Showing posts with label book review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label book review. Show all posts

Thursday, 22 September 2011

rectangular objects review (no, not ipads)

Book post ahoy!

Now that I’ve started using the mobile library I’ve been stocking up on books.  I love the mobile library even though I seem to be the only one under sixty.  Actually, that’s not fair.  There’s a few of us without a blue rinse. 

The best things about using the mobile library are avoiding paying fines and making book requests for free – YAY!

So what have I been reading?

'No Off Switch' - hilarious, brilliant read
My friend recommended to me that I read Stuart Maconie when I mentioned to her that I’d read Andy Kershaw’s autobiography (which I’m also re-reading btw and still loving – it’s hilarious).  I was unsure but picked up one of Stuart's books when I noticed it on the mobile library shelf.  ‘Hope & Glory’ (which I kept reading as ‘Soap & Glory’) picks out an event for every decade of the last century with Stuart visiting each place he mentions.  I don’t know how many adjectives I can think of to describe how wonderful the book is but it truly is a delightful journey through Britain's history.

If I was being cheesy I'd say 'Hope & Glory' is a hopeful and glorious read!  

Fnar fnar, oh, I'm so amusing.  

I loved the mentions of the West Midlands – Stuart seems to be a big fan of the region – as he gives a potted history on Handsworth, eats Caribbean food in Perry Barr and even walks down Soho Road (the most famous road in Birmingham for Asian shopping).  It was like seeing myself reflected in a book.  Funny how attached we feel to the places we live, isn’t it?  

Stuart’s account of multiculturism isn’t all doom and gloom (like certain right-wingers would have you believe) but instead upbeat and positive about the contributions minority communities have brought to Britain.  Reading that made me want to stand up and say ‘YES! YOU’RE SO RIGHT! THANK YOU!’  For just the food alone, we minorities must be thanked profusely.  

'Hope & Glory' is wonderful.  'Love Poems' is poetry of the highest quality
The book is such a pleasant and informative read.  I’m definitely going to delve into the rest of Stuart’s output as I’ve been converted to an instant fan.  I’ve even started listening to Radcliffe and Maconie on 6 Music! 

I also read Carol Ann Duffy’s book of love poems which was good but I’ve read most of her work already so it wasn’t much of a revelation.  I liked the book cover though. 

If I had more readers, I'd set up a book club or something but as it is, I just like talking about what I like.  Any book recs are most welcome.  

Thursday, 28 July 2011

I finally read the damn book




Dear reader, it’s the long awaited Andy Kershaw book review. Can you even bear the excitement? So, after much anticipation, what did I think about it?

I FLOVED IT.

THE END.

I’m just joshing you… of course I have more to say than that (although it does neatly sum up my feelings in a nutshell). Basically, this post is going to be me fangirling like some psychotic teenage beiber fan over a broadcaster and journalist who is two decades older than me.

So why am I mad about the Boy Kershaw?

Well, for starters, the book is beautifully written. I’ve stayed up past 1am every night since I got this book because I’ve been so hooked on it. From birth Andy was intelligent and inquisitive about the world. He learned about space and flights to the moon and studied up on the JFK assassination – by the age of eight. He wrote pieces and took photos for motorbike racing magazines and was offered a job as a journalist before he had even left for university (and oh, how I envy him for that - R.I.P teenage dreams of being a journalist).

Andy’s passion and enthusiasm leaps off the page. Whether it’s music, motorbikes, travel or women – he embraces it fully and lives very much in the moment of joy (sometimes to his detriment). It’s obvious from the book that Andy is a lot of fun to be around. What he chalks up to as luck I would say is his fizzing energy and charisma. As someone who is so shy that my personality is in constant danger of folding in on itself, I love being around big ‘characters’ and Andy is a wonderful shining planet drawing all objects around him into his orbit.

It’s also clear that the guy was a hottie in his youth.

Hubba hubba, it's hipster Andy.

Yes, it’s a shallow thing to note but I wouldn't be human if I didn’t pay attention to these things (mullet notwithstanding).

He rightly calls out Bob Geldof for not including African artists on the Live Aid/Live8 bill. He describes the shambolic nature of presenting live aid which includes this highlight here of Andy interviewing Sting, Phil Collins and Howard Jones.

He’s incredibly funny. That’s a FACT.

I love a good celebrity anecdote and the book is chock full of them. Yaaaay! He’s met a huge amount of incredibly famous people and the encounters he describes are fascinating. Some celebrities also find Andy fascinating such as Little Richard who lustfully chases a young, handsome Andy around a radio studio!

I was cheering Andy on and rooting for him all the way.  I was a huge Radio 1 fan so I loved peeking behind the curtain and reading up on the 'behind the scenes' tales Andy recalls.  I didn't know about his friendship with John Peel and the working relationship they had so reading about it was really interesting.  Andy manages to pay homage to Peel while also stripping away the mythology that has built up around him.

Andy writes with great affection about John Walters, his mentor and producer, who kept things running Room 318 and who acted as saviour when malign influences conspired to close Andy or John down.  You get a keen sense of loss when John Walters passes away leaving Andy bereft of his mentor and friend. 

The book keeps building and building like waves crashing over bigger waves until the chapter on his breakdown where Andy's life takes a giant swerve towards imminent disaster. Thankfully, Andy pulls his life back together and I admire him deeply for that.  I found Andy's rides through his ups and downs to be truly inspirational.  His thoughts and memories have been sloshing around in my brain for a few days now.  I found myself becoming attached to all of Andy’s friends (whatever happened to Anna Jenkins? Poor love) who shared in his adventures and who he obviously holds in great affection.  I feel like I've lived his life in a vicarious way. 

Is there any chance Andy googles himself? Cos I wanna point at my blog and go:

LOOK AT MEH! I WUVS YOU


Actually, it’s probably better he doesn't see this – I’d scare the crap out of him.

In summation, his book is pure amazingness and you should all read it now.