Category Archives: books

10 Books I Hated / Can’t Read: Part 2

Following on from my series of 10 Books I’ve Loved I now bring you 10 Books I Hated or Can’t Read

Some of these I’ve read and didn’t like, some were destroyed for me by school, and some I’ve tried and just couldn’t get to grips with despite wanting to.

Rather than spread this across 10 days, one book per day, I’m posting this in two posts, each of five books, a few days apart. Also (because I want to) I’m going to provide a short commentary on why I found each book so difficult. This is part two.

In each part I’m nominating three people to produce their own list, in any way they like – just leave a comment here with a link to yours. The second three are: Sophie Clissold-Lesser, Nick Birns, Gabriella Walfridson. Of course anyone else is welcome to sing along!


Leo Tolstoy; War and Peace

I tried reading this, from choice, in my teens. I failed. I could not get into it and couldn’t identify with it as nothing seemed to happen in slow motion. Oh and there was too much of it.


Thomas Hardy; The Mayor of Casterbridge

This is another that was destroyed for me by being flogged through it at school. I detested it so much that I remember almost nothing about it.


Haruki Murakami; The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle

I’ve tried to read this two or three times, but I’ve had to give up each time as for some reason I find it depressing, with the prospect that it gets worse as you go on. I’m told it isn’t like that, but that’s what it does to me. I’ve also found this with the other bits of Murakami I’ve tried, so it’s likely something about the way either his subject matter or his style work on me. It’s a shame as there’s something I still find intriguing here.


Charles Dickens; A Christmas Carol

Yet one more destroyed by school, and on every encounter since. I find it (as I find almost all Dickens) dark, disturbing, depressing … and tedious. The only Dickens I’ve ever tried and enjoyed is Pickwick Papers.


James Joyce; Ulysses

My parents had an early copy of Ulysses – it may even have been the original contraband Paris edition – so I read it in my mid-teens. To this day I don’t know why I bothered. WTF is it on about? Whatever it is made no sense at all. Even the Hardy and Dickens I so hate at least make some sense. I have a suspicion that Joyce is just taking the gullible for a ride.


Later in the year I hope to follow on with at least one further, similar, theme: I already have Books I Found Influential / Formative lined up. (Yes, that’s different to Books I’ve Loved.) There may be others.

10 Books I Hated / Can’t Read: Part 1

Following on from my series of 10 Books I’ve Loved I now bring you 10 Books I Hated or Can’t Read

Some of these I’ve read and didn’t like, some were destroyed for me by school, and some I’ve tried and just couldn’t get to grips with despite wanting to.

Rather than spread this across 10 days, one book per day, I’m posting this in two parts, each of five books, a few days apart. Also (because I want to) I’m going to provide a short commentary on why I found each book so difficult. This is part the first.

In each part I’m nominating three people to produce their own list, in any way they like – just leave a comment here with a link to yours. The first three are: June Laurenson, Graham Page, Sue Lubkowska. Of course anyone else is welcome to sing along!


JRR Tolkien; Lord of the Rings

I would like to read this, if only to know what all the fuss is about. But over the years I’ve tried several times and never managed to get past page 50. I just don’t find it captivating.


Mervyn Peake; Titus Alone

Having read the first two books of the trilogy, I embarked on the third but had to give up about a quarter of the way through as I found it just too depressing.


Grace Metalious; Peyton Place

I read this in my early teens because everyone at school was talking about it, and it was supposed to be salacious. Frankly it was an extemely tedious soap opera.


Salman Rushdie; Satanic Verses

I will not be told by anyone what I may/may not read, so when some Ayatollah put an interdict on this I made sure I acquired a copy. In two or three attempts I’ve never got past page five; it’s worse than Finnegan’s Wake and that’s going some.


John Buchan; The Thirty-Nine Steps

Like all the (so-called) classics, this was destroyed for me by having to flog through it at school, at an age when I found engaging with books difficult. It doesn’t help that I read slowly, so I was always way behind with any reading assignment.


Part two in a few days time.

One Small Step

After an almost infinite number of years the British Library has finally opening its “Private Case” – ie. writing it has considered too obscene for general access – and digitised the 2500 books it contains. The digitised images will be made available online.

