Laurence Sterne, A Sentimental Journey

 That was a worrying read, because I really struggled to digest it. For a long time now, I would have answered the question 'what is your favourite novel?' with the answer 'Tristram Shandy', and would then have pontificated about its wonderful joie de vivre, its  glorification in life's thwarted plans and its humanity and its revelling in a cosmic sense of humour. However having struggled so much with this, I wonder if actually it is just Michael Winterbottom's wonderful film 'A Cock and Bull Story' inspired by Tristram Shandy, which apparently has been a filter in explaining Tristram Shandy to me in noddy terms. There's something very shandyesque about having a favourite book you haven't understood. I was listening to a podcast about Tristram Shandy, which they insisted on calling 'Tristam Shandy' throughout, and they suggested reading one of the nine volumes each year as a treat as the best way to read it. Maybe I can start doing it as a birthday treat each year

Amy Jeffs, Storyland: A New Mythology of Britain

 A retelling of some of the myths of Britain, so many of which I was completely unfamiliar with. I wonder if Amy might be interested, she seems to like mythologies, I will check with her. I do worry about forcing books on people though. It's a beautiful sunny day today, and every day it is getting lighter earlier and staying lighter later, it's so nice. Today we had two very healthy-looking foxes in the garden, who pounced on the left-over Naan and chapatis I threw onto the lawn this morning that were left over from last night. At the weekend I got the family history details from Mum and have been slightly addicted since, looking online at various hints and links to baptismal registers. It's incredible how much more information is available than when I last looked at it 25 years ago, pre-internet. Still plenty of 'ag labs' staying local to Wiltshire, Sussex, IoW and Cambridgeshire though

Robert Rankin, The Antipope

 A nostalgia read. I don't think I've read this since I was 17, as part of a reawakening of reading for me after some fallow years. It was when I was at Uxbridge College so needed something to do on the bus journey there and back (sometimes twice a day) so I started taking advantage of the wonders of Uxbridge Library. I think I started with Terry Pratchett, and picked up a Robert Rankin because the front cover was also by Josh Kirby, so looked very familiar. Other favourite authors of the time were Dick Francis (where did that come from), George MacDonald Fraser and Robert Asprin, who I have hardly thought about since, but whose books I remember finding very funny. I've just googled him and it would appear to be the 'MythAdventures' books I liked so much. Not so much that I want to fork out to read any more though. Same with Robert Rankin, which was just as I remembered it, a strange mix of grubby, dour 70's West London and apocalyptic fantasy. 

Heather Cox Richardson, To Make Men Free: A History of the Republican Party

 A very interesting and very depressing read from one of my current favourite authors, who, inexplicably seems to number our Jonny Clarke among the valued people she consults on American history. Depressing, but not the half of it, as the book was written long before Trump was nominated, and the Tea Party isn't even mentioned. It's a history of the cyclical nature of the Republican party, from a party of equality of opportunity seeking to guard ordinary Americans from wealthy elites (those great Presidents Lincoln, T Roosevelt and Ike), to the in-between party of power held by the wealthy to benefit the wealthy, using the rhetoric of anti-communism, anti-socialism, Americanism, etc allied with racism, homophobia, nationalism and any other tricks required to hold on to power. 

Susan Cooper, The Dark is Rising

 A bonus read, and hopefully the start of a personal tradition. I've reread 'The Dark is Rising' at Christmas before, but never as it unfolds in real time, so starting on Midwinter's Eve and running through to Twelfth Night. I did this year, and was pleasantly surprised to find out from The Guardian Editorial on 3st December that I'm not a weirdo, this is actually a thing: Guardian Editorial

It definitely seemed more magical and exciting in the days before Christmas rather than the last few days of mud, greyness and back-to-work-and-school-ness, and I've never been one for delayed gratification, preferring to binge. So like a Christmas selection box, it doesn't suit me to read a bit of a book every day, I lose the thread and get confused with other books I am reading. It remains a wonderful story for children though, with Will Stanton a cipher for their wish fulfillment about power, being special, danger and knowing stuff adults can't comprehend. a shame my own children show no interest! I'll have to go through Dorney on a cycle to take a good look at the church and big house that are the models for those in Will's Huntercombe. 

John Fowles. The French Lieutenant's Woman

 Best book I have read in a long time and not at all what I was expecting. In my ignorance I assumed it would be a standard Victorian novel of repression, societal restriction and restless romanticism as the heroine spends her waking hours on the Cobb vainly wishing for the return of her lost love. What I hadn't realised was that the book is a post-modern reinvention of the Victorian novel, so although all the above is true, the book comes with a playful narrator who offers alternative endings, can see into the future and play with his characters, and also (hurrah) makes the servants real people with motive and drive rather than wall paper and devices to further the plot. I enjoyed it far more than expected and only wish I'd read it when we holidayed in Lyme, as the town plays such a large part in the early sections of the book. More Fowles please. 

Lucy Mangan, Are We Having Fun Yet?, Caroline Roberts & Angus Hyland, The Book of the Raven: Corvids in Art & Legend

 'I'd read anything by Lucy Mangan, a writer for The Guardian for many years who is an introvert bibliophile with excellent tastes in culture, and writes on the topics and in the style I would if I had the talent. This is her first novel, and as a recent mum it's about the challenges of child-raising. Very funny, and at times was like a mirror on my own life (or how I would like my life to be represented). Worried about Helen reading it as  the husband is very similar to me and is not portrayed in a positive light. This book could cause the Eye of Sauron to be turned on my own slack behaviour. The Book of The Raven was a coffee-table book, read in half an hour or so. Today is my first day back at work and I've been stuck on a call all day so far looking at slides. . .