'Dickens and Christmas' by Lucinda Hawksley

Merry Christmas!  The decs are up, the gifts are wrapped and I have a mug of cocoa, so it must be time for a read!  Normally, I'd be diving into the absolute perfection that is 'A Christmas Carol' around about now, but this year, for a change, I decided to uncover the story of the author's relationship with Christmas by reading 'Dickens and Christmas' by Lucinda Hawksley.

Money, Money, Money

Reading the back of 'Keep the Aspidistra Flying' by George Orwell sent a bit of a chill down my spine.  Like many people who enjoy writing, I've daydreamed about what it would be like to throw in the towel and try to make it as a full-time wordsmith of fiction.  Here was that same idle thought made 90 years ago and turned into a novel by one of our greatest 20th century writers.  And it didn't sound like it turned out well.  With trepidation, I open the book and began to read...

The Great Indoors

 'Bunker: Building for the End Times' by Dr. Bradley Garrett

Some books are lucky enough to be published at just the right moment.  'Bunker: Building for the End Times' by Bradley Garrett, released near the start of the Covid-19 global pandemic, is just such a book.

Apocalypse Now?

At the height of the Cold War, US citizens were told to prepare for nuclear attack, ensuring they could first survive then rebuild.  Though the threat faded, the general sense of dread remained, and many people continue to believe an extinction-level event is just around the corner.  Some expect disease, some climate disaster, others an attack from abroad, but all 'preppers' stockpile and plan in order to survive the inevitable collapse of society and state.  Somewhere to go and a way to get there are essential.  In 'Bunker', Dr. Garrett explores both the prepper subculture and the modern-day bunkers that preppers hope to survive in.  From the buried tubular descendents of Anderson Shelters, to converted 1960s government installations, repurposed military vehicles to luxury, inverted tower blocks, it seems everyone thinks they know how to survive the end of the world.

Sex, Guys and Audiotape

'Diary of a Drag Queen' by Crystal Rasmussen (Ebury Press, 2019)

Picture the scene.  It's a beautiful sunny day in spring 2020.  Outside, the birds are singing a delicate morning chorus while the flourishing plant life sways and nods languidly in the gentle breeze.  Inside, a nearly-but-not-quite middle-aged woman sits quietly, embroidering a picture of a cute puppy dog using the softest of threads.  It's a complex pattern requiring infinite patience.  All is relaxed and calm and excessively gentile.  So, what do you suppose the embroiderer might be listening to?  Surely nothing so filthy, fun and raucous as 'Diary of a Drag Queen' by Crystal Rasmussen!

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.

Gilead Revisited

'The Handmaid's Tale' by Margaret Atwood

With the release of companion piece 'The Testaments' just ten days away, I've done something I don't normally do - I've re-read a book!  So, unsure of whether it was as good as I remembered and with some trepidation, I returned to Gilead and 'The Handmaid's Tale' by Margaret Atwood.

Following a carefully planned coup that wipes out Congress and strips civil liberties, the United States of America has been taken over by a fundamentalist Christian group and renamed 'Gilead'.  Those not purged find themselves boxed into new, sanctioned roles that mean work and above all relationships are state controlled.  With birth rates low and people needed to fight ongoing wars, the rulers of Gilead assign senior personnel 'Handmaids', fertile women to be ritually raped in the hope that they will provide the Commanders and their Wives with children.  'Offred' is one of the first wave of Handmaids, haunted by memories of the life she had before, fearful for the future of her lost daughter, and stunned into compliance by the isolating existence she now endures as an object of desire and moral revulsion.  As the shock begins to fade, however, she starts to see that things are not quite as godly as the regime would like believed, and even those at the highest levels are showing signs of very human weakness...

Conflict Resolution

So, in my 2017 review, I said that I wanted to read some more of the books I'd been given in 2018.  I've made a start with 'The Reason You're Alive' by Matthew Quick, sent to me at the end of last year by Picador.