But don’t all rush. Although the “Private Case” collection has been accessible to the public through the British Library’s rare books collection since the 1960s, the digitisation means the titles will now be available to a wider audience: by subscription to libraries and higher education institutions, or free at the BL’s reading rooms in London and Yorkshire. So you’ll still have to be a bona fide person to get access. Why, I don’t know as much of the contents are already widely available on the open market.

But let’s rejoice! It is a small step forward for freedom and the removal of prudery.

Book Review: A Monk’s Guide to a Clean House and Mind

Shoukei Matsumoto
A Monk’s Guide to a Clean House and Mind

Penguin; 2018

This is a curious little book which does very much what it says in the title. It is about cleaning, as zen monks do it in the monastery, as well as meditation. The life of the zen monk is hard – much harder than we realise; for another perspective see Gesshin Greenwood – and very strictly regulated. It is clear that many things are done the way they have always been done: because it works, is sustainable in a moneyless society, and is as light as possible on the environment.

By having to do everything precisely the right way, all the time, every time, it is possible to not have to think about what you’re doing but concentrate on doing it. So everything from preparing food and polishing floors, to tidying the garden and having a shit, become part of the meditative practice.

When it comes to cleaning a temple, polishing the floor is as basic a chore as it gets. For many monks, a day does not go by that they don’t clean the floors of the temple corridors.

Since the floors are thoroughly polished day in and day out, every inch of them is beautiful, with their surface, blackened through hundreds of years of use, taking on an almost translucent, fossilized look. You can walk through a carefully maintained temple all day long in white socks without worrying about discolouring them. There is no dust or grime to speak of.

It is the job of the monks to perform the upkeep on these beautifully preserved floors. They are polished every day whether they appear to need it or not.

When you are polishing the floor, you are polishing your heart and your mind.

The point of housework is to clean up dirt and grime, isn’t it? So you might be wondering what is the point of cleaning something that is already spotless. But for monks the physical act of polishing the floor is analogous to cleaning the earthly dirt from your soul.

This book is a collection of very short pieces about the various cleaning and maintenance jobs the monks do, and the way in which they are also a method of meditation. Although translated from the Japanese, the sense of strangeness, quirkiness and totally other has been retained; and that made it for me an interesting, even inspiring, read.

My criticism? There were places where I felt I wanted a bit more detail about how things were done and the rhythm of daily life.

Nevertheless, if you are interested in zen, the way zen monks practice, or just curious about other ways of life, then this is a delightful, short read.

Overall Rating: ★★★★☆

Book Non-Review

Kate Bennett (Editor)
John Aubrey: Brief Lives with An Apparatus for the Lives of our English Mathematical Writers

(OUP; paperback, 2vv, £50, 2018; hardback, 1vv, £250, 2015)

I’ve been dipping into the paperback edition of this enormous work over the last few weeks. It is so massive – the two volumes are together almost 2000 pages! – that dip into it is all one realistically can do, hence my reluctance to write proper review.

No, almost 2000 pages is not an exaggeration. Amazon quotes the work as being 1968 pages. So no wonder OUP have split the paperback edition into two volumes.

Volume I is 900+ pages and contains John Aubrey’s Brief Lives, together with “The Apparatus …” and a 125-page extended introduction. The Brief Lives themselves are, for the first time ever, reprinted entire and complete with Aubrey’s marginalia (often heraldic drawings, but also notes). Volume II is over 1000 pages of scholarly notes and commentary on the content of Volume I plus 50 pages of index.

I really can’t do better than to quote a couple of the reviews (also quoted on Amazon) from two other Aubrey scholars:

It is not an exaggeration to claim that until Kate Bennett came along, no one properly understood what the Brief Lives are … [Her edition] marks a new beginning for Aubrey scholarship … It is fitting that such scholarly devotion, extending over two decades, should have given rise to an edition that is an innovation in its own right. Nothing like it has appeared before, and it will last, if not forever, for a very long time.
[Ruth Scurr, Times Literary Supplement]

This is an outstanding achievement and will undoubtedly be the standard edition of the Brief Lives for the foreseeable future … In its rich and varied content it is of interest … to anyone studying English learned culture in the seventeenth century, particularly historians of the Royal Society, of mathematics and of antiquarianism. Aubrey himself was acutely concerned that his works should be satisfactorily edited and made use of after his death; in this edition he is luckier than he could have hoped for.
[Kelsey Jackson Williams, History]

Having heard Kate Bennet speak at the 2016 Anthony Powell Conference in York, and been fortunate enough to sit next to her at the conference dinner, I can certainly vouch for her enthusiasm, insight and wide-ranging interests. And this is an amazing piece of work.

