october-november 2026 books…

Devotions: House Of Light+Dreamwork (Mary Oliver): I read (out loud) these collections of Oliver’s poetry from 1986 and 1990 as part of my daily, early morning routine… the ideal way (for me) to reflect on the coming of a new day. I never tire of Mary Oliver’s wise words.
Gigs (Mark Mosedale+Si Smith): I am incredibly fortunate to have lots of brilliantly-creative friends and family members, but my great friend Si Smith is perhaps the person/artist I most revere. He is the illustrator of this extraordinary graphic novel (with thought-provoking, biting, but often very funny words by his friend Mark Mosedale) which paints the picture of a world “in a frighteningly near future where Universal Basic Income has to be earned by completing gig work assigned by ‘he app’”… as the book’s cover puts it: “AI took the work. Gigs replaced jobs. Ordinary people are left to scrape together lives in a world that’s no longer built for them”. Together, over the course of nearly 300 pages, Mosedale+Smith tell six divergent stories that provide a powerful warning of “the oppressive world to come and a defiant celebration of the humanity that will sprout up in the cracks”. It’s a truly remarkable book (Si’s illustrations are just brilliant) – almost Orwellian in character, shocking, humbling, thought-provoking and moving. I’ve already read it twice… and I will no doubt keep on re-reading it over future months/years. Ridiculously, there are well over 2,000 illustrations and, of course, both times I’ve read it so far, I saw different things that I missed first time round. I can’t recommend this book highly enough… add it to your Christmas present list NOW!
Pastors And Masters (Ivy Compton-Burnett): The novel was first published 100 years ago; we’ve had our copy on our shelves for more than 30 years. Usually, I’m very fond of the work of English writers of the 1920s/30s… but, not this one, I’m afraid. This short novel is set in a third-rate boys’ preparatory school and deals with various dreary aspects of school life and a core plot which revolves around claims by three colleagues about the authorship of a literary work… and, in addition (thanks to Google): “institutional tyranny; the dominance of patriarchal and religious authorities; and female subservience”. Clearly, Compton-Burnett was a highly-rated writer (the book’s cover describes her thus: “probably the purest and most original of contemporary English artists”). I’m afraid I found the novel hugely unimpressive and, frankly, rather boring.
South (Sir Ernest Shackleton, edited by Peter King): I first read this book in 2015; it gives Shackleton’s account of his Trans-Antarctic Expedition of 1914-17. It’s grim, gruelling stuff in terrifying conditions (and all undertaken with no communication with the outside world!). Shackleton’s ship, the ‘Endurance’, was crushed by the ice and he and his men made the 600-mile trek to reach solid land. It’s superbly written (and also contains Frank Hurley’s stunning photographs) and, clearly, Shackleton was a remarkable man – and a true leader (and almost worshipped by the team in his charge) in atrocious circumstances. Since that time, however, his life and his account of the expedition have been revalued by scholars (including Peter King) and have provided illuminating additional details, such as: the major defects in his organisation; inadequate finance; lack of training provided for his crew; failure to provide proper supplies of food … and other various ancillary issues: his womanising; his temper; his disregard for his parents in their declining years; his attitude towards his wife and children – including living off his wife’s money etc. Nevertheless, it’s an impressive, truly epic and harrowing story.
The Grim Smile Of The Five Towns (Arnold Bennett): This book of short stories was first published in 1907. Bennett was born and raised in the Potteries and the Five Towns relate to Tunstall, Burslem. Fenton, Stoke and Longton. I really enjoyed the stories (the book’s cover refers to the “pride, pretensions and provincial snobbery of the Potteries” being handled with “amused tolerance” by the author) and was very pleasantly surprised by their humour. I particularly enjoyed the names of some of characters – such as Vera Cheswardine and Sir Jehoshaphat Dain! Very enjoyable. 

NAZA...

