a book about Appalachia, and it got me thinking about what links those two areas that interest me so much - Central Europe under the Habsburgs and the backwoods country of the Eastern US. i wonder f it is because they are both backwaters, attached to but forgotten by the great flows of history, where old, archaic habits linger on and perhaps point to a different way of life. Where else fits that bill? Frinton-on-Sea I suppose, but I have no desire to ever go there. 

Richard Bassett, Last Days in Old Europe

 This book could have been written for me. Bassett is a Paddy Leigh Fermor type, incredibly posh, incredibly intelligent with oodles of self-confidence and an incredible contact network that opens doors all over Europe that would remain firmly closed to mortals. He starts as a Horn player in Ljubljana and somehow becomes The Times' correspondent for Central Europe. What is most interesting is how much the Europe he inhabits in the '80s is still so Habsburg. the architecture, the uniforms, the culture. Perhaps he is looking for it, but he seems to find it everywhere, and spends a great deal of time in the company of those last remaining aristos that were awarded medals by Franz Josef or wore the uniform of an Uhlan.

This book was purchased on my annual day of indulgence while the car is being serviced and MOT'd. I took the train from Walton into town, and spent the whole day browsing bookshops for things I could have bought online in a few seconds and much cheaper. I planned to limit myself to one book per shop, but nah. Daunt Books, Hatchard's, Waterstone's Piccadilly (Simpsons as was), Foyle's and finally Stanford's. Stanford's new shop is much smaller and not nearly as nice, so it may drop off my list. The others remain as lovely as ever, and with any more time I would have gone on to Dillon's and the LRB Bookshop.

Also managed my first fanboy visit to the Algerian Coffee Stores, who have been sending me my coffee via post for over a decade now. I was too embarrassed to say anything to the staff, who wouldn't have a clue who I am anyway.