Womanhood: The Bare Reality

Laura Dodsworth, author of Manhood: The Bare Reality has a new book coming out, but unfortunately not until next February.

Its title: Womanhood: The Bare Reality.

You can, of course, pre-order it on Amazon or from the publishers Pinter & Martin.

The book promises to do for women, what Manhood did for men: tell of the variety and the stories of man and manhood. As the blurb an Amazon says:

100 women bare all in an empowering collection of photographs and interviews about Womanhood.

Vagina, vulva, lady garden, pussy, beaver, c**t, fanny … whatever you call it most women have no idea what’s ‘down there’. Culturally and personally, no body part inspires love and hate, fear and lust, worship and desecration in the same way.

From smooth Barbie dolls to internet porn, girls and women grow up with a very narrow view of what they should look like, even though in reality there is an enormous range. Womanhood departs from the ‘ideal vagina’ and presents the gentle un-airbrushed truth, allowing us to understand and celebrate our diversity.

For the first time, 100 brave and beautiful women reveal their bodies and stories on their own terms, talking about how they feel about pleasure, sex, pain, trauma, birth, motherhood, menstruation, menopause, gender, sexuality and simply being a woman.

Laura comments further in a recent Facebook post:

“A major issue for women is that men and society are really interested in defining womanhood for us and without us. A lot of the time, women don’t have an awful lot of input into the definition of womanhood, yet we’re judged against it. Women have to make choices that men don’t ever have to make.”
From Womanhood: The Bare Reality

A bold first quote to share from Womanhood. I’ve already been #notallmen-ed on Twitter, so let me say, I love men, this is not anti-men. (I LOVE men.) Remember Manhood?

But this is the point; Womanhood is an exploration of female experience through the embodied stories of 100 women. We define Womanhood on our own terms and in our own words. We reveal ourselves to ourselves and to each other. And it’s about time.

Laura’s previous books (Manhood: The Bare Reality and Bare Reality: 100 Women, Their Breasts, Their Stories) were amazing, revealing and informative, so I’m really am looking forward to reading Womanhood: The Bare Reality. My copy is already on order.

Full disclosure: I was one of the 100 men featured in Manhood.

Book Review: Bow First, Ask Questions Later

Gesshin Claire Greenwood
Bow First, Ask Questions Later
Wisdom, USA; 2018

Having just finished this book, I’m still not quite sure what my emotions are towards it – beyond pure admiration, that is. So I’m going to start with a couple of quotes from other people. First here’s Ruth Ozeki on the cover blurb:

With rigour, honesty, hilarity, and joy, Gesshin shows us how to grapple with the great matter of life and death – as well as with lesser matters, like capitalism, sexism, religious dogma, sex, love, fashion, and Kyoto nightclubs. The result is an inspiring book that I couldn’t put down, even when I’d finished reading it.

And here’s an extract from the Foreword by our other favourite Zen Master, Brad Warner:

Gesshin Greenwood is … an honest-to-Buddha Zen nun, with the shaven head to prove it. She went through the kind of rigorous training in traditional Zen temple practice that most of the folks you see writing puffed-up fluff pieces for those slick spiritual magazines… avoided like politicians evading the draft …
I [am] amazed that someone as young as she had such a deep background in Buddhist practice experience … Gesshin … really did all the stuff … She actually immersed herself in Japanese Zen temple life for years doing all the ceremonies, all the services, all the cooking and cleaning and the rest of it …
… It’s rare that someone from the West does any of this stuff, rarer still when they write about it, and yet even more rare that their writing is as good as Gesshin’s is. This is a truly unique document of a truly unique lived experience.

I’ve been reading Gesshin’s weblog, That’s So Zen, for some years and have always found it illuminating, if at times hard to fully understand. This book travels some of the same ground, which is good because everything is newly written and so helps reinforce the “learning”.