I’ve tried to remain objective about all the complex Israeli-Palestinian politics, but I continue to find this extremely difficult. I was utterly appalled by the brutal Hamas attack on Israel in 7/10/2023 but, by the same token, have been sickened by Israel’s devasting retaliation in Gaza which has led to so much destruction and loss of life.
Another trip to the Watershed. This time to see the 2026 investigative documentary film ‘NAZA’ directed by Yuval Abraham and Rachel Szor (‘Naza’ is reputedly what Israel’s military chiefs in Gaza refer to as ‘civilian collateral damage’).
The film contains 24 interviews with Israeli military insiders who detail how an AI-assisted apparatus of mass surveillance was activated during the Gaza war, revealing the systems that were used to target Hamas operatives in the knowledge that large numbers of Palestinian civilians would also die.
It’s a chilling, horrifying documentary… the interviews are conducted on the condition of anonymity – which inevitably lessens the impact of the testimonies – but they’re brutal nevertheless.
Whatever one’s political stance, the destruction and loss of life in Gaza is surely profoundly sickening and totally unacceptable…
When the film finished, I was left feeling utterly numb.
There was absolute silence in the cinema as the credits rolled… and absolute silence as everyone departed.
The silence said it all. 

october 2026 books…

Marriage (David Harsent): I’m a great lover of Harsent’s poetry – his words resonate for me when I read them out loud (as I often do). First published in 2002, this book consists of two sequences of poems. The first is loosely based on the relationship between the artist Pierre Bonnard and Marthe de Meligny – his muse and model, who eventually became his wife. The book’s cover notes refer to “the mysteries of domesticity, its unspoken privacies and intimacies, where the painter’s problems of seeing coincide with the husband’s problems of knowing”. The second sequence focuses on the hare (a familiar theme for Harsent). Sadly, I think I’ve virtually exhausted the extent of the poet’s work… I may need to do some re-reading!
One Hundred Shadows (Hwang Jungeun): This is our next Storysmith bookclub choice (theme: Korea-focused book). This South Korean novella that blends quiet social realism with offbeat magical realism. The setting is a dilapidated, slum electronics market in central Seoul scheduled for government demolition and gentrification. The key characters are two young school dropouts working as repair-shop assistants and who share a tender, tentative relationship. Against this backdrop of forced evictions and economic anxiety (drum roll social realism), the physical shadows of the neighbourhood's struggling inhabitants begin to mysteriously ‘rise’ and peel away from their bodies. Although I found it quite an enchanting, haunting and darkly beautiful book at times, there’s something about Korean novels (sorry, this is a ridiculous generalisation, I know) that I find a little off-putting (Han Kang’s ‘The Vegetarian’; Cho Nam-Joo’s ‘Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982’). For me: interesting, without being compelling.
A Parrot In The Pepper Tree (Chris Stewart): I first read this book in 2010 (part of the ‘Driving Over Lemons’ trilogy. I was about to enter hospital and needed a relaxing book (I rejected the tempting option of ‘Middlemarch’ – far too ‘dense’!). Well, it certainly worked for me… Stewart is a very amusing writer and I really rather loved the tales of his family’s adventures in Los Alpujarras (south of Granada) – with all the characters and the landscape. Very enjoyable, relaxing read. Good choice!
The Village Cricket Match (John Parker): I must have read this book four or five times (the last time was 10 years ago) since I bought it in 1979. Of course, it’s ridiculously dated (describing thatched cottages on the South Downs being sold for £20,000, for example) and paints a romantic picture of rural England from a bygone age – rather too sugary perhaps! Nevertheless, I liked its predictability, its familiarity and the cricketing memories that it evoked – a bit like sporting comfort food! It’s full of descriptions of the preparations, routines and typical characters involved in a typical Sunday afternoon cricket match in an English village.
The Things We Never Say (Elizabeth Strout): I really LOVE Strout’s writing! Life has been a ‘little hectic’ lately(!) and so I decided to treat myself to the hardback version of her latest book (it won’t be available in paperback until next summer). Her novels are often about people in the later stages of their lives and, perhaps, that’s of the appeal for me? There’s a quiet, powerful, gentleness to her stories which I find absolutely captivating. She writes beautifully about ‘ordinary’ people… about their frustrations and their experiences. Her stories are deceptively simple, yet profound, wise and, time and time again, about decency. I’ve read a lot of her books (nine, I think?!), but think this is her best yet. Definitely now left with that bereft feeling of ‘happy sadness’… absolutely LOVED this book.  

