Gore Vidal, Burr, Norman Stone, Hungary: A Short History, Kate Fox, Watching the English, Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire, John Lanchester, The Wall

I didn't appreciate that 'Burr' was a novel rather than a biography, and the first in a grand series of novels by Gore Vidal charting American History. It's been on my shelves for years, and I wish I'd read it before seeing Hamilton to give a bit more context to another fascinating character. Norman Stone's history of Hungary only surprised me when Stone indulged himself by inserting his own political opinions into the text - How Thatcher saved Britain and the first positive assessment of Viktor Orban I've seen. Not sure what it is about some English historians that make them think it is ok to broadbrush and make sweeping unsupported statements. Much like that one. 'Watching the English' was the 3rd time I've read what has become a comfort read. It's no longer revelatory, but a reassuring reminder of our idiosyncrasies and foibles. 'The Wall' I devoured in a day, a dystopian novel set in a walled Britain following a collapse of global civilisation following an unspecific 'Change'.  IRL, Libby and I were off at a week long cub jamboree last week, she coped better than I expected, and I'm secretly sad that she has now slipped back into calling me 'Dad' rather than 'Baloo'

John Cheever, Falconer, John Masefield, The Box of Delights

Falconer was another book where I simply don’t understand why it is on the list of essential novels. Another book where the protagonist is a prosperous middle-aged east coast academic, albeit one serving a life sentence in prison. The greatest praise on the back of the book came from Joan Didion, another writer on the list whose presence I don't understand (based solely on the book 'Play It As It Lays'). What am I missing? I wonder if perhaps these are writers who are thought worthy because of the total sum of their writings, essays, short stories etc, but for whom neither had an iconic book. 'Box of Delights' was a comfort read, bought as yet another attmpet to get Freddie to read more, but he wasn't interested unfortunately. Have found out since though that the Davies family (Freddie is in the same class as Abel) named their eldest Kay as they loved the book so much. William is a big fan of Abel, who he does insists on calling 'Mabel'.

Harry Pearson, The Beast, The Emperor & The Milkman

A History of cycling in Flanders, and a study of the Flemish character. Further light relief much needed at the moment. I'll concentrate on the positives though, and THFC's inexplicable progress to the Champions League Final. Still can’t believe how much we have ridden our luck and wheedled out of elimination against Inter, Barcelona, Man City and now Ajax. It's a shame to be playing Liverpool rather than Barcelona in the final, but we're there, God knows if we'll do it again in my life time. Apparently if we win it will be the biggest gap between a winner picking up the trohpy and winning their own domestic league - 69 years. . .

George Orwell, The Lion & The Unicorn, Tom Bower, Jeremy Corbyn: A Dangerous Hero, Natasha Pulley, Bedlam Stacks, Carson McCullar, The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter, Philip Mansel, Aleppo: The Rise and Fall of Syria's Great Merchant City, Imogen Hermes Gowar, The Mermaid & Mrs Hancock, Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse 5, James McPherson, Battle Cry of Freedom: The Civil War Era, Bernard Cornwell, Excalibur, Francis Beckett (Ed), The Prime ministers Who Never Were, Geoff Dyer, Broadsword Calling Danny Boy, David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest, map book, Chris Mullin, The Friends of Harry Perkins

Infinite Jest was a slog, it has taken weeks and I don't think I understood a word of it. I only got through by referring to the plot on the Wikipedia page.  I had to have a few easy reads in between for light relief.  Had a really bad week as Colin Fox passed away on Wednesday, a great guy with three young sons, and Freddie broke his wrist in the school playground. He's been in so much pain and unable to sleep, so I've been sleeping on his floor for the past few nights and am exhausted. On the plus side, the cubs won the Tug-of-War contest for the first time since 2012 and inexplicably Tottenham are in the semi-final of the Champions League

Serhii Plokhy, Lost Kingdom, Raymond Chandler, The Big Sleep, Henry Miller, Tropic of Cancer