Although the book is autobiographical it is first and foremost a book about Zen Buddhism, but not in a dry academic way; as Brad says it is extremely well written, in a light, engaging style which does indeed make it difficult to put down – I had to ration myself to a couple of chapters an evening to avoid reading through the night.

Gesshin is a self-confessed white, privileged Californian, with hippy, Buddhist parents; and as the book goes on one comes to realise she was probably something of an angry brat (but then aren’t all teenagers?). Nonetheless she wanted to study Buddhism, and felt even in college strangely attracted to it; and that emotional connexion is passed on to the reader.

She started in India, and went to Tibet, before finding her spiritual home in the Sōtō Zen tradition in Japan, and in the rigorous setting of an all female Zen monastery. This is her story, of her journey; and one isn’t sure until well into the book quite where things are going to end up.

Gesshin talks frankly about the hardships, heartaches, tragedies and mistakes – as well as the joys – of her practice and shows how each of them allowed her to grow. Each of the 25 short chapters focusses on some particular event to illuminate her learning. We see something of her relationships with her teachers and her wrestles with the apparently irreconcilable dichotomy of being a nun and a young woman who likes men and can fall in love. We are left, at the end, with the impression that Gesshin has happily resolved that dichotomy.

All this is shared openly with us, and we join in feeling the pain and the joy. Equally I found the book inspiring and stimulating me to move forward in my own journey (whatever that is).

For anyone with an interest in Buddhism, especially Japanese Sōtō Zen, this is a book well worth reading. And even if you just want to follow the quest of a young woman in search of answers to life and death, do read it. I really did find it hard to put down.

Overall Rating: ★★★★★

Written Rules

If you think that good, clear, written English is irrelevant, pedantic or elitist you really need to think again and read this from the Guardian

Don’t press send … The new rules for good writing in the 21st century


Regardless of style (which needs to vary with context) good, clear, factually correct writing which is correct in grammar and spelling, helps engage the reader. And after all, that is what you want, isn’t it!?
And yes, NHS and HMRC, I’m looking especially at you!

Book Review: Ethical Porn for Dicks

David J Ley
Ethical Porn for Dicks: A Man’s Guide to Responsible Viewing Pleasure

ThreeL Media, USA; 2016
Do you watch porn? If you’re male there’s a very high chance that you have at sometime in your life, even if you don’t now. If you’re female the chances are still good that you have done.
Do you believe that porn is bad for you? That it incites sexual abuse and violence? That all the performers are doing it because of exploitation, their working practices are unsafe and they have no control?
Do you feel shame because you, or your partner, watch porn?
If the answer to any of these questions is “yes”, then this book is for you. OK it is American and is aimed directly at men, but in my view it is relevant for everyone from mid-teens upwards, and whatever their gender and sexual orientation.
Our media are filled with cautionary, polarizing messages about the dangers of porn, even while sexually explicit images are exploited deliberately and persuasively in adverts and entertainment. This book offers anyone feeling shame and anxiety about their own, or their partner’s, behaviour a non-judgmental way to view and use pornography responsibly, while exploding many of the surrounding myths.
Ley is an expert on issues relating to sexuality, pornography and mental health. As a practising psychologist he is the head of a large behavioural health and substance abuse out-patient programme. Consequently he is able to bring years of first-hand experience, and academic credibility, to understanding what the problems of pornography are, and aren’t.
The book’s style is casual and accessible while remaining evidence-based – it isn’t littered with footnotes, but all the referenced texts are listed in the bibliography. Because it is broken down into about ten chapters, each consisting of several discrete sections, posed as questions, it can either be read cover-to-cover (as I did) or can sensibly be dipped into.
Just two quotes from the book …

Porn, for better or worse, is here to stay. In the US, it is protected under free speech, and it needs to be because if we lose the right of free sexual expression, we lose many other critical protections. Porn, as illustrated by … cave drawings … has been around as long as humanity. Attempts to get rid of porn are just more likely to drive it underground, where it is secret and hidden. And under such secrecy, people are more likely to get hurt or taken advantage of, and lose the ability to freely consent.