fatherland…

I went along to the Watershed this afternoon (it’s been a long time!) to see Paweł Pawlikowski’s film “Fatherland” (shot in monochrome by Lukasz Zal).
Set in 1949 (the year of my birth), celebrated novelist Thomas Mann (who fled the Nazis before the war) has returned home and first visits Frankfurt (West Germany) to receive an award named after Goethe (and is assigned a CIA liaison), but embarrasses his hosts by announcing his intention to accept a second award in Weimar (Soviet Germany).
Mann evidently aspires to float free from history, it seems… but where is his commitment?
Mann (played by Hanns Zischler) is accompanied by his long-suffering daughter Erika (brilliantly played by Sandra Hüller). It’s a complex story – which I won’t even try to unravel – about cold war acrimony, family conflict and tragedy, betrayal, and the impossibility of going home.
It’s a powerful, very impressive film.
Note 1: Amid all the sombre greyness, the film’s other ‘star’ is the gleaming, black 1948 Buick Super.
Note 2: For me, I always associate Thomas Mann with his novella ‘Death In Venice’ - drawing in part on his own experience in Venice during the 1911 cholera epidemic (and, of course, the wonderful film of the same name).   

october-september 2026 books...

Midsummer Night In The Workhouse (Diana Athill): I’ve read a number of Athill’s celebrated memoirs and have really enjoyed them (she was ridiculously posh, but seemed to have a wonderfully decent attitude to life). So, this book of short stories (written mostly in the late 1950s and first published by Persephone Books in 2011) is the first of her fiction I’ve read. They’re essentially all told from a woman's point of view - exploring female sexual desire, independence, regret, and introspection with refreshing honesty – and are set in England, France, and Italy. Her prose, just like her memoirs, is unsentimental, sharp, perceptive, and darkly funny… and containing several pieces which draw subtly on Athill's own life experiences. I very much enjoyed them (they provided some of my ‘holiday reading’ while we were away in Tenby).
A Refiner’s Fire (Donna Leon): I picked up this in a charity bookshop while on holiday. It’s another Commissario Brunetti Mystery set in Venice. This one involves two teenage gangs clashing violently in one of the city’s squares… and the son of a local hero is implicated. But, when Guido Brunetti is asked to vet this man, he discovers he might not be such a hero after all. As ever with Leon’s books, this one was very readable (and another perfect holiday read) and I consumed it in 2 days.
I Curse The River Of Time (Per Patterson): Another charity shop purchase while on holiday in Tenby (the second Norwegian novel I’ve read in the past couple of months!). The book is set in Autumn 1989 (English translation first published in 2010). Arvid Jansen is in the throes of a divorce; at the same time, his mother is diagnosed with cancer. Arvid is struggling to find a new footing in his life… everything around him seems to be changing fast; he recalls beach holidays with his brothers; his early working life devoted to Communist ideals; his courtship… and, inevitably, his relationship with his tough, independent mother (a relationship of distance and unspoken pain)(and Arvid himself is a pretty awkward character). So, obviously, not a bundle of laughs!! But, I have to say (given Petterson’s revelation as a writer), I was a little disappointed. I found it had too many repetitive, fussy details (probably in line with Arvid’s character, but hey…) and that the varying timescales were often quite confusing. A book for re-cycling methinks.
Imogen Imagine (Steve Couch): This is the third book written by my good friend Steve (always a bit special when creative friends do such things!). It’s a novel about music, celebrity, love and treachery. The book’s title is the name of a song written by a young musician immortalising the breakup of a cherished relationship from his youth. That musician has now become a huge pop-idol but, sadly, thanks to world of social media and money-focussed management, the girl in the song becomes a target of hate and vitriol. She tries to take back control, but only succeeds in creating a vicious, frightening backlash… (I’ll leave it there… *no spoilers*). A powerful, thought-provoking novel. I really enjoyed it.
The Harold Nicolson Diaries 1907-1963 (ed. Nigel Nicolson): I first read (and very much enjoyed) this book (published in 2004) in 2011 and have recently been reminded of his fascinating life while reading ‘The Assassin’s Cloak’ (which contains numerous extracts from his diaries). Nicholson (1886-1968) was a fascinating man and lived an extraordinary life – which spanned the two World Wars, the rise of the Nazis in the 1930s and Churchill’s time as prime minister. He was a diplomat, an MP, writer, broadcaster and a gardener… and, although there were lots of things I found difficult to reconcile with regarding his life (eg. his upper-class background; his friends in all the ‘high’ places; his essentially Conservative politics - although he did end up joining the Labour Party), he struck me as a very decent man. Hugely intelligent; articulate; gracious; and a very supportive friend (with friendships right across the political divide). He and his wife Vita Sackville-West seemed to have had a very loving, special marriage… and I loved their various beautiful, tender letter exchanges. I was SO pleased to come back to this book and enjoyed it enormously (again).