When Vietnam veteran David wakes from a serious brain operation with one name on his mind -

'The Reason You're Alive'
by Matthew Quick
(Picador, 2017)

'Clayton Fire Bear', a fellow soldier he wronged long ago - he realises that he must make amends before it's too late.  But first he has to recover, which means spending more time with the son he doesn't see eye-to-eye with over politics, relationships, food... well, pretty much anything really.  Fortunately, he'll also get to see more of his adored granddaughter Ella and David's friends are happy to help.  There are surprises all round as their worlds collide and old wounds as well as eyes are opened, but ultimately, David mustn't lose sight of the one final mission that must be completed despite his reservations...

Fools and their Money

It's funny how you can end up finding a great book.  For example, I found out about 'God Bless You, Mr Rosewater' thanks to a throwaway remark by Robin Ince at a gig a few weeks ago.  Boy am I glad he went off script!

'God Bless You, Mr Rosewater'
by Kurt Vonnegut
(Vintage Classics, 1992)

'God Bless You, Mr Rosewater' by Kurt Vonnegut is a satire about inheritance, class, philanthropy, greed and American society's obsession with the rich.  The Rosewater Foundation seems like the perfect tax dodge, a way to enable the Rosewater family to inherit and protect its incredible fortune and hand it, intact, to the next generation.  But there's a problem.  The current foundation president, Eliot Rosewater - alcoholic, obsessed with volunteer firemen and (worst of all) determined to help the poor - is showing signs of mental breakdown.  If declared insane, control of the Foundation's vast wealth goes to the next heir, a distant cousin eking out a living as an insurance salesman on the coast.  Led by the devious lawyer Mushari, the vultures begin to circle, and, Eliot's father, Senator Rosewater, is forced to step in to try to prevent catastrophe...

I absolutely loved this book and wanted to start reading it again almost as soon as I turned the last page.  I found the themes really interesting, but also enjoyed the vivid patchwork of characters Vonnegut created.  They tumbled forth from the narrative like coins from a piggy bank, some shiny, some dull, but all saying something about attitudes to money, class and entrepreneurship in 1960s America.

The writing style was snappy and short, which made it a great book to dip into, but I never felt short changed as it belied the depth and complexity of the themes explored.

Although Vonnegut is a name I'm aware of, I'd not read any of his works before 'God Bless You, Mr Rosewater'.  Now we've been introduced, I certainly can't wait to read more of his work.

If you're someone who likes thought-provoking satire, I think you'll find much to enjoy here.  It's a slightly unusual narrative style, more in common with a single-shot film that allows you to explore the human landscape, with characters coming and going as required, rather than a story that sticks like glue to single character's side, but it works perfectly.  Like I say, I can't wait to explore it's riches once more.

Now, what next...?

Princess Direst?

There are many battle lines drawn to divide the sexes, but the one that's worried me most in recent years is that in the toy shop.  I know I'm fairly old and quite absent minded, but was there really always such an obvious difference between toys aimed at girls and toys aimed at boys?  Just as I thought I might be seeing my own childhood through rose tinted specs, along came 'Cinderella Ate My Daughter' by American journalist, author and parent Peggy Orenstein, a book which asks the very same question.

'Cinderella Ate My Daughter' is Ms Orenstein's exploration of 'princess' culture, its origins and

'Cinderella Ate My Daughter'
by Peggy Orenstein
(Harper, 2012)

whether it's really as bad as it seems.  As a mother, she's worried by the impact of girly girl culture on her daughter's character and ambitions.  As a vocal feminist and writer, she finds her own world view and reputation are being challenged. Orenstein dives in at the deep end, going to junior beauty pageants, a Miley Cyrus concert and upmarket doll shops (complete with beauty parlour), as well as hanging out with social media obsessed preteens.  But can she get beyond the glitter and froth to the facts that matter?

I really enjoyed this book.  Admittedly, it was on a topic that interested me, but it was also written in an accessible style by someone who clearly found the apparently sudden emergence of extreme princess culture as baffling as I do.  Through the book, Orenstein muses on the topic in an open minded way, trying to draw conclusions that are both rooted in real evidence (rather than hard line reactionism) and pragmatic, recognising peer pressure and that a simple 'No' is not always the best answer.