Rates of sexual offending go down as people in a society have more access to pornography. This is research that has been replicated in the United States and around the world. People don’t talk about this because they don’t want to acknowledge what it means. Porn is good for society. A society with more access to porn is a sexually safer society. Access to pornography may decrease rates of juvenile sex offending even more. If pornography were a moral-altering thing, turning weak-minded people into rapists and paedophiles, it would have a greater negative effect on teen boys. And it doesn’t. Just the opposite. Gay men watch more porn than straight men. But rates of rape and sexual violence in gay men are lower than in heterosexuals.

These are two of the key messages from the book. But there are two more which struck me:
First … We need to keep firmly in mind that porn is fantasy, in just the same way that Terry Pratchett and Disney are fantasy. It isn’t real life and we shouldn’t treat it as such. Just as real life isn’t filled with giants, battles and fairy princesses the way fantasy novels/films are, so real life sex isn’t (certainly shouldn’t be) violent, abusive and non-consensual. Porn may portray these traits as part of their fantasy fiction (and indeed many have them as mental fantasies) but neither is real life, properly adjusted, sex. We need to help people, especially the younger generations, understand this.
Secondly … If you worry about the exploitation aspects of porn then there are many producers who create ethical porn – the performers are well paid, their health is looked after, their working practices are safe and they have control over what is, and is not, permissible – then this book references several of these together with a long list of resources at the end.
Having said all that I did find the book rather too easy-reading; I wanted some more meat – but that’s me with my scientific background. Overall, if porn is a subject which interests you, or on which you feel you need more knowledge to help inform your children, then you could do much worse than read this book.
Overall Rating: ★★★★☆

Book Review: The Sex Myth

Brooke Magnanti
The Sex Myth: Why Everything We’re Told is Wrong
Weidenfeld & Nicolson; 2012
If, like me, you’re always doubtful of what “they” are telling us about sex (well actually about anything) then this book is an eye-opener. And who better to open our eyes than Brooke Magnanti, for if anyone knows then she should:

Brooke Magnanti studied Genetic Epidemiology and gained her PhD at the Department of Forensic Pathology, University of Sheffield. Her professional interests include population-based research, standards of evidence, and human biology and anthropology. In 2009 it was revealed that she is an ex-call girl and author of the bestselling Belle de Jour series of memoirs, which were adapted into the TV series, Secret Diary of a Call Girl.

She is also a novelist, blogger and activist who, in 2016, was called to give evidence about sex work conditions in the UK to the Home Affairs Committee investigating prostitution laws in Britain.
In describing the content I can’t do a lot better than the book’s cover blurb:

Is there any truth to the epidemic of sex addiction? Are our children really getting sexualised younger? Are men the only ones who like porn? Brooke Magnanti looks at all these questions and more – and proves that perhaps we’ve all been taking the answers for granted.
Brooke Magnanti is no stranger to controversy. As Belle de Jour she enthralled and outraged the nation … Now her real identity is out in the open, Brooke’s background as a scientist and a researcher comes to bear in this fascinating investigation into the truth behind the headlines, scandals and moral outrage that fill the media (and our minds) when it comes to sex.
… Brooke strips away the hype and looks at the science behind sex and the panic behind public policy. Unlike so many media column inches, Brooke uses verifiable academic research. This is fact, not fiction; science not supposition.

Don’t let the “science” label put you off. Yes, Brooke references all her sources but her style is light and eminently readable. She combines her skills in statistics, epidemiology and research with her experiences as a call-girl to blow the lid off what the Agenda Setters and politicians are telling us, thus exposing all the myths surrounding sex in society.
Brooke follows what the Agenda Setters and Evangelisers are saying and traces back where they get (or more usually fabricate) their data – and then by reference to peer-reviewed research shows where and how it is false. From sex addiction, through trafficking for sex, to the decriminalisation of prostitution, myths are well and truly busted.
If I had to find criticisms of the book they would be four, albeit relatively small: (1) It’s a shame the book is now 5 years old; it would be good to have an update. (2) Personally I would have liked more diagrammatic explanations of the data presented. (3) In each chapter a summary of the evidence, and how it is built into the arguments, would have helped my understanding of the (often necessarily) convoluted and detailed analysis. And (4) like so many books these days it could well be reduced in size by better design and typography and not printed on such cheap paper.
But that aside, the book is highly illuminating and well worth reading.
Overall Rating: ★★★★☆