Don't Ignore Him

'Just Ignore Him' by Alan Davies 

When celebrity biographies get released, it's usually to great fanfares and fireworks as each flashy hardback vies for our attention in the pre-Christmas glut.  My latest read - 'Just Ignore Him' by Alan Davies - got my attention because it seemed to do the opposite of that.  Just look at the cover; a simple image of a young Davies in white t-shirt looking straight into the camera.  Somehow cautiously bold, it's a long way from the usual stage-managed images we've come to expect on such books.  The only flash of colour is the red of his football shorts, leaving the book dominated by a brown-black that sits in stark contrast to the bright yellows, blues and whites of other biographies that I've read.  So what's going on?

Caught in the Cultural Crossfire

'Kill the Black One First' AKA 'A Search for Belonging' by Michael Fuller (535, 2019)

I've discovered the library's audiobook app.  Talk about a kid in a sweet shop!  There's so much to choose from, but I stopped short when I saw 'Kill the Black One First' by Michael Fuller listed.  With a shocking title like that, I had to take a closer look.

The Best of Birds

Book recommendations are a bit of a mine field.  On the one hand, I love to hear about the great books other people have discovered and hear them talk enthusiastically about how stories have changed their lives. But I'm also very aware that reading is subjective and it's not possible to like absolutely everything, no matter how much you may want to.  So many people I know love Dickens or Austen, but I have to make polite excuses worthy of a Regency heroine whenever they're mentioned because I just don't get on with them at all.

One book that has come up many, many times over the years is 'To Kill a Mocking-Bird' by the late Harper Lee.  So many friends had recommended it, including local legend Len Copland, that I was really apprehensive about reading it.  I finally picked it up last month and boy I needn't have worried.

'To Kill a Mocking-Bird'
by Harper Lee
(Arrow Books, 1997)

'To Kill a Mocking-Bird' is a modern classic.  Set in the Deep South of the 1930s, it is a story of innocence, justice and prejudice told from the perspective of a young girl, Scout.  Scout, her older brother Jem and summer time friend Dill watch the grown up world with wide-eyed fascination, trying to make sense of the apparently irrational adults around them.  When Scout and Jem's lawyer father Atticus Finch volunteers to represent a black man accused of raping a white woman, they are inadvertently caught up in a series of events that will crystallise the contradictions of the adult world and bring unexpected dangers.

Having read it, I now completely understand why 'To Kill a Mocking-Bird' was such a staple of English Literature classes in UK schools.  Scout's voice and worldview are perfectly portrayed, meaning children can identify with it immediately, while adults soon slip back in time and begin remembering how it felt to be her age in a big, bewildering world.

'To Kill a Mocking-Bird' is a book which will keep me thinking for a very long time.  It is also on a very elite list of books which I definitely want to read again.  Ms Lee has written something succinct rather than short, crafting a plot that diligently leaves a breadcrumb trail for us to follow until the bitter end.  The more I think about this book, the more I want to know and the more I want to return to its pages and check what I missed first time round.

Ms Lee herself is one of the book's most interesting features.  'To Kill a Mocking-Bird' draws very obviously from her own experiences, including life in a small town in the southern United States and being the daughter of a lawyer.  Ms Lee passed away while I was planning this post and the question on many people's lips seemed to be 'When she could write like this, why didn't she write more?'.  I suspect a lot of people are hoping something will be found, in a vault, under the bed, in a box of trinkets.  Regardless, by writing just one book (and such a well-loved one at that), she's left readers with no where to go once they've finished it and it's draft ('Go Set a Watchman').  I for one will be looking out for a biography of this enigmatic writer.

Overall, this is a book that grows with the reader.  Those who read it as children can return to it as adults and read it anew.  It's engaging and thought provoking on a range of themes and topics.  It cannot and should not be reduced to the story of a court case.  There is so much more going on, much like there is so much more happening outside of Scout's field of understanding.

Thoroughly recommended.

You Couldn't Make It Up!

Sometimes, I find genres confusing.  When does something become 'Classic'?  Why isn't PG Wodehouse under 'Humour'? Where on Earth do you put Daphne Writes-Horror-SciFi-Romance-And-More Du Maurier?  And what the fudge is 'Women's Fiction'?  But never before have I questioned whether something should be in fact or fiction!