There are probably a good proportion of parents who have had similar worries to Orenstein about whether princess culture is narrowing their daughters' futures, even condemning them to a life chasing unrealistic expectations about their looks and relationships.  This book is written from that perspective and, as such, I would recommend it to them as a good read.  It's debatable whether any firm conclusions are drawn, but at least it offers food for thought and makes you realise you're not the only one questioning the giant, pink marketing tsunami that's determined to sweep all girls into a narrow target group.

What I would really like to see next from Ms. Orenstein is a companion work about the boys.  For every pink and glittery aisle there's a blue and mechanical one which is arguably just as restrictive.  Why should shoving girls in a box be any worse than shoving boys in one?

If you're someone with female children or an interest in this topic, I recommend this book.  While it doesn't necessarily give you answers, it does give you information, and in the least will leave you feeling empowered enough to tell the princess to push off once in a while.

Now, what next...

Shop 'til you Drop

I'm afraid I've done it again. I borrowed a book from the library to see if it sounded interesting and ended up reading it all the way through instead of something from my list. I'm sorry.

On the plus side, it was a very interesting book.  I've just finished reading 'Consumed: How Shopping Fed the Class System', the first book by Telegraph journalist Harry Wallop.

Mr Wallop has noticed, like many, that the old definitions of class don't work in the UK any more. The decline of manufacturing and the growth of white collar industries means what we would think of as working class has rapidly shrunk, while the stereotypical layabout lords and ladies have morphed into farm shop managers and tourist attraction owners. Over the past 60 years, disposable income has increased and more and more people have started to consider themselves 'middle class'. Effectively all three labels have been rendered completely meaningless.

Wallop, however, has identified a number of new, more relevant classes.  Whereas the old system was based factors people often have little control over, such as where you went to school, who your family were and how you spoke , Wallop suggests that the biggest identifier of class today is what we buy and where we shop.

In the introduction to 'Consumed', he identifies several new classes; the Portland Privateers, the Wood Burning Stovers, the Hyphen-Leighs, the Sun Skittlers, Middleton Classes and the Asda Mums. Although his list feels incomplete, enough of what he said later in the book rang true to make me think he's actually onto something. And, no, I'm not going to admit which category I fall into, although his analysis was scarily accurate at times!

When someone writes a book on class, it's always a worry that it can become disdainful or judgemental about certain socio-cultural books. Although 'Consumed' did feel a bit so to start off with, possibly because the author comes straight out with his 'upper class' family history, it didn't really last long and by the end the book was at worst tongue in cheek and at best simply fascinating.

In reality, this is a book about marketing and segmentation.  It's a bit chicken and egg - are people slotting into particular consumer groups because of what they're sold or are they sold it because they're in a particular group?  I suppose we'll never know, but it was interesting to read about how shops decide where to open and what ranges to offer. Although I'd noticed that not every supermarket stocks the same lines, I had no idea that some places will never see certain shops because of the socio-cultural groups who live there. I suppose it makes good business sense, but it's still a little scary.

Is class based on shopping better than the old system? On the whole, I think it probably is a step in the right direction. So long as no one starts preventing people from buying items aimed at other 'classes'. But it would be nice to see Wallop's ideas developed further. For example, where does borrowing books from the library fit?

Overall, this is a very interesting, well written book. The author does a great job of balancing readability with raw data, but it does give the book the feel of an extended comment article.  Then again, Wallop is only mooting an idea and doesn't claim to be an anthropologist. I would be very interested to see these ideas picked up and analysed further by academia.  But, in the meantime, I think it's going to be a while before I stop thinking of people in terms of Portland Privateers, Wood Burning Stovers, Hyphen-Leighs, Sun Skittlers, Middleton Classes and Asda Mums!

I look forward to your next book, Mr Wallop. I might even buy that one!

Now, back to Georgette Heyer.