Lost Kingdom was A History of Russian Nationalism, concentrating on the identity of Ukraine and Belarus. What a mess. I think I've probably read 'The Big Sleep' before, and certainly I've seen the film, and it just didn't connect with me - the same with Tropic of Cancer, which has been praised to the skies, but appears to have no plot at all to me. Talking of plots, 7 MPs left the Labour Party yesterday. Part of me is disappointed as the Labour Party should be a broad church and include all progressives, but another part of me is glad to see the back of 7 troublemakers who were actively working against Corbyn and sewing discord.  They don't feel comfortable in the current Labour Party, but I and hundreds of thousands of others feel that the Labour Party is the best it has been in a long long time. It's a real shock to hear that Labour MPs applauded the 7 for leaving, and the sympathy for their position coming from Tom Watson and other MPs makes one realise the massive gap that exists between Labour party members and MPs. This isn't over yet, as there remains a PLP heavily weighted towards centrist, Blairite liberals and a membership that is primarily socialist. There is a realignment coming, but I cannot believe there is any demand for another centrist, liberal, pro-remain party when the Lib Dems already have that territory.  Hopefully Labour will move towards a model of open primaries and mandatory reselection so we can get MPs that are selected by, accountable to, and representative of their constituencies.

Liane Moriarty, Big Little Lies, Thomas Williams, Viking Britain: A History, Edith Wharton, The House of Mirth, Ian Mortimer, The Outcasts of Time, Mark Seddon & Francis Beckett, Jeremy Corbyn and the Strange Rebirth of Labour England, Mick Herron, Real Tigers, Daniel Defoe, Robinson Crusoe

Big Little Lies has been on my shelf for a while, but I started reading it as Helen had another Liane Moriarty book for her Book Club (I'm very jealous of Helen being in a book club). It's marketed as chick-lit, but it's actually a lot darker and revolves around dysfunctional relationships and domestic violence. the format makes it seem more light-hearted with the flashback interviews with clueless pompous parents. The House of Mirth was that rarity, an 'essential novel' that engaged me and wasn't too much of a slog. i loved the character of Lily too, a female protagonist trapped in a patriarchal society that limits her freedom of action, but who still manages to chart her own course. Outcasts of Time was disappointing, a time-travelling novel by an author whose history books I've enjoyed. it just seemed flat and a whistle-stop tour of what has changed from century to century. Forks! Mirrors! Trains!. Meh.  The Corbyn book I couldn't put down, so good to read a book where I agreed with practically every word and which gave a fine overview of Labour history and its current status. I really don't know what is going to happen with the party, part of me wants the Blairites to split off as they are undermining Corbyn so much by weaponising anti-semitism and Europe, and I don't believe for a second that the country is crying out for another liberal, pro-market party. Just like the SDP, it'd be immensely popular with a certain type of broadsheet reader, but no-one else. On the other hand, splitting the progressive vote just means the Conservatives get back in.  Real Tigers was fab, which seems odd for any novel where the climax is set in a warehouse in Hayes. Robinson Crusoe was hard work, I ended up skim-reading through. i understand its importance as arguably the first novel in the english language, but after 300 years of plot development and character building, it seems primitive and from the 'and then' school of children's creative writing. The introduction was very interesting, explaining that Defoe's motivation for writing the novel was entirely commercial, and in explaining the character of Robinson Crusoe as a protestant proto-imperialist. It is quite shocking how casual he is about selling his companion Xury into slavery, and assumes that everything on the island is his by right to exploit as he wishes.  I guess that's the 21st century interpretation of Crusoe though, but blimey, it was hard to believe some of his behaviour and assumptions

William Gibson, Neuromancer

The book that inspired all those cult, seminal, influential dystopian films like Blade Runner and The Matrix that I don't like. I wonder if I would have felt differently if I had read it in the early '80s when the mixture of cybernetics, drugs and martial arts might have felt fresh and exciting as a vision of the future rather than the standard expectation that it seems to have become. I trudged through it to the end out of duty