The cause of the consternation is 'Animal QC: My Preposterous Life' by Gary Bell, published by Monday Books  It says it's an autobiography, but this rip roaring tale of a life less ordinary can't possibly be true.  Can it?

Mr Bell is the most unlikely barrister you're ever going to meet.  Far from the silver-spooned toff of the stereotype, he was born to teenage parents and began life in a condemned Nottingham slum.  Although the family escaped the city for the mining town of Cotgrave, life was far from easy and money was often short.  Despite showing promise, unimaginative careers advisors and an old fashioned working class attitude to education meant that he left school without taking exams.  Everyone expected him to follow his father down the pit, but his fear of the dark meant he lasted just one day.  A decade of short lived employment, strange strokes of luck and homelessness later and the boy was back in town and ready to start again as a mature student.  Living proof that hard work, dogged determination and just enough cheek can get you through, 'Animal QC' is a funny, inspirational and ridiculously preposterous story.  

I absolutely loved this book, but it's so unusual, I really don't know where to start!  Never has the phrase 'you couldn't make it up' seemed more appropriate nor a single paragraph so far from enough to summarise a story. 

Top barristers need to be great (and convincing) storytellers and Mr Bell must be one of the best.  'Animal QC' is engaging, charming and even jaw dropping, a well written page turner that made me want to keep reading.  His 'warts and all' attitude (which means he covers his major embarrassments as well as his greatest successes) keep the narrative on the right side of smug and when he touches on controversial topics, the reader is reminded that it's based on his own, personal experiences.  

The tone changes as he begins to talk about his casework and the pace slows slightly, but 'Animal QC' remains intriguing for a whole new set of reasons.  While I think the book in general could be an inspiration to anyone who thinks that where they start is where they'll stay, the later chapters would be of particular interest to people interested in the criminal law and the legal process.

Overall, I can't recommend 'Animal QC' enough.  The paperback is due out at the beginning of March, so look out for it then.  Hopefully we'll find it in 'Biography'...

Murder on the Hackney Express

Despite my fervent list making, I can be quite disorganised sometimes.  To prove my point, this is a review of a book Waterstones sent me three years ago...  Sorry about that, won't make a habit of it.  Promise.

'Mr Briggs' Hat' by Kate
Colquhoun (Little, Brown, 2011)

'Mr Briggs' Hat' by Kate Colquhoun is a work of true crime recounting the story of Britain's first railway murder.  In July 1864, the death of elderly banker Thomas Briggs on his train journey home sends shockwaves through Victorian society.  Until now, the age of steam has been largely embraced, but with the arrival of an empty but blood-soaked carriage at Hackney station, new and horrific possibilities emerge to send accepted complacencies off the rails.  The sensationalist press is soon reporting all the gory details, lapped up by readers around the world.  While the respectable classes squirm at the thought of a vicious maniac on the loose, the papers speculate on one oddity of the case.  In the deserted carriage are found the victim's walking stick and leather bag, plus a crushed hat, which didn't belong to Mr Briggs.  Who is the owner of the mysterious headgear?  And, brute or bystander, can he help police with their enquiries?

Hats off to Ms Colquhoun for the indepth research she must've done to write this book.  The first two thirds are incredibly absorbing, helping the reader understand the context of this tragic story and how it helped and hindered the police at the time.  This case is an interesting point on the journey towards modern crime investigation, showing how processes and techniques have evolved over the past 150 years.

When we reach the courtroom, however, through no fault of the author, the narrative runs a little out of steam.  It's impossible to recount this part of the story without repeating what's gone before, which unfortunately makes the book temporarily falter.  Suspense is soon regained, though, and I soon found it was me slowing things down as I dreaded turning the next page in fear of the inevitable societal vengeance.

Overall, 'Mr Briggs' Hat' is an intriguing glimpse into the crass media, popular neuroses and complex justice system of the Victorian era.  Just when you think everything's been written that could be written about it, someone comes up with something like this.  Hopefully when I've shortened my list a bit, I'll be able to treat myself to something else by Ms Colquhoun and see what fascinating titbits she's unearthed more recently.