september 2026 books (more!)…

Unto Us A Son Is Given (Donna Leon): Apparently (according to my blog), this is the 10^th Leon book I’ve read… ridiculous. She’s definitely not an Agatha Christie, but I do enjoy the way she writes (well, I like Guido Brunetti and his family!)… and, of course, I just love feeling I’m back in Venice again.
Put Out More Flags (Evelyn Waugh): I’ve always liked Waugh’s books and bought this one on a whim at a second-hand book store… and then promptly slotted it on to one of our bookshelves and forgot it! Fortunately, I recently re-discovered it (while looking for another book, as you do!) and really enjoyed it. It’s set in the opening months of WW2 and is “a sharp, transitional satire about upper-class English idlers navigating the absurdities of the early ‘Phoney War’” (as Wikipedia puts it)… and focusing on social posturing, bureaucratic incompetence, and evacuation schemes. The book was first published in 1942 (my copy is 1943) at a time when Waugh was a Captain in the Royal Marines. It’s both hilarious and shocking. I loved it.
The Living Mountain (Nan Shepherd): This is our next Storysmith book selection (I’ve read it twice before, but never tire of it). Nan Shepherd (1893-1981) was a rather special woman. She was born and lived almost all her adult life in the village of West Cults, three miles from Aberdeen and worked for 41 years as a lecturer in English at what is now Aberdeen College of Education. She was a keen hill walker and lover of nature. She wrote ‘The Living Mountain’ (the Cairngorm mountains of Scotland) during the years of WW2, but the manuscript lay untouched for more than 30 years before it was finally published (in 1977). I found it breathtakingly beautiful in its quiet simplicity; it’s not a mountaineering book or a travel guide (and doesn’t contain a single photograph or illustration), it’s a book that reflects a life lived within these mountains – the sounds, the senses, the air, the light, the colours, the plants, the climate… and much much more. It’s a very gentle book that one needs to take time reading… digesting her words and realising (yet again) the importance of looking+seeing, listening+hearing, stopping+digesting… just as Shepherd took her time to fully appreciate the environment in which she lived. Utterly beautiful.
Where The Streams Come From (Chris Goan): I keep coming back to this book by my good friend Chris (first published in 2018) - as part of my daily, early morning, read-out-loud reflections. It certainly works for me!
Windswept (Annie Worsley): Worsley was an academic: a physical geographer whose specialism was landform. She and her family had visited the Highlands of Scotland for many years - especially the more remote parts of Wester Ross. A decade ago, she and her husband decided to trade in their lives in the north-west of England, and settle on a couple of old crofts in South Erradale, to the west of the Torridon mountains. They both enjoyed walking and climbing, and looked forward to getting better acquainted with this remote area… but Worsley developed a debilitating autoimmune condition, as a result of Lyme disease, which hugely limited her ability to explore the landscape - as a result, she’s been ‘forced’ to focus on the ‘small details’… and this is one of the delights of her writing. The book (published in 2023) takes us through the seasons - starting at the autumn equinox - and so I’ve gently been following its journey over the past 12 months. Worsley is a brilliant writer and her descriptions are beautifully lyrical in character. It’s an enriching, wonderful book… and I’m really going to miss my regular meanderings with her (and it was lovely that finishing the book coincided with my re-reading of Nan Shepherd’s ‘The Living Mountain’… similar writing styles and outlooks and both set in Scotland).

september 2026 books...

The Music Shop (Rachel Joyce): This is our next Blokes’ book… about an old music shop – jam-packed with records of every genre (classical, jazz, punk…) as long as it’s vinyl. The owner has a magical gift of finding the music his customers need. One day a German woman asks him to teach her about music… and so the story develops. The woman is not what she seems and the shop-owner is reminded of the old wounds of his past. I’ve read a number of Joyce’s books and this one, again, contains a blend of quirky characters, the appreciation of everyday life and the resilience of the human spirit. Joyce is a great story-teller and I very much enjoyed this novel (which I consumed in 2 days) - it’s tender, funny and uplifting (although I did find the ending perhaps a little too predictably ‘unreal’).
The All-Nite Café (Philip Gross): Another of my early-morning-read-out-loud books of poetry. I think this is the third of Gross’s books I’ve read (he apparently lives in Bristol). There’s a strangeness to his poems (the ghost of a railway station and a negative uncle, punk mermaids and a deadbeat circus…) which I’ve concluded, perhaps unfairly, aren’t quite my cup-of tea.
Olive Again (Elizabeth Strout): I just LOVE Strout’s writing. This one (first published in 2019) is a follow-up to her ‘Olive Kitteridge’ novel (published in 2008 and which I read last year). Like many of her books, this tells stories of ordinary people in Maine, New England – here, focussing once again on a retired schoolteacher, Olive Kitteridge (now in her late-70s/early 80s): indomitable, unpredictable and uncompromising character (“Olive Kitteridge had never in anyone’s memory felt inclined to be affable, or even polite…”!). It is two years since Olive’s husband, Henry, died, and grief has not mellowed her: she is still brusque, unforgiving, formidable. But beneath it all there’s compassion, empathy and vulnerability, as Olive starts to feel aware of her own mortality. The book comprises 13 tales which explore Strout’s preoccupations with grief, loneliness and familial torments. Much of the book is about life’s regrets – especially those concerning Olive’s family. Once again, a beautiful, powerful novel – which I absolutely loved. Can’t wait for her next book to come out in paperback…
The Cinder Path (Andrew Motion): I’ve enjoyed a number of Motion’s books of poetry and memoirs over recent years. This collection (first published in 2009) includes works as diverse as the last surviving veteran of the tranches and parallel lives glimpsed in paintings… but, for me, the highlight was the final set of autobiographical poems about the life and times of his father. Honest, poignant and moving.
Cat Among The Pigeons (Agatha Christie): One of the very few Agatha Christie books on our bookshelves (and there are dozens of them!) that I hadn’t previously read. First published in 1959, this one is set in one of England’s most exclusive girls’ schools and involves jewels, secret agents and, of course, murder. Was the culprit one of the staff or, maybe, even a pupil? Hercule Poirot enters the fray (after being consulted by one of the pupils) pretty late in the day, waves his magic wand and the case is solved!! Not one of Christie’s most impressive mysteries, but clever and entertaining nevertheless.